I thought I’d decorate the room with 28 balloons. But now I’m out of breath after blowing up just ten. Huffing and puffing, I gulp down one full bottle of water and get on with number 11.
Doorbell rings. Cake has arrived. I run to the door. It’s a small mango-flavored cake. I set the cake on the table. Just ten minutes left to midnight. Where the hell are the candles now? I run around the house. And so do the balloons. They fly here and there, some bouncing on my bed, some going under it and some stalking me. **Sigh**
I can’t believe my eyes. The candles were lying on my bed the whole time. I mutter curses while setting them on the cake. But there are only 21 candles! I ordered 28. Definitely there was some mix-up at the store. Crap!
Oh, and what about the balloons? I have only 11. And just five minutes left. I manage to blow up three more within the next 2 minutes. And I can tell, right now, they have more air than I have in my lungs.
My dress is half drenched in sweat. Yet I can’t turn on the fan. I light the candles. The clock strikes 12. I look around the room. Apparently, I suck at this.
Never mind. Let’s get the party started. Suddenly a crazy wind pours in. Five candles get blown out. Two balloons fly up, land onto the cake and end up bursting, spoiling the last two letters of the name. Wow, suddenly the windless day decides to go barmy too!
I burst out laughing. ‘I always knew this was a crazy idea. Anyway, happy 28th birthday to me!’ I bend down and blow out rest of the candles hurriedly lest the universe do so.
Written by Chirasree Bose