It is that time of the year again; my birthday. The day I feel grateful for having survived another year in this monstrous world with a not-so-annoying illness. The day or as I say, the midnight begins with the continuous ringing of phones- mine, mom's and dad's. My friends and relatives whom I haven’t seen in months begin calling to wish me, praying for all my wishes to come true to which I reply with a polite 'thank you'. Honestly, my friends calling me up in the middle of the night excite me and make every cell of my existence burst with crackers of happiness. If I were to ever make a list of all the things I'm grateful for in my life, they'd surely be among the top few. Meanwhile, my mom and dad wish me a happy birthday with the sweetest peck in the world, on my forehead and go off to sleep, until we see each other at breakfast in the morning.
The thing which is as constant as the position of the North Star is our little ritual of making a wish before blowing off the candles and cutting the cake. This was flagged off by my very religious mom who believes in doing good and in the power of the universe. I, on the other hand, have always been the one ruled by determinism, searching for the cause and effect for anything and everything that happens in my life. While my mom says that I suffering from Athrogryposis Multiplex Congenita is because God could only find my parents as the strongest and the most suitable ones to take care of a child like me; I refuse to believe and say that it is because something happened with my muscles which rendered them weak and fragile. Oh, don't get me wrong, I still have a strong will!
Nevertheless, I have always valued smiles more than logic because eventually you're remembered for the time you make someone smile, not when you impose your logic on them. Thus, like always, I go ahead with this cute yet illogical ritual, make a wish and blow off the candles. I see a version of worried contentment on my mom's face, which looked heavenly a few seconds ago in the light of the candles - worried because her eyes long to see me walking on my feet and content because even after being a non-believer, I do it. (Cont in comments)