Another Birthday Of Mine
Wednesday, 29th November 2023
The Better One Kept Coming Year After Another
"Special moments are always special, Tanish."
All I was waiting for was the afternoon when my six guests would make the day even more memorable.
4:00 AM
The alarm buzzed, I quickly switched it off and reached for my phone. It was only Kayz (Kavya) who had wished me around midnight. Meanwhile, Sanjana texted a 'goodie' in reply to the text where I told her Kavya was going to be one of my guests too.
After brushing my teeth, I installed Instagram. Five new messages awaited me. Shaurya and Vansh had sent their birthday wishes. Sean had tagged me in a story, where I saw myself dancing with abandon to the famous Bhool Bhulaiya song, "Ami Je Tomar."
I thanked the three of them, letting Sean know I'd mention him back later. It was no surprise to see Vansh awake; almost immediately, I received a notification that he had liked my reply.
"Dedication level 400! You're literally awake at this hour," I appreciated.
Vansh:Haan, only to sleep again.
Me: And there you broke my heart (with a broken heart emoji
and two laughing ones)
I quickly texted him back, my face reflecting my sudden change of reactions.
Vansh: I had woken up to drink water, and then I
remembered that I didn't wish you.
Me: Hahaha, thank you! (joining hands emoji)
Vansh: Dedication toh tera hai. Bhai, abhi se padhai start kar diya
My mind knew him well…
Me: "Oh, Vansh, you've always been good at buttering me
up."
I kept that to myself and informed him about the five chapters I had revised in math. From there, our conversation shifted to various topics: his sister's engagement, his success as the topper in the physics test of the Apex Batch, and how Piyush always seemed to get lucky on every test.
Vansh was one of my three very special friends among the boys at the AOS Academy. In fact, he was the one with whom I spoke in a formal tone. Being the smartest of the three made him the right person for me to discuss studies with.
Mom woke up at ten minutes to five, which was unusual; her regular wake-up time was a quarter past five. Hugging me, she wished me a happy birthday and told me to study hard, something Indian mothers loved to say to their children. I touched her feet and sat back in my chair, suggesting she sit on the sofa. I informed her about Lizz's call from last night and asked if I could arrange for another person to join.
"Arre! Usme kya hai?" she readily agreed, and I texted Lizz about it.
At six minutes past five, Vansh wished me for the last time before going off to study. He also apologized for not being able to attend my party and asked for photos. I opened the crash course for Oscillations, and then Dad was the next one to wish me.
Everything was fine until 7:30 AM, but then Vihaan's van arrived twenty minutes late.
The next message to me was from Sushant.
"Happy birthday, Tanish! Bhaii" (with two emojis).
I quickly asked if I could call him; I really wanted to tell him about Lizz's call last night. He had been mentioning that Lizz wasn't responding to any of her texts. Instead of a voice call, he suggested I send voice messages, but I felt too shy for that kind of conversation.
After that, I headed out for a haircut, only to find that no shops had opened yet. Coming back home, I was packing my laptop when Dad wished me once again before leaving for the office.
"I hope I won't be late. Please, God, save me from being late. How embarrassing would it be to arrive after my guests?" I kept running those calculations in my mind. But that's what overthinkers do—thinking miles ahead of others. Half past one felt so far away, yet we Indians have a knack for not making it anywhere on time.
I returned home at eight and settled down with my phone, waiting for more birthday wishes to arrive. Slowly, they trickled in, one by one. Arjun was the next to message me.
"Good Morning, Tanish Bhai
Happy Birthday" (a bday capped Emoji)"
At nine, Lizz's reply came through: "ok,"
I was startled by her text and muttered to myself, "She broke my heart twice earlier, but this time I'm going to get her back. Come on, dude! Wish me! It's my birthday today!"
I took a bath and stepped out to visit the Shiv temple near our house. On the way, another message from Lizz arrived, this time on Instagram:
"Wishing you a very happy birthday, Tanish!"
It was accompanied by a heart and a celebration emoji.
"Thanks a lot, Lizz Mausi ji! Aap apna aashirwad banaye rakhein,"
I replied, completely forgetting what I had just said about her five minutes earlier.
Out of the six of them, Sanjana, Naira, and Ramesh were yet to wish me. Sanjana's wish definitely wasn't going to come before eleven because she mostly woke up late. Naira, whose wish I was most eager to receive, didn't send a text, as my sixth sense had warned me. It seemed obvious to me that Naira wouldn't wish me via text. Ramesh, not wishing me, was surprising, but I brushed it off, assuming he hadn't woken up yet.
I reached the temple and followed all the rituals my mom instructed me to do. On my way back, I noticed that my regular barber shop was open. If Dad hadn't suggested it, Mom would have never allowed me to get a haircut.
I asked the barber for my usual style—short on top and neat on the sides. Even while sitting there, I kept a close watch on the clock and urged the barber twice to finish quickly.
I quickly walked back home, munching on onion kachoris while playfully taunting Mom to finish her household chores quicker. I was so excited and wanted everything to be perfect for the party that even before leaving for Little World, I checked my hair twice and asked Mom five times if it looked good.
"Forget about your hair and cover your face!" She kept insisting throughout our auto ride, urging me to stop worrying about my hair since she thought it looked fine. The heat was intense, and I could feel the dust and warmth hitting my face.
"I hope none of your friends are bringing a cake for you," she questioned as we turned onto Central Park Road. I replied that I had no idea, secretly hoping nobody would, since I was planning to buy one myself.
