The Quiet Birthday That Meant the Most

Today (18-Feb-2026) was my husband’s birthday.

There was no lavish party.
No grand dinner outside.
Just a simple celebration at home.

And somehow, that made it even more special.

Last night, without anyone asking her, my daughter had drawn a picture for her dad. The moment I told her in the morning that it was Appa’s birthday, she ran to him and gave him her handmade drawing.

Then she proudly declared that she would decorate the house for him.

She was beyond excited.

The morning felt unusually calm. As always, I packed his lunch — beetroot methi chapati with cauliflower, sweet corn, and cashew gravy. But today, he didn’t have to drop our daughter at school before heading to work.

That small change made a big difference.

He left home before 8:00 AM and said, almost smiling, that he had eaten peacefully after such a long time.

Maybe that was the best gift I gave him this year — a peaceful breakfast and an early start to his day.

As he reached the office, birthday messages from his brothers and friends started pouring in. It was a sweet surprise for him.

And then — something very typical happened.

He forgot his mobile phone at home.

So around noon, I went to his office to hand it over. That little unexpected visit felt special in its own way — like a small pause in the middle of an ordinary workday.

I had already gifted him a Samsung Galaxy A17 5G for Valentine’s Day, so I didn’t plan anything extravagant this time. No grand cake, no over-the-top surprises.

But I did order a small 500-gram Lotus Biscoff cheesecake from a home baker here in Vadodara — because I knew both my husband and my daughter would never agree to skip a cake-cutting.

After finishing my work, my daughter and I began decorating the house. We filled it with balloons. For the first time, I used balloon arch strips — and honestly, I enjoyed planning and setting it up more than I expected.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was ours.

In the evening, we cut the cake together, had dinner at home, and simply sat and talked.

No noise.
No rush.
No pressure.

Just us.

As the day ended, I felt grateful — for the simplicity, for the calm, and for everyone who took a moment to send their wishes.

Sometimes, the most beautiful birthdays aren’t the loud ones.

They’re the peaceful ones.

And today was exactly that.

Comments

June 15: The Day I Buried My Mother and Met My Daughter

Eleven years ago, on this very day, our family grieved all over again. My mother passed away on May 8, 2015. While the initial rituals were completed within a few days, one final responsibility remained. Since she had been cremated, we decided to take her ashes to our ancestral graveyard, where my great-grandparents and grandparents were buried. On June 15, 2015, we laid her ashes to rest. Along with them went her favorite sarees, her notebook, the pen she always carried, and several belongings that had been a part of her daily life. As we buried those ashes, it felt as though we were saying goodbye to her all over again. Her ashes were the last tangible reminder we had of her, and letting go was not easy. Six years later, in 2021, I was pregnant with my daughter. My due date was June 7, 2021, but God had a different plan. Days passed, and there were no signs of labor. We waited and waited. By June 13, I had crossed 40 weeks, and labor was induced without much success. On the night of ...

Journaling: A Habit That Became a Lifeline

Journaling has been an inseparable part of my life for over 20 years—almost as natural as brushing my teeth or taking a bath. It’s more than just a habit; it has become an obsession. Every day, I capture my thoughts, emotions, and moments, pouring them into the pages of my diary like an old friend who never judges. Growing up, I was an average student, often overlooked in school and college. My parents weren’t the most supportive, and humiliation became a constant companion, especially in front of family, friends, and neighbours. But amidst all of this, my diary remained my refuge, my safe space, and my most loyal friend. During my school and college days, my diary listened when no one else would. It never ridiculed or belittled me. It saw my laughter, my tears, my struggles—it even stopped me from making drastic decisions at times. If not for my diary, I don't know how I would have survived those years. Reliving the Past Through Old Journals Back then, my diary held stories of joy...

Tomorrow, My Morning Coffee Will Taste Different

It’s been three weeks since we moved to Vadodara. Every morning since, I’ve unknowingly built a quiet ritual—coffee in hand, eyes on the sky, watching planes take off from Vadodara Airport, which I can see clearly from our balcony. There's something calming about it. Hopeful, even. A small moment of stillness as the world begins to move. But today… today was not like the other days. Around noon, news broke about the Air India crash at Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel Airport, Ahmedabad. And everything I felt in those quiet, breezy mornings shattered into something heavier, more fragile. It’s strange how suddenly a routine can take on new meaning and how quickly something comforting can start to feel ominous. My husband used to be a frequent flyer to Ahmedabad in the months before we settled down here. I was right there at that same airport with my dad and daughter, barely three weeks ago. I still remember my first visit to Ahmedabad and I wasn’t particularly excited. It felt temporary. ...

Maithily's Scribblings

Search This Blog