The Little Girl in the Floral Frock

By Baishnabi Rajnandini Bora

I can still hear the laughter echoing through our small house, the faint glow of candlelight dancing on my excited face. As a child, birthdays weren’t about gifts or grand parties; they were about love, warmth, and the simple joys of being surrounded by family.

The day would begin with MAA gently waking me up, whispering a blessing in my ear. My sister would spend the whole day preparing a handmade birthday card and a special present for me, while Aita would be in the kitchen, making my favourite kheer for me and my friends. The sweet aroma of the kheer would fill the entire house, making it feel even more festive. My father, on the other hand, would be busy selecting the perfect plant for me—one that I would plant before cutting the cake, a tradition that made me feel connected to nature.

After taking a refreshing shower, I would run straight to the mandir, seeking blessings from God to start the day with divine grace. Then, I would twirl and dance around my grandparents, eager for their gifts and words of wisdom.

Aita would smile warmly and say, "Happy birthday, my dear! Study well and grow up to be a great person!"Koka would gently pat my head and add, "May wisdom and knowledge always be with you. Stay blessed!"

I knew, without even looking, that Maa was in the kitchen, preparing all my favorite dishes. The soft crackling of mustard seeds in hot oil, the gentle bubbling of Masor Tenga, and the comforting smell of freshly mashed Aloo Pitika filled the air. She hummed an old tune as she carefully cooked each dish, making sure everything was perfect. I peeked into the kitchen and saw her, busy yet smiling, stirring the chicken curry with love.

After that, I rushed into the backyard to plant my birthday tree. It always felt special—watching something else grow alongside me. That year, it was a tiny flame tree sapling, its delicate leaves swaying gently in the wind, just like the excitement bubbling inside me.

Once lunch was over—the most delicious meal of my life—I set off on my mini cycle, calling my friends from every corner of the village. My happiness and excitement knew no bounds. They were all invited to the celebration at 4 PM sharp.

My sister and I got to work decorating the house. Balloons, ribbons, flowers—our little home transformed into a colorful dreamland. My father had ordered the cutest cake for me from the town bakery—a pink Barbie cake, my absolute favorite! My sister, who usually never let me feel superior, made sure I felt extra special that day.

Before the celebration began, I slipped into the beautiful floral frock my mom had gifted me. Its soft fabric swayed as I twirled in excitement, making me feel like a little princess.

When my friends arrived, I closed my eyes, made a wish for my family, my friends, and myself to stay happy and healthy, and blew out the candle. Everyone sang the Happy Birthday song as I cut the cake, the moment filling my heart with pure joy.

Afterward, everyone was served garam-garam puris, curry, my Aita’s kheer, and, of course, cake. We played games, laughed endlessly, and created memories I would cherish forever.

But my birthday wasn’t complete without a visit to the nearby orphanage. Along with my parents and sister, I carried my favorite stationery items as gifts for the children there. Maa had also prepared a soft, delicious cake just for them. Seeing their eyes light up with joy as I handed them their gifts made my day even more special.

After a heartwarming evening with them, we returned home, my heart full of love and gratitude.

And this is why birthdays have always been my favorite—because my sweet little family knows exactly how to make me feel special and loved.

By Baishnabi Rajnandini Bora