We entered the mall, and I continued glancing at my watch, determined to get to The Bombay Diners by half-past one.
Finding a full shirt in Little World didn't seem difficult with Mom by my side. She took me to max, where I wandered around, replying to birthday wishes on Instagram from Sanjana D, Ananya, Ayaan, and many more.
"If you also take a look at it, we might be able to wrap this up quickly," Mom teased, encouraging me to try on a few shirts. She insisted I buy a white t-shirt as well, so we moved from store to store.
After exiting Trends and reaching the second floor, I noticed four new messages on WhatsApp.
One of them was from one of my guests who were yet to wish.
12:15
Sanjana 3: Happy Birthday Tanish!!!(cake, the usual pink
jumping heart emoji, and a star emoji)
Though it was expected, I felt a rush of joy to see that The Great Sanjana J had finally woken up. The fear that she and Ramesh might miss the entire party because they were still asleep never crossed my mind. And even if it had, Sanjana was sweet enough to banish that worry with her wish.
Just as I was about to reply, Mom pulled me by the shoulder, urging me to try on another shirt. This was the third one I was testing—a blue woollen shirt with white buttons.
"Yes, yes… you can finalize it. This is the one!"
I always struggled to make decisions, which was likely why I never went shopping alone. After trying it on, the shirt seemed decent to me, so I handed it to Mom and reached for my phone to thank Sanjana. But I had to enter the trial room again for a plain white t-shirt, preventing me from replying.
I was somewhat relieved that none of the plain white t-shirts were my size. As we descended in the elevator, I checked my watch and saw it was already half past twelve.
We walked to Monginis at Hiranandani, only to find the cake shop closed. While waiting for it to open, I finally had time to reply to Sanjana J and the other birthday wishes I had received.
12:32
Me: Thank you very much, J!
Aap apna aashirwad banaye rakhe maami ji
It took me almost a couple of minutes to think of the right reply, accompanied by two emojis.
The November heat had completely ruined my hairstyle. My face was dripping with sweat, and I kept wiping it with my handkerchief when I suddenly remembered the cake shop below our academy near Shilp Chowk. We took an auto to the cake shop, where I picked up a black forest-butterscotch mixed cake.
As we exited the shop, I insisted that Mom come with me to meet everyone, but she refused and took a bus home. I, on the other hand, decided to walk to Bombay Diners from the cake shop while chatting with Lizz.
If my memory serves me right, Lizz and Arjun were going to see each other for the first time since their breakup—and Lizz was a mix of nervous and excited about it. Arjun, on the other hand, had asked me on Sunday who was coming. The moment I mentioned Lizz, he typed her name out
"Lizz." From that one word, I got the feeling he might back out because of her, so I quickly asked him not to refuse.
Thankfully, he didn't.
Honestly, their history never really concerned me. Even Lizz's constant mentions of Arjun since that day didn't bother me at first. But the way she kept bringing it up—wondering aloud how their meeting would go, how they'd look at each other, whether Arjun would sit beside her—started to get repetitive.
One person I could still manage hearing about. But when Sushant's possible arrival got added into the mix, her excitement only seemed to grow. Clearly, there was some past between them, too—whether romantic or otherwise, I couldn't tell.
I don't know what came over me at that moment, but I ended up telling Lizz straight: whatever happened between her and Arjun, it was not going to be my responsibility. And yes, I was a little annoyed when I said it.
As I entered the restaurant, I informed them about my booking and got two tables locked. I kept my bag on the sofa and quickly washed my face, came out, and combed my hair, scrutinizing my reflection in the mirror as I judged whether I looked presentable.
"Take some selfies,
spend some time alone,
vibe alone,"
Lizz advised as I glanced at the table, anticipating the arrival of my guests.
Just then, I received a reply from Sanjana, "ji jaroor."
I was never confident about taking selfies and often underestimated myself to look good in pictures. Minutes passed, and my watch showed half past one when the restaurant owner approached me, informing me that the table had been reserved until two, so it wouldn't be a problem if everyone arrived before then.
I called Ramesh and Arjun; both assured me they were about to leave. Kavya didn't pick up at first, but she eventually called back to say she was in the library with Naira and wouldn't be able to leave for another ten minutes. Lizz had already left the chat, saying she needed to get ready, and had informed me in advance that she'd be late, which, to be honest, was expected.
I decided to text Naira, asking her to call Sanjana and find out when she would arrive since Sanjana hadn't seen my text.
By quarter to two, my overthinking mind had taken over. What if they don't arrive in fifteen minutes? What if they take the table from me? What will I do then? It would be so embarrassing in front of my friends... ugh!
Every five seconds, I glanced at my watch and then at the door, repeating the cycle until I finally saw Kavya grasp the handle and open the door. She entered alongside Naira, who wore her hair down and sported a black top. I felt an immense wave of relief wash over me as they approached the table, wished me a happy birthday, and shook my hand.
Ramesh and Arjun walked in next, and Naira couldn't resist taunting Ramesh about his shirt, tilting her head to scrutinize him as he made his way to the table. The shirt had a similar tint to our BS College uniform, which was infamous among students for being less than stylish.
Ramesh quietly took a seat in the corner, looking a bit sheepish. Kavya asked me if anyone else was left to join, and Naira replied that Sanjana would arrive in fifteen minutes. Hearing this, I glanced at my watch, wondering if waiting that long would be too late.
Arjun requested some water, so I went to the reception and ordered two bottles of water.
