THE HAPPY BIRTHDAY

BY- BIBASWAN MAHARANA

In this world full of sane people there was a street, well known for an insane one. That road took me to my destination every day. For a psychologist of 27, unmarried there was never any reason to reach home early. I was new to that city. And yes, even psychologists do feel lonely. But much to my delight I had got a case to study. A case which was never enrolled in any hospital. A case that roamed around in the city just like hundred others. Everyday while coming back from the hospital I would pack my food from a biriyani stall. Again, it’s just a lie that bachelors cook. On my way I would see him strolling here and there with his mental disorder just like a child does with his/her favorite doll. Then one day I decided to pack two food packets, one for me and the other one for him. My bike slowed down and seeing me get off it, he came to me. Didn’t ask for anything just looked at me, actually staring is the word for it.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“umm... Baadshah” he replied.

“oh … nice name. But do you know what that means?” I again asked. And he just scratched his head and started walking. Whereto? I didn’t know and am sure he was also unaware of that.

“Hey wait!! Baadshah?” I called out. And ran to him, handed over the packet of food.

“It’s for you” I assured him. He took the packet and walked away humming an old song.

Then after a week of continuously meeting him, he talked to me. That day to I got off from my bike and even before I could reach him, he came to me, excited.

“Hey!! Come. Come and sit here with me” he said and pulled me by my hand. I sat with him on that footpath.

“Today we will eat together.” He said and took the parcel from me, opened one packet and put it in front of me and the other one near himself. After some time, he showed a picture. A picture of a lady with a child,though it was hand drawn. He had lost his family. Then after an hour of talking to him, I left.

Next day I ordered some sweets along with biriyani. Then I reached him and again he took me to the footpath.

“Every day you only bring biriyani. Why have you brought sweets today?” he asked.

“Baadshah because today is my birthday.”

“OH!! So today is your Happy birthday!!!” he almost shouted and ran to the other side of the road. He returned with a strange structure made of mud. Then he searched for a small stick and got one. He handed me the stick. He pointed at the mud structure and asked me to cut the cake. And suddenly, he started singing.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you” he went on like this for some time.

For him it didn’t matter what the cake was made of, what the knife was made of, but he was smiling, singing and enjoying making everything just ethereal. Can you imagine? An insane person celebrating the birthday of a man he knew nothing about. That night I asked myself questions. Why is it so that whatever he did for me felt strange? Why was he considered to have a mental disorder? because whatever he did was just for me and to make me happy. If he was a person who understood emotions, then why was he termed as insane? Just because the intensity of the pain of losing his loved ones was so high that it had to be considered as impractical. In this world the sane people are running insanely after something or the other. No would ever do anything for a stranger and if someone does then of course the one has to be different. In some parallel universe Baadshah’s name truly justifies his character. He being the one who understands others, cares for others without even knowing them, he being the one who considers everyone his own, he being that stranger who can be your biggest supporter. Then of course he is the king, the Baadshah.

 


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