Summers has always been warm, falling between spring and autumn but the fact that it's not always the warmth your heart craves for. The summers bring warmer and the heat translates to drier temperatures, indeed tough times. These summers, being summers, were no different to my family, scorching, spiking hot bringing nothing but struggle and sufferings . My grandmother used to say that it was a time when they had everything but nothing to be happy about. Emergence of me into the family was a life event in itself and according to her, it brought forward a hope, a hope that they could be happy. Summers seemed a bliss to them as if the newly radiant sun stepped forth to wrap them in warm and brilliant rays. Whatever a doting grandfather, grandmother, fathe, mother, uncle, aunts look like, I know them all . Seventh of May is no less than a festival to them and such a disappointment I am to say that this date holds no value for me and it never did. Maybe I've heard a lot about this day being a hell of a ride for them that I started hating the date. It was my birthday, again, after eight years of my grandmother's demise and it was like any other day, to be honest. My mother was enchanting of joy when she came to me with her phone and she literally dragged me out of bed as if the heaven's decided to do Hip Hop and I had to be a DJ for them . Whatever! I was acting to be asleep because she might have freaked out if she'd have known that I couldn't sleep the whole night, again. It was my cousin on the call and he wished me a happy birthday in the most annoying way possible saying "janmdin ki hardik shubhkamnaye" and what I replied was just a "hnn" in a sleepy and ofcourse, annoyed tone. He asked me to call him back, which I never did. Friends and family wishing a prosperous life to me over text messages was the only thing I wanted to avoid but you can't really escape an apocalypse and, relatives , no matter how hard you try to. So I decided to apetitise my keyboard with eight beautiful letters of all the time - THANK YOU.I replied to some of the texts, ignored some and enjoyed some ofcourse. The day came to it's end and that was the time when my brother somehow managed to arrange a cake, baked in a bakery that too in the lockdown, isn't it amazing ?! We gathered for this so called cake cutting ritual or ceremony we shamelessly adopted from the western folks. I'd be lying if I say that I wasn't happy .Not only with the cake but with all those people gathered there for the sake of this inanimate creature i.e. ME . The atmosphere felt so lively as my brother got started with his boasting about his abilities of arranging a party . That too, in lockdown. Him, being a dumb fellow, garnished the cake with candles as they were some frosty icing , making it a mess but who am I to say anything. Candles all over the cake! I looked at him with a "seriously?!" expression but he sucks at catching sign language. I wonder what kind of dumb he is hahaha. The candles ignited a sense of peace in that ill lited room since the younger cousin of me thought it would be perfect as much as the photography's concerned . "Blow the candles and cut the cake !", My youngest cousin exclaimed. Cakes and candels do fantasize kids lest bursting the balloons.
