Through closed eyes I could feel a dull throbbing pain, consistent and annoying. I grudgingly opened my eyes and when the last snatches of sleep cleared, so did the pain. In its place a nagging doubt crept in, a feeling that I was forgetting something.
I threw off the covers and sat up in bed thinking about the long day ahead and glanced around my bachelor pad and was immediately taken aback. Stacks of neatly folded clothes, a clean table and spotless floors greeted me; even the towel was husng out to dry. Everything seemed totally alien, it looked nothing like my house except for the fact that… it was! I sat there scratching my head trying to think how this could happen. How drunk was I yesterday? Could I have cleaned the house after coming back? I tried to remember but only the dull pain lingered in my memory.
On my way to office, I tried to find a more reasonable explanation. Mom, Tabatha and Christie, all had the keys to my apartment, could it be that one of them (or all) came by and cleaned the house while I slept? The idea seemed a bit far fetched. Why would they do that out of the blue? Why wouldn’t they wake me? Still the idea seemed more realistic than mine cleaning the house in the condition I was in last night. Well just the idea of mine cleaning is unreal. I tried not to think anymore. The pain kept coming back and also that thought…what was I forgetting?
Reached office and my cubicle without incident, I must look terrible today, nobody dared to speak to me. Not that I was in a mood to socialize either.
Time dragged on, it was one of those days which seemed longer than others. No special work came my way; in fact, no one came to talk either. No gossip, no complaints, no sleazy jokes. By lunch I was beginning to feel a bit strange. What was with people today? As I sat their in the canteen alone sipping coffee from a chipped cup, my eyes wandered on to the large calendar hanging on the walls. 30th September... my birthday. How did i forget my own birthday? But i didn't forget, had a faint memory the party; the booze. But what’s with the silence?
As I started moving back to the cabin, I heard a snatch of conversation. The words John…meet…8’oclock…drifted to my ears. And then I heard someone asking for the address of my parents’ house in hushed tones. Suddenly it all became clear; a surprise birthday party. Despite the sour mood I was in all day, I suddenly started feeling all light and fluffy. Even at this age, the idea of a surprise birthday party sets a flutter to your stomach. I felt a very pure kind of joy, after a long time it seemed.
By 6.30 I grew restless. I couldn’t sit in that drab cubicle anymore with no one talking to me and nothing to do. Never had I got less work on account of my birthday. Not that I was complaining but this whole hush-hush surrounding my surprise was making me feel all left out. I was also wondering why mom hadn’t called me yet to come over. Maybe they were still busy preparing. Then an idea popped in my all too vacant brain. As revenge to my daylong torment I’ll burst in on their preparation, and catch them red handed.
I left shortly afterwards. No one stopped or questioned me, which I sort of expected. Still the fact the ‘big-man’ Andrews let me go so easily was hard to digest. This must be my lucky day. Must be my lucky birthday.
As I headed towards my old neighborhood where I grew up, I felt oddly nostalgic. I passed the playground where I had spent hours past my curfew, playing relentlessly, then that alley where I first scraped my knee on my very first bike. I felt a painful lump in my throat which both surprised me and delighted me. That pure joy was growing, spreading within me, filling me, surrounding me.
I saw a lot of cars parked in front of our house, which meant a lot of guests. I wondered what drove mom to go to such great lengths for my birthday. But then she always did complain that I don’t spend enough time with her. My heart warmed up for her.
I entered, and instantly felt a shiver, don’t know why. I looked around the room and saw everyone in dark suits and dark formals. Formal party? For a birthday? I looked down at my lilac shirt and beige chinos and felt totally out of place…and…wait a second…lilac shirt?? But that is what I wore yesterday, dint I change in the morning? I tried to remember but couldn’t. The pain was back only it was not so dull any more. I needed an aspirin, I needed to find mom.
I rushed from room to room ignoring everyone, suddenly frantic to find mom. Then I saw her, sitting alone, next to an open coffin. I shuddered. Oh no…Dad?? What happened yesterday? Did I…is that the reason no one was talking to me?! I ran to her and was about to shout but stopped. My eyes fell on the face in the open coffin…and saw myself in a dark blue suit. I wasn’t out of place after all. A wave of nausea swept over me, and it all came back in a blurry haze yet painfully vivid. The world started spinning…the somber faces…the playing ground…the friendly alley…and mom’s grey lined face all started spinning. I remembered…the drinks…the drive…the blinding light and then…the dull pain.
This must be my lucky day…my lucky birthday.
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