Age is just a number, or maybe not

Grace, class and poise. A smile that sprinkles sunlight into every corner of the room.

That is how I describe myself to Sumita.

She, of course, points at my grey hairs and missing tooth to put me in my place.

Which is why I relish her birthday. It is an opportunity to remind my wife that she is growing old, too.

All through the special day, I very subtly help her remember this immensely important fact.

I even try, without success, to place candles equivalent to her age on the cake.

She, wise through experience, sees through my every move. As always, I stay magnanimous in defeat, but refuse to surrender.

Of course, it is Messi who enjoys the day more than the birthday girl. Mummum’s birthday means cake, balloons, and a fabulous birthday treat.

It is a day to celebrate a special person who binds our family together.

Contrary to the common notion, age is more than a mere number. Our age doesn’t just speak of how many trips around the sun we have clocked on the calendar.

It also speaks of what we have endured, the things we have survived, and the moments we have enjoyed. The hurt, the joy, the agonies and ecstasies.

We are who we become with experience

We are who we become not just with age, but with experience.

Our age is also a big bag full of memories collected from childhood through adolescence to the present.

And on this special day in September, we celebrate not just the age, but also the person. I am thankful to be part of her journey from a bubbly girl to a lady, a picture of grace, poise and class.

A person whose smile sprinkles sunshine across the room.

Happy Birthday, Sumita.

Age is just a number….which, once again, would have looked good on that cake.