"Lo, aa gayi!" I heard someone exclaim, and I turned to see Sanjana J entering. To my relief, she hadn't arrived fifteen minutes late as Naira had predicted.
"Kaha hai wo?" Sanjana asked, scanning the table before quickly walking over to me to wish me, shaking my hand.
The three girls took their seats, leaving the leftmost chair empty for Lizz, while we boys settled onto the sofa.
My phone was left on the table. As Sanjana and I sat down, I thought about making Arjun sit between me and Ramesh and taking a spot in front of Naira.
However, Arjun insisted that I sit between him and Ramesh so that I could stay in the spotlight, considering it was my birthday. I was worried that someone might get suspicious of my intentions of trying to sit facing Naira. So, I ended up following his suggestion and sat facing Sanjana instead of Naira.
As soon as I sat down, I noticed Kavya, Sanjana, and Naira engrossed in their chatter, while Ramesh and Arjun were also lost in conversation.
In just a couple of moments, my mind couldn't help but think, "So, is this what birthday parties are like?"
I opened my phone to see Sanjana's reply: "I won't come," in response to the text where I had asked how long it would take her to arrive.
It was just another one of her jokes, considering she was right in front of me. I replied bluntly, "Okay, don't come."
She shifted her gaze from Naira to her phone, which had just received a notification, likely from my message.
"Bro...?" she glanced at me with a slightly annoyed look, as if my comment had hurt her feelings.
"What else am I supposed to say?" I thought, realizing I had probably been blunt again. She turned her gaze away from me and resumed chatting with Naira.
"Aur kaun baaki hai?"
It had been ten minutes since their arrival, and Sanjana asked the same question for the third or the fourth time. She was clearly not interested in waiting, and I kept telling her to. The two seats beside her were still empty, one of which was reserved for my latest special friend, Lizz, who had informed me in advance that she would be arriving late.
Just then, the owner—or perhaps the manager—of the restaurant approached me and asked if I wanted the cake back from the fridge, which I had given him earlier. I quickly nodded and requested him to bring it out.
Finally, the door swung open, and Lizz entered, a bag in her hand.
"Kaha pe hai?" she asked the same question as Sanjana had asked upon entering, looking around before handing me the bag and wishing me. She first sat beside Arjun to tie her shoelaces, which surprised me, although it shouldn't have really. And then suddenly she got up and sat on the last chair.
With her arrival, the table was finally full, though the extra chair between Lizz and Sanjana remained empty.
The cake box arrived shortly after, and someone inquired if it was from Monginis. I replied that it wasn't, prompting Sanjana to mention how much she loved Monginis. As I reached for the tape on the box, Sanjana pulled it towards her and began unboxing it herself.
"Relax, Tanish. It's your day today. Sit back and let her handle the box," my sixth sense chimed in.
As the box opened, the cake was revealed to everyone's delight. Everyone stood up as I took the knife, but Sanjana interrupted,
"Don't you want a picture of the cake?"
My excitement soared; the day just kept getting better and better. In my excitement, I completely forgot that I always took a photo of the cake before cutting it on my birthday. Had it not been for Sanjana's reminder, I might have missed capturing it that year.
She quickly pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures, after which I also took photos of the cake.
I picked up the knife again. We needed to light the candles, but there was no matchbox in sight. That's when I remembered that I hadn't been allowed to light candles at KFC last year, probably due to fire alarm regulations. When I mentioned this to the group, Ramesh teased,
"What's a few candles going to do? It's not like they'll set off the fire alarm!"
Without the candles, we all stood again, ready for the cake cutting. Just as I was about to make the first cut, a crucial thought crossed my mind.
"Hey, can someone record the cake cutting?"
I asked the group.
Thank goodness I remembered! This was shaping up to be one of the best birthdays I would ever have, and I wanted to capture it on video, alongside the pictures we would take later.
Sanjana hesitated for a moment before reaching for her phone. Before she could decide, Ramesh jumped in, "I'll record it!"
"Yeah, go ahead and film it," she said quickly, almost too quickly—revealing she hadn't really wanted to record it herself.
I couldn't help but notice it, though it didn't really matter. Maybe that's just how they were.
Of course, why wouldn't she hesitate? They're the big shots. Bade log hai ye. There was no way she'd record my video on her own phone.
For a second, I wondered why she did that. I had never done anything wrong—neither with her nor with anyone else. But the thought soon faded as the restaurant staff began singing a birthday song, and everyone around joined in. Smiling, I made the first cut into the cake.
The atmosphere was filled with laughter and joy. Just then, the two girls with a glowy face burst into laughter, while I tried to remove the piece delicately, not wanting to mess it up—especially not in front of Naira.
With great care, I dragged out the piece, glancing at others who clapped slowly, likely waiting for me to finally pull out that piece.
I served the first bite to Ramesh, then handed one to Arjun next. Both of them eagerly filmed the moment from different angles. Kayz playfully snagged a small piece from the one I held and fed it to me, and I returned the favor. After that, I served Naira, Sanjana, and Lizz.
Then, Naira picked up a chocolate shaving from the cake and held it up right in front of my mouth, saying, "Yahi khila dete hai ."
I took a small bite, savouring the flavour. But as I did, Naira insisted, "Kha le yahi!" placing it back in front of me.
Sanjana joined in, holding a piece of chocolate shavings in her hand. As soon as she brought it toward me, I took a light bite, and she shook her head, playfully chanting, "Thoos-thoos-thoos-thoos-thoos."
