Sharmila Ghimire
“Tomorrow is my birthday! Every one of you must come to my home at 10 o’clock,” said Deepu to his friends after the school was over.
His parents had bought new clothes for him as a gift on the occasion.
As soon as he reached home, Deepu paids a look at the bag of new clothes, and said, “O, I wish, it was soon tomorrow, and I could put on this outfit?”
He was impatient, for, he had to clad in the new clothes. He said eyeing at the clock, “It is just six o’clock in the evening. When will it be tomorrow?”
‘I will eat ice-cream while hanging out with parents tomorrow. And I will request them to buy me a bicycle, too.’ Contemplating over these plans, he fell fast asleep.
“Oh! It’s already six,” Deepu exclaimed the next morning, and got up hastily. He washed hands and face, and clad himself in the new attire. And then, he went to the temple with his parents.
Mother had carried flowers and akshata— votive rice in sandalwood paste— along with sweets and fruits to offer at the temple. His parents put tika—rice grains soaked in curd and vermillion— and garland, to him at the temple. Deepu also bowed his head at the feet of his parents with reverence.
He said, looking at his own cloth, “What a beautiful cloth! Isn’t it, Mom? Please, take a photograph of mine.”
Mother took a snapshot. And then, he arrived home, hopping and feeling happy.
All of his friends had already gathered at his home. Seeing them, Deepu’s face lit up with happiness. His friends were taken aback, for they had never seen anyone who went to the temple on his birthday.
“What a strange tradition!” said Rakesh, whispering into the ears of Himal.
Shaking hands with everyone, Deepu said with a gentle smile, “I am coming from the temple.”
His friends gave presents, wishing Deepu ‘Happy Birthday!’ Happy, Deepu, put tika to his friends and gave them prasad—food offered in the name of God—he had brought from the temple.
Milan asked in amazement, “Deepu, people cut cakes on their birthdays; but you gave us sacred food.”
Deepu gave a quick glance at Milan and said with a gentle smile, “We are Hindus. In our religion, a happy function begins with a worship of God. Our teacher has told us so in the class. You have forgotten completely.”
“My mother tells me that it’s not our culture to cut a cake on the birthday. It is just an imitation of othesr. And it’s not good to follow others’ culture, forgetting the culture of our own,” he said with a gentle smile.
His friends were contented with his explanation. “We should conserve our culture,” everyone uttered in a single voice.
One’s original culture was better than an imitated one. They all agreed with this view.
Deepu had brought sweets to feed his friends. Every one of them took the sweets happily.
“Mom, please take a photograph of us,” Deepu said.
Mother took a group photograph of them. Everyone was delighted and began dancing to a song. The birthday became quite enjoyable.
Thereafter, his all friends returned home with happiness. Mukesh, Angkita and Sanchita resolved to celebrate their birthdays performing a pooja at the temple from now on.
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[Sharmila Ghimire is a writer of children’s’ stories. She is based in Kapan, Kathmandu.]