birthday party

Every summer holidays during school time was spent in davangere in my uncle’s house. My uncle would come down to Mysore and take me back with him .I would cry in the railway station while saying bye to my mom. I wanted to be brave so that my mom would be impressed but after 10 mins of forced bravery I would weep…I was so afraid not to be around my mom. My uncle would chide me for crying over silly things. I would then sit and look out of the window and imagine sad things and cry till my uncle lost his cool and made me go to sleep. My summer holidays were thus spent eating the delicious food my aunt would make, playing with other children in the streets, Telling stories to amuse my cousins or reading Enid Blyton books.

There was a house right in front of my uncle’s house. It was a family of four-husband, wife and two kids. The eldest kid was called Chandana-a very skinny girl who wore frocks which were two sizes too big for her with Chinese cut (it was a very popular cut that time...which made every kid look dumb) and her brother I have no recollection of him whatsoever. Their mom was a very fair woman who would roam around everywhere in a faded nightie. She was big built but had amazingly small feet. She herself found it so amusing that she would point it out. She would say “My feet are so small, I wear Chandana’s socks! Hahahaha!” Then she would lift her nightie and shows us her feet.

It’s when I remember such things about people that I wonder whether there is anyone who can be considered “normal”!

Anyways, they had a birthday party in their house (for the lil boy). All the kids of that street were invited and so were we. Though most people find it very difficult to believe it, I was a very shy kid...Everything made me uncomfortable. Moreover I was a little elder than most of the kids around which added to my discomfort. My aunt with her tact convinced me that it would be fun. So in the evening, we all went to her house. In front of their house there were a lot of chappals lying around haphazardly. The small living room was jam-packed with kids wearing funny hats. We too were given hats to wear.

We were made to sit in a line and some kids were admonished not to try to pull out their neighbor’s caps! We were given a piece of cake and some chips in a paper plate and Rasna to drink.

The cake would taste salty because of the chips and the chips would taste sweet because of the creamy cake. But we were kids enough to be excited at the thought of getting to eat cake!

Somebody’s socks smelled and instead of finding it disgusting...it only made us laugh. We would brag about who got the best part or try to coax our neighbor to give us a piece from his share as well!

I do not know why I remember this so vividly, but I do. May be because it reminds me of the days when we were unsophisticated enough to get excited about salty cake and smelly shoes only made us laugh.

(PS: For all my grown up air…I still get excited about eating cake)