Before I knew it, I found myself overwhelmed by the delicious chocolate, laughing as Ramesh joined in on the fun, feeding me more as everyone else settled back down.
Everyone took a piece of cake, with Sanjana taking the largest portion by far. I couldn't resist and shamelessly teased her about it as I got up from my seat.
Then, in a playful mood, I gently tapped Naira on the head, reminding her of how she hadn't wished me on WhatsApp, on which she didn't say anything—or maybe she did.
Everyone handed me their gifts—Arjun and Naira came forward first, each with neatly wrapped boxes tucked inside carry bags, and then Lizz stepped up to present hers with a grin.
"Oye? ...should I take it out of your bag??" I overheard Ramesh saying something to Sanjana.
"Tu de rahi hai usko ya main de du?" he further asked her, teasingly.
Out came a golden-coloured gift-wrapped box, creatively tied like two ponies at both ends.
"Here," Sanjana handed it to me with a smile, and I added her box to the growing collection of gifts. Ramesh and Kavya explained that they would give me their gifts later, as they had ordered something special that would arrive in a couple of days.
I passed one menu to Ramesh and Lizz, and another to Naira and Sanjana. We needed to choose two out of the four starter options. To clarify, I confirmed with the manager, who explained that two plates of the same starters would be served per person, meaning the same two starters would be served to everyone.
Everyone was surprised by this system. Ramesh, being the only vegetarian among us, was unsure if he could finish both veg starters and decided to order only one. The rest of us, being non-vegetarians, went with chicken tikka and another starter, which, honestly, I can't even remember now.
Lizz and Ramesh were chatting on my left, lost in their conversation. On the other hand, Naira and Sanjana were busy gossiping. As usual, Sanjana was doing most of the talking while Naira listened. I couldn't help but secretly listen to their conversation
"Ha... he had gone there... who, what is it called?..??... where people practice ...??" Sanjana asked, struggling to find the word.
"Nets," I answered without much thought.
"Ha, wahi," she said, not even looking at me, and continued. Her hand, as always, was on her earlobe—a little habit of hers that reminded me of the chubby-cheeked girl.
"Ha...I told him to give him a kissie on my behalf," Sanjana said to Naira, her voice still the loudest on the table for me to hear.
"Ha, warna toh phir Sara waise bhi usko leke chali jayegi," Naira replied, flashing that signature smile of hers.
"Acha, so you both like Shubman Gill?" I interrupted, unable to hold back my curiosity.
"Haan," both the glowing-faced girls turned to me simultaneously, their expressions lighting up with excitement.
And then, without much thought, I blurted out,
"We lost the recent World Cup final because of him."
Ramesh immediately jumped in, "Don't talk about it. It still hurts everyone."
But I, for some reason, continued,
"He played a false shot and got out too early. That's why we lost." I knew deep down that he wasn't the only one to blame, but the words had already escaped.
Thankfully, the topic abruptly ended when someone eagerly said,
"Hey, please open the gifts, na."
I had initially planned to open all the gifts at home, but everyone insisted I open them right there—perhaps curious to see who had given what. Reluctantly, I gave in to their excitement.
I picked up Arjun's gift box first. As I began unwrapping it, he casually asked about the brand of the watch I was wearing.
"I don't know..." I replied without much thought. The immediate silence that followed, along with his quiet expression, made me realize I might have sounded rude.
A small pang of guilt settled in my chest as I continued unwrapping the box.
I saw a metal-strapped watch with "Citizen" written on it. I was stunned as I carefully took it out.
"Wait... but... why...?" I stammered, feeling at a loss for words. The watch looked so elegant that guilt crept in—I couldn't believe I was receiving something so beautiful.
"You should wear it."
Arjun suggested with a small smile. I removed the watch I was already wearing and handed him the new one, asking him to help me put it on. I had never worn such a formal-looking watch before. I wasn't even sure if it was fully formal, semi-casual, or semi-formal.
My dad had once explained the differences between these types, but I had completely forgotten. As Arjun adjusted the strap for me, I admired the watch, feeling a mix of excitement and unfamiliarity with its style.
The watch looked perfect on me. The way it gleamed under the light was captivating; everyone around the table looked at it, their reactions adding to my own excitement.
"Kya chamak hai isme," I muttered to myself, unable to stop smiling.
I turned to Arjun, gratitude filling my voice. "Thank you, yaar. Such a wonderful, wonderful gift," I said earnestly.
It was so thoughtful of him, and the fact that he chose something this meaningful made it even more special.
Arjun smiled quietly, and I could tell he was pleased to see how much I appreciated it.
I placed the watch back in the bag carefully and reached for Naira's gift next, a hint of which I had already gotten earlier.
When she handed it to me upon arriving, she had mentioned, "Be careful. It's made of glass." That had piqued my curiosity, and I'd been wondering since then what it could be.
I opened the wrapping and saw a sleek perfume box with "Aura" written elegantly on it.
"Let me see," Kavya said, extending her hand. I handed her the box and looked away for a moment. I looked around and when I glanced back, I found that not only had they opened the perfume, but Kavya had also sprayed some on her wrists to test it.
"The fragrance is amazing," she said, clearly impressed. Arjun followed suit, spritzing some on himself and agreeing with her about how nice it smelled.
Watching this, I felt a slight awkwardness. They had opened my gift, and it felt odd. But I couldn't say anything, because everyone looked completely at ease, treating it as the most normal thing. Maybe it was normal.
"Ae haa, gifts ka photo le na," maybe it was Kavya again.
