This was not a some other day like any day.
The room is full of aroma of Biryani. Ma mixing the pieces
of chickens into the prepared rice. The room is faintly
scented of the cake baked by my wife in micro oven. Now the
smell of the baking is fainted one replacing by the aroma of Biryani.
To have the cake I have to wait ’til the evening, and to savor the
taste of biryani I’ve wait till dinner. Between this two at some time
I’ll savor the sweetness of the payesh, the rice pudding in milk,
prepared by Didi as like any other year. The cell phone is now
sleeping, few wishes are still yet to come. This was not some other day.
Today is my birthday and this is what my family prepared for me as the Birthday Gift.