My son was born on Sunday, June 30, 1991. A Sunday child is considered a happy child, and so was mine. He was a smiling, bubbly child — except on his birthday. On his first birthday we invited neighbours and colleagues. Seeing a crowd, he put his two fingers in his mouth and sat through watching the proceedings.
On his next birthday, when he was two, he had a little fever. So we just got some chocolates and he distributed it in the neighbourhood enthusiastically.
By his third birthday he had got to know the importance of the day. In subsequent years he would go and invite his friends before even I planned for the event.
Celebrating themwas no burden for me. I needed just one day to get the dress, decorations, cake and snacks. But then I would be stumped when I had to buy a gift. My selection would never match my son’s expectations.
And the day would invariably end in tears. One year I took him to the toy shop and asked him to select his own gift; I thought this would solve his problem. No, it didn’t. He was unable to make a choice from among all the toys around. At last he selected a remote-controlled car. But then, after the birthday he made a sad face saying he wanted a surprise gift.
Now, how am I to know what gift would surprise him and make him happy? As the month of June would approach, I would rack my brains to search for that perfect gift that would surprise him and make him happy. I experimented with toys, books, sporting gear and so on. He would receive the gift, open it and smile. But I would miss the thrill in him; he would’ve expected something more wonderful.
I would keep my ears open to make a mental note of something he really wants and buy it for his birthday. As he grew, the gifts became more costly and diverse. I bought him a bicycle, X-Box, He-man and so on, but the surprise remained elusive.
Thus the years rolled by and he grew up. He finished college and went to the United States for higher studies. Whenever there was a friend or acquaintance visiting around his birthday, my husband and I would hunt for the gift, mindful of the weight of the object and send it for our dear son. This year our son is working in a multinational company and it was already his birthday time. My husband after much careful research ordered on-line gifts for my son. But then, they reached him a week before his birthday. Two days before the birthday we get a message saying, “dad mom, I want a surprise gift”. Again we racked our brains and ordered an assortment of chocolates, which he love.
On his birthday, we had a pleasant surprise. Our son sent a message saying, “Mom Dad, I don’t want any gifts from now onwards. You are my greatest gift. You both gave me a wonderful childhood. Thank you for all you have done for me.”
Our hearts jumped with joy but we wondered at the sudden change in our now-adult child. When we spoke to him, we came to know that one of his close friends, a colleague, had recently lost his father. He had to rush back to India to be with his family. Our son helped and supported him at this hour of need. He also agreed to be a substitute for his work in the office. In the process, he had self-introspection and came to the conclusion that parents are the perfect gift.
radhika_writer@yahoo.co.in