I paused my excitement and happiness for a moment, trying to compose myself. On my previous birthday too, I had clicked a picture of all the gifts before opening them.
Here, I had already opened two gifts, but Sanjana and Lizz's gifts were still untouched. Quickly, I took a picture of their neatly wrapped gifts.
"Look, I couldn't really think of anything, so I just bought this," Lizz explained as I began unwrapping the biggest of all the gifts—a set of Axe Signature deo and perfume.
The big box made sense now.
And perhaps everyone was starting to feel a bit bored, watching me open one gift after another. Only Sanjana's gift remained unopened, and even I got momentarily distracted. That's when Sanjana, with a sweetly innocent expression, spoke up:
"You didn't open mine?"
"Nahi, tera ghar jaake open karega," Ramesh interjected, his tone carrying a slight roughness but still managing to keep things cool. It was obvious he was joking, though, trying to lighten the mood, but Sanjana didn't react to his comment.
Her eyes remained fixed on me, as if waiting for me to open her gift finally.
"Aren't you going to open mine?" she asked again, her tone light but persistent.
Her calm gaze was fixed on me, and I couldn't help but feel a little conscious. To cover it up, I chuckled and replied, "I'm opening it right now," but then decided to tease her a bit.
"Weren't you the one who said you wouldn't come? That's what your last message said, didn't it?" I added with a grin.
This time, only she laughed—no one else joined in.
"Tell me. Then who are you?" I joked further, keeping the tone light.
She just smiled again, the same easy, unwavering smile as before.
I finally picked up the golden, gift-wrapped box—the most uniquely wrapped one of all. Unlike the others, it had two twisted ends that resembled ponies, prompting me to blurt out,
"Are, ye toh badi wali toffee lag rahi hai."
Lizz, momentarily breaking her attention from Ramesh's conversation, glanced at the gift and then at me, her expression unreadable, before turning back to Ramesh. Maybe it was her silent way of telling me how lame my comment was.
Thankfully, no one else seemed to have noticed, so I quickly turned my attention to unwrapping the box.
But, as usual, I couldn't resist my habit of commenting on everything. Without thinking much, I asked Sanjana,
"Did you wrap this yourself?"
She nodded in confirmation, and for absolutely no reason, I taunted her with a playful grin,
"Kitni wahiyad wrapping hai,"
That constant smile on Sanjana's face—the same one that matched everyone's cheerful mood—suddenly changed. It softened into a plain, almost forced smile, as if something inside her had quietened down. Her eyes, which had been fixed on the gift wrapper a moment ago, now seemed to carry a faint sadness, like my casual remark had brushed against a place I never meant to touch.
"Abe pagal… har baar kuch na kuch ulta bol hi deta hai tu."
My inner voice scolded me, loud and clear.
Even now, when I recall that expression, I feel a twinge of guilt. A part of me wishes I had exercised just a little more control over my words that day. There's a lingering regret for causing her even the slightest discomfort.
Thank god, she was mature enough not to take it to heart. True to her nature, she quickly resumed chatting with Naira, her usual lively self, as if nothing had happened.
What surprised me most was that I never apologized to her for it. That was highly unlike me—someone who usually apologized for even the smallest mistakes, often more times than necessary. And yet, for this one, I remained silent, leaving a quiet regret that lingers to this day.
Opening the gift, the label read Park Avenue. It was yet another perfume—the third in a row. Honestly, my face fell a little upon seeing it.
"Like what will I do with these many perfumes?" I questioned myself, struggling to find any genuine excitement.
The usual smile I had managed for the previous gifts was harder to summon this time. Sanjana, who was then observing both the gift and my reaction, leaned slightly closer and asked, her voice barely audible over the background chatter,
"Tujhe pasand nahi aaya?" At least, that's what I thought I heard.
"Are, nahi! Bohot achha hai," I responded quickly, forcing a smile onto my face. It wasn't easy—I've always prided myself on being honest with myself and with others. But here I was, attempting to convince both Sanjana and myself that I genuinely appreciated the gift, even as my mind wrestled with the redundancy of receiving yet another perfume.
The box took me back to 2018—a six-year-old memory. I used to see ads for the same brand back then, featuring Kartik Aaryan, and that clever twist in the commercial had somehow stayed with me. My uncle had a Park Avenue pocket spray I'd always wanted, something I used to eye with quiet envy.
Over time, the wish faded—just another small desire lost in growing up. And now, years later, I was holding a perfume from the same brand. It felt like life's quiet way of returning a long-forgotten wish.
I quickly placed all the gifts into my bag, hastily stuffing the gift wrappers inside as well. As soon as the starters arrived, I exclaimed in a low voice, "Oh, the starters are here!"
Sanjana folded her hands and replied, "Everything will come out slowly."
We received a chicken dish—though I couldn't quite remember the exact name—while Ramesh got a vegetarian starter. The aroma filled the air, and my anticipation grew as we prepared to dig into the food.
I had eaten at the Barbeque Nation many times with a knife and fork, but I still wasn't very good at it. Everyone around me was using their spoon and fork effortlessly, and I managed to eat relatively politely, trying my best to keep up with their etiquette. Despite my struggles, I enjoyed the food and the lively atmosphere around us.
I wasn't talking much because everyone was engrossed in their own conversations. Most of my time was spent listening. Ramesh and Lizz were chatting about something on one side, while Sanjana, Naira, and Kavya were discussing their recent trip on the other. Arjun also seemed a bit quiet, blending into the background as everyone engaged in their discussions.
