RAMA Rao obtained his officer's permission to absent himself on the following day. "
Happy returns," exclaimed his officer. " Honestly, I did not think you were forty ! "
Walking down the road to the bus stand, Rama Rao paused for a minute to view
himself in a large mirror that blocked the entrance to a hair-cutting establishment. " I
don't look forty," he told himself and passed on.
When he left home he had not known that it was the eve of his birthday. It was while
drafting an office note that he realized that the i4th of April was ahead. As a rule they
never fussed over birthdays at home, but this was a special event : crossing the fortieth
milestone seemed to be an extremely significant affair, which deserved to be marked
down with feasting and holiday.
At Parry's Corner he struggled into a bus and hung on to a strap. " Good thing we were
monkeys once," he reflected. " Otherwise how could we perform our dinging, and
hanging down ; exactly the operations of a monkey, the only difference being that they
get on smoothly in a herd while we "
The conductor had tried to push him out, somebody squeezed his sides and scowled
at him, and someone was repeatedly trying to stand on his toes, and the driver was to
rattle the passengers to their bones by stopping and starting with fierce jerks. Rama
Rao wriggled through and fought his way out when the bus stopped at Central Station.
He walked down to Moore Market for a little shopping. Nobody at home knew of his
birthday. He would surprise them with gifts ; printed silk pieces, coloured ribbons,
building blocks, and sweets. It would be such a novelty, giving gifts instead of
receiving. He must also buy vegetables and provisions for a modest feast. It was going
to be a quiet family party and if the children were disinclined to go to school he would
not force them.
He went round the Moore Market corridor, for a preliminary survey. " Shall buy
vegetables last," he told himself. He went into a cloth shop and demanded to be shown
printed silk and selected three or four bits. The bill was made up. As he scrutinized the
items his hand went into his pocket to bring out the purse. It was not in its place. He
returned the package. He walked out of Moore Market, rambled aimlessly, his mind all
in a boil. He sought a park bench and sat down, trying to recollect when he had last
taken out his purse. " Must have brushed against a pick-pocket in the bus," he told
himself. He felt depressed. He looked about : a mendicant was sleeping on another
bench, some children were gleefully destroying a flower bed. " Some pick-pocket to
deprive me of my fortieth birthday ! " He felt angry with the perverse fates which
messed up and destroyed all one's plans.
People said forty was a man's best age. Every one attained maturity of mind and body.
A man's habits were fixed, his prejudices and favours were solidified once for all : and
his human relationships were well defined and would be free from shocks and
surprises. Rama Rao dwelt on all these fruitions of forty and was filled with misgivings.
" What have I achieved at forty ? I have lived sixteen years beyond the point marked by
the statistician as the expectation of life for an Indian. I have completed three quarters
of the longevity of my elders. What have I achieved ? "
He brooded over it and answered. " I have four children, the eldest reads in a college.
The wife has all the jewellery she had asked for. I have risen to be the head of my
section in the office . yet I live only in a rented house. The marriage of my daughter
and the career of my son will have to be tackled by me within five years. Am I good for
it ? "
He was filled with consternation at being forty, at the duties that were definitely
expected of him because he was supposed to have reached maturity. He beat his brow
at this thought. He wondered if he had really changed. He cast his mind back. The
earliest birthday he could remember was the one when his father had presented him
with a glittering lace cap ; then there was his twentieth birthday soon after his B.A.,
when he resolved he would not be this or that ; it was a catalogue of " I won't this or
that " among them he could only recollect that he had resolved never to marry and
never to take up any employment unless they offered him three hundred rupees for a
start, some job which would put him on a swivel chair behind a glass door. And then
his thirtieth birthday when he was seized with panic as he realized that he was a father
of three. He then believed that things would somehow be clear-cut and settled at forty.
And now here he was. What was it going to be like at fifty or sixty ? Things would
remain just the same.
If one did not worry about oneself one started worrying over children and grand-
children. Things did not change. Rama Rao did not feel that the person who was
pleased with the gift of a lace cap was in any way different from the one who felt a thrill
when the office communicated an increment. The being who felt the home-tutor's
malicious grip now felt the same emotion when the Officer called him up in a bad
temper.
Deep within he felt the same anxiety and timidity and he wondered how his wife and
children could ever look up to him for support at all. He suddenly felt that he had not
been growing and changing. It was an illusion of his appearance caused by a change
of curly hair into grey hair, and by the wearing of longer clothes. This realization
brought to his mind a profound relief, and destroyed all notions of years ; at the
moment a birthday had no more significance and fixity than lines marked in the air
with one's fingers. He decided not to mention to anyone at home that it was his
birthday.
As he walked back home his mind was still worried about the purse. After all only
twenty rupees and an old purse containing receipts, but his wife would positively get
distracted if she heard of the loss. Last time when he could not account for five rupees
after a shopping expedition she completely broke down. She must on no account be
told of the present loss. He would keep her mind free and happy that would be the
birthday gift for her keeping away from her the theft of the purse just as the purse itself
was a gift to an unknown pick-pocket.
He went home late, since he had to walk all the way. " Held up by unexpected
business on the way," he explained. Next morning he went to officeusual. " Your
birthday over ? " asked his chief.
" Yes, sir, over earlier than I expected," he explained.
" Very good," said his officer. " I was hoping you would turn up for at least half-a-day, a
lot of things to do."
" I knew that, sir," Rama Rao said, going to his desk.
