Happy Birthday

It was her birthday today. She turned 37. boy that’s a lot of numbers. She’s not married, not because she didn’t want to, but somehow it never happened. She has posted a note everywhere, on every portal that defies every theory Shakespeare has ever written, and claims that love is waiting in one of their numerous web pages. That finding love is as easy as “signing in” to their website by paying a “nominal” fee. She has visited every pandit, they all claimed, “its late in your kundli but it sure is next year”. Years passed by, every year promising for next year. And since she’s not married noone does even so much of a pretence to take her out for a dinner or get a cake. I guess that’s the reason why most people want to get married. If not love then at least a pretence of it. Somehow the happy her never took notice of it, except some of those exceptionally depressing days when it bothered her.
So this time she decided to throw a mega party, everybody was invited. She called me to discuss the menu, the venue, the music, the DJ, the deserts, she told me every single detail and she has planned it to the last T. that’s how she is, a bit fussy about everything. As if trying to make a point to life, with every battle and every passing year. she had invited everybody she knew, her family, cousins, their families, friends with families, most of whom have husbands at tow and of course their kids.
I met her the next day, “the party was great” she exuberated, “you really missed it”. “Happy Birthday” I said.