As I listened to the conversations around me, I noticed that the manchow soup hadn't arrived yet. We might have forgotten to ask for it. Everyone suggested that I could request it, but I thought it was best to let it go. Sanjana urged me again to let them know if I wanted the soup, but I decided against it.
However, when the waiter came by, he must have heard someone mention the soup because, before long, we were all served the soup, complete with a couple of bowls of crispy fried noodles to add.
After the soup, mojitos were served to everyone. Everyone took one, except Sanjana, who declined with a simple, mature shake of her head when I asked why she didn't take the drink. Arjun joined the group in a cheerful toast, clinking glasses with everyone—if my memory serves me right.
Shortly after, another plate of starters arrived—a different chicken dish, this one with a deeper red hue. Cutting it with a knife and eating it with a fork was even more challenging than the last dish.
A few moments in, Naira's voice broke the silence:
"I am using my hands to eat, so no one will judge me."
Her hand gestures, as always, were an unmistakable part of her personality. Hearing her, I felt a bit relieved, realizing I wasn't the only one struggling. I assured her no one would judge her, and everyone can eat the way they want.
But honestly, her attention wasn't on me—and to be fair, no one else's was either. As I shifted my attention away from the four of them, I caught bits of a light conversation between Lizz and Ramesh.
Lizz was talking about Shaurya, saying, "If he were here, he would've already messed up my leggings by kicking them endlessly."
Ramesh chuckled softly, and I couldn't help but smile faintly at their banter. I had intentionally seated Ramesh beside me—after all, he was my closest friend.
Sitting beside him always brought a sense of calm—a comforting sukoon as we say in Urdu. He felt like an elder brother to me, someone I could rely on without a second thought.
I felt proud of him as I watched him talk to Lizz. She sat at one corner, and he was at the opposite one, yet their conversation flowed effortlessly. They spoke in low voices, unlike the girls in front of me, who were busy gossiping loudly.
"I am in B division," someone said, pulling me out of my wandering thoughts. I had drifted off, lost in my own world, as everyone else seemed engrossed in their own conversations. When my focus returned to the table, I noticed that Sanjana had joined Ramesh and Lizz in their discussion.
"I'm in B as well," I quickly chimed in, hoping to join their group chat. Maybe, I thought, the four of us could strike up an engaging conversation together—it seemed promising, especially since all of us were from the state board. A light conversation did spark. Sanjana shared how, due to some confusion caused by a college professor, there was a significant delay in her receiving her ID card.
But perhaps it was Naira—she could never feel at ease without Sanjana. Even though she was already chatting away with Kavya, she wasn't ready to let Sanjana go either.
To my left, Ramesh and Lizz had resumed their conversation; to my right, Arjun and Kavya were engaged in their own chatter; and directly in front of me, Naira and Sanjana were lost in their lively exchange. I couldn't help but feel like the odd one out.
As the conversation flowed, we touched on various topics, where I jumped into conversations. At one point, Sanjana briefed everyone about the Paresh incident—how his father had stormed into the academy, aggressively questioning the teachers and getting into a heated argument with Sameer Sir.
Then, Kavya shared another incident related to him. She recalled how we were all playing cricket when Paresh's father suddenly showed up and dragged him away for some reason. Ved had told her about it, but I had witnessed the whole scene unfold right in front of my eyes.
I often checked the time on my watch every few minutes. Time kept slipping away. On one hand, I felt a little bad about being the odd one out, and on the other, I felt frustrated that time was passing so quickly. But at the same time, there was a sense of happiness—at least everyone was together.
After lunch, when we all got up, I asked Kavya to take some pictures of me—of course, she had an iPhone. Then, I told everyone that I'd be posting our pictures on Instagram and tagging them.
"Just show us the pictures before posting," Sanjana and Kavya said.
"I won't be able to tag you because you don't follow me back," I told Sanjana.
She immediately took out her phone, sent me a follow request, explaining that she thought she had already followed me back.
I clearly remembered sending her a follow request three times. Once from my old Instagram account, when I had sent requests to everyone at the start of 11th grade. Again, in November 2022, after my account got hacked, I had to resend requests to everyone.
And then just last month, when a few people, including her, got unfollowed by me, I had to send another request. but she never followed me back. And now she was acting as if she always thought she did.
"Wow… what a great liar.", I couldn't help but wonder.
(Yeah, you all must remember, since you all have been hearing this from Chapter 3 of Part 1—where I mentioned how this madam here never followed me back on Instagram)
And then Naira said she didn't know me back then, so she didn't follow me back. That had me wondering too—if I was a stranger, why accept my request in the first place? But, once again, I stayed silent.
"What is this, Captain?" Naira asked. I told her that was my Instagram ID.
Sanjana then pointed at the 03 in my username.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Oh, that's my first love's birthday," I explained casually.
"But… she's your ex now, right?" she smirked.
"So what? She was the only one I loved and didn't just have a crush on," I replied, my mind briefly picturing that chubby-cheeked girl.
Everyone seemed busy on their phones as the lunch was done and the desserts were to arrive.
"Tanish?" Sanjana's voice pulled me back.
"Did you post a story for Shruti?" she asked.
"Yeah, I did," I replied, noticing the way she squinted at me, as if suspicious. That was when I remembered—there had always been some friction between them.
"But she didn't post a story for you," either Sanjana or Naira pointed out.
"Yeah, but she mentioned me back," I said.
