My Birthday

It was my birthday yesterday and many wished me on this day. But there was something about yesterday, which left me slightly disturbed. Not the ones who did not wish me, because they don’t operate Facebook on a Sunday and thus were not reminded! But something unsettled me.

There was a time when I wanted my birthday every six months, but now I want them only once and that too every three years! I guess that’s what growing-up (some detractors might call it ‘ageing’ but I stick to my selection of words!) is all about. Well nobody listened to me then, so I guess no one is listening to me now and it comes with such religious regularity, that I feel like declaring myself calendar-agnostic, if there was one!

Every time someone wished me on my birthday this year, s/he asked me – so how old are you? How old? What the heck do you mean by OLD? I feel fresh like a leaf after the first monsoon shower! If I ignore those minor pains in the numerous joints that god decided to give man, I feel like a teenager, but with the maturity of a philosopher! If your biased vision seeks out the solitary wrinkle on this bright face of mine, then let me remind you that “wrinklier the raisin, sweeter the fruit.” (Whoever said that may his generations be wrinkles-free!)

What is it about age on birthdays, if it is not just another silver lining in the already much white cloud? If birthdays are about ageing, then why do we celebrate them? Birthdays are not losing years, but gaining on maturity (wonder why younger guys don’t get this!).

Finally, I can’t help but quote one of the best known authorities on man’s age, Ms. Marilyn Monroe –“If a man isn’t a certain age, he just isn’t interesting.”  So well said and she ought to know!! All the men ‘associated’ with her were definitely of a ‘certain’ age and more than ‘interesting’ who were more interested in her though!

All those who felt a trifle sad to know my age (giving me those ‘oh-no-don’t-tell-me’ looks), don’t worry, I am here to stay! If you are jealous of my experience, maturity and sensibilities (that you so simply call – ‘age’), then I pity you for your poor vocabulary! To quote from one my favourite poems “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost –

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

So all you guys, get ready for having to wish me again and again, till you have to raise those wrinkles off your eye-lids for me to see those eyes!!!

 

But thanks for wishing me though, it would have been worse if you had forgotten!!!

Pics Courtesy -

worldofweasels.blogspot.com

someecards.com