The year 2001: I stood in the tiny telephone booth – I felt like a performing musician. I had one hand acting like a earplug to zone out the background noise. Only it wasn’t the orchestra I was blocking out, it was the street noise. I must also mention that my “audience” comprised of one bored tea delivery boy waiting for the telephone booth owner to noisily slurp the last few drops of the steaming tea. I was palpably excited about making an overseas call to my fiance to wish him a Happy Birthday. I may have been a “very successful software engineer” in my parents eyes, but I was still a dutiful daughter to parents who shouted into the phone. I suppose in their minds, a louder tone somehow speeded up the conversation.
The call connected, and my heart raced, just a trifle slower than the meter. I wished my fiance a Happy Birthday, and asked him eagerly whether he wore the shirt and tie I had picked out for his birthday. I visualized a suavely dressed engineer with a smart creased shirt, and tie in sunny California. He semi-truthfully lied that he did. (He said he didn’t wear the tie, but crumpled the shirt enough for it to pass off as less than formal. ) Years later, I found out that the shirt I had lovingly picked out for him was in a colour he did not particularly admire, and I also found out that the only time he will sport a tie is at our wedding! My loving-husband-gift-giving story had started off with a bang.
Year 2002: I did not yet have a car of my own. So, I hitch-hiked with my cousin and furtively bought a gift and kept it hidden for several weeks before springing it to him. I watched the gift gather dust on the leftmost corner of our closet well above the average human-bring’s reach. I hadn’t yet wisened up to “returning” something meant as a gift. But Time will take care of that.
Year 2003: This time, I decided to use my father’s most trite advice. (The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.) Just a gift wouldn’t do, a hand-made cake is what is needed I decided. So, I made a cake, and called our close friends and cut the cake. I was smart this time, and got him to return the gift I bought.
Year 2004: I managed to successfully glean any attention away from his birthday by being wholly pregnant and having my baby shower/seemandham etc the next day. He will be cutting a cake along with me for the baby shower wouldn’t he?
Year 2005: By now, nobody has any expectations to either impress each other with gifts or home-made cakes or store bought cakes for that matter.
Year 2006: Health conscious was the word. No sweets we decided, and we had the birthday cake replaced with a brownie. (My daughter really wanted to eat brownies)
Year 2007: Here is a post linking his ‘birthday celebration’. In short, we did everything but celebrate HIS birthday and landed up spending the afternoon with my daughter’s classroom having decided to celebrate her birthday in class instead. Ah…sweet practicality! AS for the gift, it another story!
Year 2008: We mutually agreed that I would take him along and buy him something he likes. Mr. Practicality came swinging by, and while I took my little one to a class, he went and bought something on his own around the time of his birthday. I suppose the Gajjar Halwa from last week-end doesn’t really count.
I don’t like the idea of this post. If I were to graph it out, I’d probably be snorting in his general direction somewhere down the line. Ah well…. Hubby, you will always know the sounds emanate with love!
Happy Birthday Dear Husband!