The 21st of November always brings with it the critical fact that I have completed one more year of life; the underlying feeling that the pirannaal has marked another milestone in my life; a short pause before the journey unwinds itself again. But as each Birthday passes, the candles and the cakes move apart further.........There are no more new dresses, no more gifts, no more sadyas, no more distribution of sweets and no more gala celebrations, no more love-filled strokes on my cheeks or ruffles on my hair by ma, no more early morning shower..........Perhaps each birthday is a further realization that life has got to move on...............
This birthday saw my sister presenting me a wrist watch-from her salary, which reminds of the fact that she has already taken the plunge into the swift currents of employment and livelihood issues. Now it comes down to either a phone call, or an sms, or an email, or to the maximum extent, a detailed birthday card......Life away from home is really sinking in.........The coziness and comforts of Home have been replaced by the daily slog in the hard life................No wonder they say that life is not a bed of roses..........Birthdays just drift in the wind, where the only companion is solitude..........where your heart and mind is at peace.............May be the only impressions left are nostalgia..........the bygone days of Childhood.............who was that poet who wanted to go back to those days of innocence, and thought of climbing the coniferous trees to reach the heaven?...........................
This birthday saw my sister presenting me a wrist watch-from her salary, which reminds of the fact that she has already taken the plunge into the swift currents of employment and livelihood issues. Now it comes down to either a phone call, or an sms, or an email, or to the maximum extent, a detailed birthday card......Life away from home is really sinking in.........The coziness and comforts of Home have been replaced by the daily slog in the hard life................No wonder they say that life is not a bed of roses..........Birthdays just drift in the wind, where the only companion is solitude..........where your heart and mind is at peace.............May be the only impressions left are nostalgia..........the bygone days of Childhood.............who was that poet who wanted to go back to those days of innocence, and thought of climbing the coniferous trees to reach the heaven?...........................
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