Tonight was my neighbor's son's birthday, and it made me so happy. I wish I had some pictures, or had filmed the entire thing, but alas, I hadn't exactly been planning for a party.
It's Sunday evening, and my doorbell wrang at 8:00. As, when I am within the 4 walls of my own home, I don't always dress appropriately for the outside Indian world (especially since I was getting ready for bed...yes, at 8pm on a Sunday night), I yelled "One Nimsha!" (One minute!) It wrang again. (An aside: my doorbell sings a different song each time it's pushed. I wonder how many are in its repertoire?) I pulled on my Eden Prairie hoodie and flannels (circa 2002) and opened the door. Shobha, my neighbor, was standing there.
"Jen! It's my son's birthday! Come fast!" She pulled me out of my door and we started down the hallway until I stopped dead in my tracks. "Shobha - I'm not dressed!!!" She looked at my tattered sweatshirt in chagrin and said, "Go change. Go fast!!"
So I ran back to my room, trying to figure out what I could easily pull on (I did laundry earlier this evening so most of my go-to's are drying.) Then I ran out, slamming the door shut and trotting down the hallway. (This was the point where I thought that I should bring my camera. But the rush, mixed with my uncertainty as to whether or not my camera would be worth bringing because of its increasing slowness and low quality of photos, threw that out the door.
The room was overflowing with neighbors and a huge beautiful cake sat on a small table. A handful of Yeshu's friends had also come, dressed all cute for a party...cuter than I was dressed, definitely :)
I won't give you a play-by-play.
But I wil tell you this:
I think birthdays really have a way of bringing out the best in people. Challenging them to act their age, if you will.
Yeshu is normally the most unruly and disrespectful child I have ever encountered. Blatantly disobeying, talking back to his mom, spanking her when she spanks him, throwing his garbage on the ground instead of in the garbage can, never doing what he is told. But today, dressed in his birthday best, he was a different person. Suddenly responsible. He posed for pictures with his parents, even putting his arms around them and drawing them close. He patiently waited while each guest stuffed a piece of cake into his mouth (it's tradition). He thanked his friends for his gifts, and when it was time to serve the cake he went, unasked, to fetch more plates when they ran out. He served all the guests, and then himself.
Maybe this is culture, perhaps he is performing according to social expectations and norms. However, the birthday had an effect on his relationship with his big brother, too. Kishan is a few years older, and generally they fight. All the time. Today, however, Kishan was a protective and proud big brother. In each picture, he had his arms around Yeshu protectively. He reported each gift, and who gave it, to his mother and (again, without being asked), carefully placed a julabee on every cake plate.
Will this "birthday behaviour" continue? I doubt it. But it was relieving to see the kids loving each other, respecting their families, serving their guests. And perhaps, just perhaps, it was a sign of the becoming that will occur in this new year.
Deep observations aside, the night was full of smiles and laughter. When most of his friends had left, Yeshu and a friend ran in to the bedroom to play with some new toys. Kishan, like most oldest children, was left in limbo to decide if he was still a child or if he should hang out with the adults. But when Shobha scooped him an extra big helping of Biryani, you can bet your buttons he stayed. And when the adults whipped out the home videos, the little ones returned as well. What started as a birthday ended up as an evening watching the footage from the birthday boy's parents' wedding.
I'm on my way to bed (again), but I can still hear the boys playing in the parking lot below me.
The party continues.
The party continues.