"Mentioning back isn't actually the same as posting a story for you," Naira remarked as she turned back to her seat, while Sanjana kept looking at her phone..
The Dessert was served—warm, syrupy gulab jamuns. But by then, most of us were already too full to indulge. Kavya, instead of sitting down, had started pacing around the table, as if walking off the heavy meal. The rest of us exchanged glances, debating whether to take another bite or call it quits.
Eventually, I paid the bill, and we all stepped out of the restaurant, clicking a few more pictures before heading toward the academy for our physics lecture.
"Chalo, bye!" Lizz waved both her hands enthusiastically as she left. It felt like she was gradually slipping away from the group. I was proud of Ramesh for staying by her side throughout lunch.
She was so quiet that none of us even realized when she had finished eating. Since I was sitting a bit far from her, I didn't get a chance to check on her either. Her dad was coming to pick her up, and after a brief discussion, it was decided that Ramesh and Arjun would go by scooty, while the rest of us would walk back.
As we walked, the three girls seemed unaware that I was walking alongside them. When Ramesh and Arjun rode past us on the scooty, Sanjana suddenly turned to me.
"You didn't go with them?" she asked.
"Nope. I still have a lot of birthdays left to celebrate—I don't want this to be my last one," I joked.
She burst into short laughter and reminded me,
"And you still have UPSC to crack."
"Yeah," Naira chimed in. "I was actually going to give you an UPSC book earlier."
"That's true," I grinned. "Once I become an IAS officer, I'll have to throw a big event—you all will have to be there."
"And what's the first thing you'll do as an IAS?" Sanjana asked.
"Sit down with my team, figure out the biggest problems in the district, and start fixing them," I replied.
Just then, my aunt called. Talking to her distracted me so much that I didn't even realize when we reached Naira's society, which was right in front of the academy.
Sanjana smiled as she spotted a lady taking Naira's bag from her.
"Is that her mom?" I asked.
She nodded.
"Namaste, Aunty ji," I greeted as she looked at me.
"Happy birthday, beta," she said warmly.
I smiled, a bit surprised that she knew.
"God bless you, beta. God bless you," she added a moment later.
Naira handed her bag to her mom, and we headed inside the academy. As soon as we entered the academy, a flood of birthday wishes came my way.
But then, Shaurya saw us. He looked a bit frustrated and immediately asked me why I hadn't invited him. I was taken aback. How could someone directly ask something like that—Why didn't you invite me? It caught me off guard.
But the irony was, I had invited him. He was the one who declined, saying he had a wedding to attend. Now, seeing that we all had fun without him, he seemed upset—like he had been left out.
Little did he know, even though I was surrounded by everyone there, I still ended up feeling alone.
When Sameer Sir entered the class, I handed him the cake box. He wished me and smiled, clearly pleased.
And then, the session began—the one everyone had been eagerly waiting for.
With barely two months left for the JEE first attempt, the weight of it was visible on everyone's faces. Sir started by discussing a study timetable, breaking down the preparation strategy. In between, he addressed doubts, ensuring no one felt lost.
I took the chance to clarify a few things myself—like my struggles with 12th-grade Physics, my almost non-existent grasp of Organic Chemistry, and, of course, the board exam-related concerns that lingered in everyone's minds. With JEE preparation taking priority, board exam doubts often got sidelined, and that day was the perfect time to bring them up.
As the nearly hour-and-a-half-long session came to an end, Sameer Sir asked a few students to stay back—Sanjana, Naira, Shaurya, Ramesh, and Arjun among them.
For a brief moment, I felt a slight pang of disappointment—why wasn't I asked to stay?
Shrugging it off, I zipped up my bag and turned to leave when—
"Toh tu nikal raha hai?" Sanjana asked, her voice pulling me back.
"Kyu? Kya hua?" I responded instinctively; my habit of questioning back before answering kicked in.
"Happy birthday," she said, a smile forming on her face as she extended her hand for a handshake.
"Thank you very much," I said, shaking her hand. Then, after a pause, I thanked her again for coming to my party.
"Huh?" She didn't quite catch that.
"I mean...," I quickly corrected myself, framing the sentence properly, "I'm thankful that you could come to my party."
From the moment the party started till the evening, I had been going around thanking everyone—over and over again—for making my birthday special. In fact, the best birthday of my life. And now, I was starting to feel awkward about how many times I had said thank you to all my guests.
"Arre, it's okay," she said casually, putting her things in her bag—or maybe just zipping it up, like me, and continued,
"Aur waise bhi, tu dost hai mera, toh mai kabhi bhi aa jaungi."
Hearing this, I stood still for a few moments. Saying nothing, I just wondered to myself—How could someone, so casually, without any extra effort, make you feel this good?
"Her words… do they remind you of someone?"
My sixth sense chimed in.
"Yes, it was Ro, my best friend from school, who had once said,
'Koi baat nahi, Tanish. Mai tujhe phir kabhi mana lungi.'
But let's be real—she never did. And maybe, she never even meant to. In the end, woh kabhi nahi aayi mujhe manane"
As I stepped out of the academy, I noticed a crowd gathered for some discussion—I wasn't sure what it was about. I saw the girls' group engaged in conversation, but I didn't pay much attention.
I started walking towards the staircase when I suddenly remembered—I still hadn't decided which pictures to post. Midway, I turned back and went to Kavya to ask her, but she seemed busy.
Instead, Sanjana quickly went through the pictures and picked a few for me. We exchanged smiles, and then I finally left.
