Bouquets, birthday cakes and the bahu

In our house, the husband and I have reached that stage when we see our respective birthdays as a non-event. They’re just routine days, like any other day. 

Every year, when the husband’s birthday dawns, I wish him the mandatory ‘happy birthday’, before I turn over and go back to snooze mode. And when it’s mine, I say ‘thank you’ even before he has opened his mouth to wish me. Once the wishes are out of the way, it’s business as usual at the Acharya household. We go about the rest of the day, doing what we did the previous day and the one before that. The only minor difference – we make an effort to catch dinner at some nearby restaurant, which typically ends with the two of us squabbling over what to order! 

And as for our twin sons, well … if both get a few minutes off, from their busy work schedules, to call up and wish before the day ends, then that itself is a grand celebration for us! 

However, no complaints. We were quite content with the existing birthday status quo, until recently … when bahurani entered the scene. That kind of changed the scenario considerably.  

So, the husband had his birthday a couple of months back and whaddya know … thanks to the bahu, this time, we actually felt like it was a day out of the ordinary. It started out ordinarily enough, mind you, like all previous birthdays. The excitement kind of began later in the day, post lunch … with a flurry of calls from delivery boys. The husband had to skip his customary siesta and spend the afternoon in the verandah outside, giving them directions to our house. After some rather long and loud conversations, the entire lane was aware that something was afoot at the Acharya residence! And their doubts were put to rest, when by early evening the gifts started to arrive – first, a large-ish bouquet of red roses, followed later by a cute cake. The husband looked at me enquiringly and I shook my head – not guilty! Not long after, we got a message from the bahu asking if the deliveries had happened! Ah, the whodunit was solved! 

“When will you’ll cut the cake?” she asked.

“Now.” I replied.

“Noooo, please! We want to join.” She said.

“You’re coming? Here?” I asked puzzled. Dubai is not too far, I know, yet …

“On a video call.” She clarified.

Ah, got it! 

It was decided that the formal cake-cutting ceremony would be held around 6.30 in the evening, when everyone got off work, and could join the celebrations. So, till then, birthday boy and I ambled aimlessly around the house, like two people who have the cake but cannot eat it!

At 6.30 on the dot, we were all set for the call, with the husband brandishing a kitchen knife. To cut the cake, of course. After a few minutes of crackled sounds, disjointed voices and several arms, legs and faces bobbing around the screen, we could see one twin had logged in; the second soon appeared, followed by a cryptic message from the bahu that she was still on a work call and could we wait a bit. 

Of course, we could. We were a retired couple with nothing better to do anyway! And the boys? Well, they instantly disappeared, obviously happy that they had gotten a few extra minutes to carry on working. Meanwhile we two sat and looked at the cake and the cake looked back at us, as if to say, please cut me already, and put me out of my misery. It had begun to melt, and the thing now looked dangerously like the leaning cake of Kunjibettu. The relentless Udupi heat, you see. We hoped we could cut it before it toppled over completely! 

Finally, the auspicious moment arrived and we went back on call, with everyone on the screen, this time our sambandhis joining in too. 

“Go for it,” urged the audience and birthday boy plunged the knife into the cake to the accompaniment of the birthday song emanating from all the windows on the screen.  That done, everyone logged off. The party was over! But for us, a grand birthday indeed, going by our past record. 

To end the celebrations, instead of the customary dinner, we stuffed ourselves with cake and went to bed. Marie Antoinette would have approved. 

Meanwhile … it’s my birthday, in a few weeks!

Just saying! No pressure! 

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