Kulpa

23rd September. It's my mother's birthday.

I could imagine her all day. Recieving phone calls, planning a dinner party, just her, my father, my sister, and her husband. Probably another five star. There might have even been a chit selection - everyone writes a the name of a restaurant down on a piece of chit - a choice of three restaurants - we go whatever turns out the majority.

Dad must have been wondering what the budget would be like, he's a Sindhi, it always pinches him, but he still would have said, "Money's not an issue. Lets go to the best."

Mom would have probably agreed to anything Sneh (sis) decided. Dad's not too much into knowing about restauarants. Had I been there, there would have been a major arguement as to where we should go. I would be upset more because, they'd always go with Sneh's choice. I have no idea why. She just makes more sense to them.

Today was no different, I am sure. Only, there was no arguement as to where we should go. Sneh would have decided, Mom and Dad would have agreed.

Plan fixed.

Until I, sitting a sea away from them, like always, ruined their evening. I made them wait. I made mom cook vegetarian food especially coz someone special, who's vegetarian, was coming over to visit them.

They happily cancelled their dinner plans.

They must have waited and waited. Mom would have probably warmed the food twice. Had lesser to drink than she would have, so would have dad, coz he'd never start until the guest arrives. I know him.

They waited and waited.

What came was a phone call. Something had happened, something unavoidable, something unexpected. She wouldn't be able to make it. Not her fault.

It's my fault.

My mom would have finished off her vodka lime. She would have missed me terribly. I may be quite a chaos, but I'd never let her birthday party go thup, no matter what.

Dad would have quickly made a double for himself, and make up for what he'd have with the guest before mom shouted from the kitchen, "Dinner's ready."

Sneh would be quiet... quiet at the quietness, probably cursing me.

They would have eaten, quietly.

And slept.

I'm sorry Mama. I am so sorry.

But I promise you, next time, I'll be there. Only me. No one new.

Just us.

Happy Birthday Mama.

I miss you.

September 23rd will come again. And it will come fast. I will speed up time.

Please don't be sad. Please.