Sitting on the bus, I scrolled through the stories I had uploaded. That cake-cutting video—it had become something truly special to me. Just then, my phone rang—it was my naani. I answered, letting our conversation distract me.
At home, when I showed Maa the cake-cutting video, she immediately pointed out how clumsy I looked, offering cake to my guests—with both hands instead of one.
Then, as I pulled out the unwrapped gifts from my bag, she gave her next taunt—that I shouldn't have opened the boxes in front of everyone. But the real reaction came when she spotted three perfume boxes lined up one after another.
"What's this? Itne saare perfume boxes?" she exclaimed, glancing up from the clothes she was folding.
I stayed quiet.
"Perfumes nahi diye jaate!" she declared, her tone half serious, half amused.
"Heh? Kyu?" I asked, puzzled.
"Arey! Bahut jhagde hote hain doston ke beech mein!" she replied with a laugh, her eyes still fixed on the boxes.
Her words did spark a small wave of overthinking—what if, by some odd chance, my friendships would really get tangled up in this superstition? Maybe not with everyone, but perhaps with the three who'd given me perfumes—Naira, Sanjana, and Lizz.
I brushed the thought aside soon after. We ordered pizza for dinner, and I began uploading my birthday stories.
That's when Nidhi—one of my closest friends from school—finally texted her wishes. I teased her for being so late and jokingly asked for her aashirvaad, since she'd always behaved like an elder sister. She too, was happy to hear about the celebration.
At night, before closing my books, I opened Instagram to check a few replies to my story.
Shaurya had sent a long message. He still seemed regretful about missing the celebration, explaining how his plan to attend a wedding had fallen through and he'd ended up spending the entire day in the library—"didn't study, didn't join the celebration," as he put it.
"I even thought of calling you," he wrote, "but it felt like it would get awkward, so I didn't."
His message went on for quite a while, full of explanations, and finally ended with a warm birthday wish.
As I scrolled further, his next text caught my attention. He asked whether Lizz had said something about him at the party—apparently, Sanjana and Naira had mentioned it to him. But he wanted to confirm, adding that those girls couldn't really be trusted and that everyone knew I wouldn't lie.
I told him the only thing Lizz had said—that leggings line—and assured him there was nothing more to it.
Still, I couldn't help but wonder why Sanjana and Naira, with their bright, smiling faces that evening, had gone and told Shaurya something like that about Lizz.
I exited the chat and opened Lizz's DM next. She had replied to my story too, asking, "Were you satisfied with the day?"
I stared at the ceiling for a moment, really thought about it, and as far as I remember, sent her a positive reply.
When I mentioned that Shaurya couldn't make it to the party, she said he should've called me — that it would've been more fun if he were there.
Typical Lizz. She found the whole party boring anyway. Her reply disgusted me a little. But at the same time, I was oddly thankful that Shaurya wasn't there.
He was, after all, very good friends with Sanjana, Lizz, and Naira. If he'd been there, he'd have been sitting right in the middle — on that empty chair between Sanjana and Lizz — running his mouth nonstop, cracking senseless jokes, keeping the three of them entertained while the rest of us sat there quietly.
I could already imagine the noise — that constant chatter that only he could cause — and how it would have irritated me even more, especially since I was already sitting alone.
I was sure even the others — Kavya, Arjun, and Ramesh — would have felt the same. But of course, no one would have dared to say anything. Those girls who treated him like their rakhi-brother, except Lizz, forever defended him.
Shaurya's name even came up in our table talk. Sanjana, as usual, was busy clarifying,
"Shaurya mera bhai hai… and mera accha dost bhi."
Ramesh interrupted, "Haan, but he tries to get every girl's attention."
"Haan, but woh as a bhai ke tarah hi karta hai na," Sanjana said calmly, shutting Ramesh up right there.
I could see how she was defending him even when he wasn't right. Every time he teased Naira, Sanjana, or Lizz — and they screamed back — everyone else got irritated, but no one ever said anything to him. Truth be told, those three girls had spoiled him completely.
When the topic finally drifted away, I told Lizz about what Shaurya had asked me earlier. But Lizz, being the sharp one she is, laughed it off. She said she already knew Sanjana and Naira would twist her words a bit — thoda namak mirch lagake — and add their own version to the story.
To her, it didn't really matter anymore.
As I absentmindedly opened my other DMs and clicked on the chats of those I had tagged, a small realization struck me.
Arjun had only liked the "mentioned you in a story" notification. Sanjana, on the other hand, had simply left the message on seen. But what stung the most was that—not one of them had mentioned me back.
I could almost hear Naira's voice in my head, saying what she once did, "Mentioning someone back isn't the same as putting up a story for them."
"Yeah, sure," I thought to myself. "At least Shruti mentioned me back—unlike you all, who never miss a chance to tag and re-tag each other every single time."
I remembered watching their stories on Shaurya and Rushika's birthdays—filled with tags, emojis, and captions. But somehow, on mine, despite tagging every guest, not a single one out of the six bothered to do the same.
And Sanjana—she had so easily agreed to come to my birthday party. Sitting at my study table, I couldn't help but find it ironic; she had never invited me to hers, yet had no hesitation attending mine.
"Haan, of course," I recalled her casual reply to my invite.
Where were those so-called high standards of hers now?
Maa would've never allowed me to attend someone's birthday if I hadn't invited them to mine.
Another year, another birthday. Like every year, it had come and gone. It felt special in the moment—but by the end of the night, it had already started to fade into memory, bittersweet and familiar, like every other.
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