I can't believe it. Days pass into months and months into years.And year after year just another day becomes a significant day that you'd rather not wait for. I'd rather not count those insignificant years gone by...
First, its the parents, celebrating milestones of something they created.Day after day they celebrate the lil things, little changes they see in their children. They lovingly called it 'growing up'. But really unknown to them, they really celebrate their slow paced independence.They celebrate when the child first walks on their own and dint need their support. They celebrate the day they dint have to be by the child's side, and the child could stand on his own two feet. (Having said that, of course I agree, they have every reason to celebrate it because its not everyday that a child is born to you. That you create and develop something "alive" together, so celebrate it all the way Amma & Appa)
But what is ironical is that the child himself thinks that they are being celebrated. Its the noise, the happy faces, the happy attention span, and the easy attitude that distract him from the truth behind the reality. And so, its an illusion that he lives in, for a long long time. Because, long after he took his first step - and they celebrated. Long after he was on his own - and they celebrated. Long after all of that and they finished celebrating; the child continues to celebrate. He stood there proudly clapping his non - achievements. He stood there standing tall celebrating his mundane life. He stood there with a happy gait and a happier smile celebrating, oblivious to his own loss of childishness or for the loss of a better word, childhood.
What is unknown to him is that future may no longer bring the same security and comfort of being taken care of, of being blindly dependent, and of being careless and free are soon to be gone replaced with burdens of responsibility and grudging reality that life is no child's game. And that its time to turn the tables soon, that what you took for granted, may not be; like the food on the table and the washed and ironed clothes. Or even the comforting warm arms or the morning sounds of chores.
That what comes is made of adults and adulteration.
For so much that has gone missing, I refuse to count today. I refuse to move on. I refuse to say that I ll be a year older. I refuse to let the memories be bygone. I refuse to say that I ll be dying soon one day (I know, kinda dramatic). I refuse to be a year closer to 25, or wait is it 52? I refuse to let go of them, my loved ones. I refuse it, I refuse it all.
Today, I ll live another day - like its my only one. But please don't celebrate it & please dont let it be Happy or Merry. Just today - this one day, please.