Simba's Birthday

Cartoons didn’t entertain him anymore, toys didn’t fascinate him, and Ninja the dog didn’t make him smile either: for Simba was alone on his birthday, he was sad and angry.

It was the first time in four years that Simba was alone on his birthday. Although everything was planned – a big birthday party, toys, a big ‘Batman’ cake, a small picnic – his parents had to leave for New Delhi four days prior to the event, promising their baby they would return on time. Unfortunately, they couldn’t. But for Simba, they didn’t.

It was a Sunday. Just as always, Ninja licked Simba’s face and woke him up. Simba almost giggled, but having suddenly realized his parents weren’t with him on his birthday, he pushed Ninja away. Ninja stood by the cot, wagging his tail: confusion was written on his face. ‘Go, I won’t play with you,’ said Simba.

Ninja tilted his head and continued to wag his tail. ‘Get out,’ said Simba, pushing him with his tiny hands. Ninja barked once, as if saying, ‘What’s wrong with you today?’ Hearing Ninja’s bark and Simba’s angry words, the housemaid came running, ‘What happened?’

‘Just take him away from me,’ said Simba, throwing a pillow at the Golden Retriever.

‘Come on, boy,’ said the housemaid to Ninja. ‘He’s angry, because his parents are not here with him today.’

Ninja squealed as he walked outside. If Simba knew his friend was sad, he didn’t bother.

***

The phone rang for the eleventh time. The housemaid picked it up again, aware of the caller, ‘Hello,’ she said into the phone. ‘It’s for you again. Your mom,’ she said to Simba, who was sitting by the window. ‘I won’t talk to her,’ he said and continued to look out the window.

‘Hmmm,’ said the housemaid. ‘He still doesn’t want to talk to you,’ she said into the phone.

A moment later, she said to Simba again, ‘Your mom says she is going to come tomorrow. And with a big present!’

‘I don’t care,’ said Simba, without turning back.

The housemaid put the phone on speaker phone. ‘I’m so sorry, darling,’ said Simba’s mother. ‘We’ll go on a long picnic tomorrow when we get back, all right?’ she paused, possibly expecting her son to talk to her. When Simba didn’t say anything, she continued, ‘Listen, your dad’s friend is coming there this evening. We have sent you a gift. I’m sure you’ll love it. Now give mom a kiss.’

Simba slowly got off the window ledge, walked towards the sofa, and picked up the phone: ‘You said you wouldn’t go.’

‘I know. But it was important, my dear. We had to go. I promise I’ll make it up to you.’

‘OK, bye. Love you,’ said Simba, and disconnected the phone.

***

The first guest, one of Simba’s kindergarten friends, walked in when the clock struck six. Holding a birthday present that looked bigger than he was, the boy placed it by his side and sat down on the sofa. By six-thirty, the big hall was thrumming with young voices. The housemaid brought the birthday cake and placed it in the center of the hall. With the Batman standing by the side of his Bat Mobile, the cake looked exotic and impressive: covered in chocolate sauce and nuts, it made a few boys salivate. Every kid in the hall exclaimed in a different way: ‘Wow!’, ‘Batman!’, ‘What a great cake!’, ‘Wonder how batman tastes!’, ‘I will also have the same kind of cake for my birthday,’ ‘No, I will have Superman,’ ‘Hulk!’, ‘Thor!’, ‘It’s made of chocolate, no?’…

Simba smiled haughtily as he got ready to blow the five candles. He blew them as his friends sang the birthday song, without blinking, without taking their eyes off the cake. Simba cut the cake and stuffed a big piece of it in the housemaid’s mouth. His friends clapped and laughed and clapped hard.

A pile of presents lay on the couch. Simba accepted each present with a gracious “thank you.”  ‘Can I have two pieces of cake?’ asked one of his friends, while giving a present. ‘Sure,’ said Simba. ‘Can I get a part of Bat Mobile?’ asked his friend again, not taking his eyes off the cake. ‘All right,’ said Simba. ‘But can we exchange our Batman trading cards?’

The little boy thought for a while and said, shrugging, ‘Sure.’

The housemaid served cake, sweets and cool drinks to the little guests. The hall grew noisier with each passing minute as the kids ate and talked and spilled their food and drink on the floor. Once the kids were done with eating, the housemaid invited them to a game of musical chair. Everyone participated enthusiastically, except Simba. His parents’ absence on his birthday was something he still hadn’t come to terms with.

It was seven-thirty when Simba’s father’s friend, Mr Thomas, arrived. If Simba was eager to know about the present his mom had promised on the phone, he didn’t evince it.

‘Happy Birthday, Kiddo,’ said Mr Thomas.

Simba tried hard not to notice the gift-wrapped item in Mr Thomas’s hands. ‘Thank you,’ said Simba.

‘I am so sorry your parents couldn’t be here. But guess what. They have sent a beautiful gift to you,’ said Mr Thomas, handing over the present to Simba.

His friends gathered around him as Simba slowly unwrapped the present. It was an iPad. ‘But this is my father’s,’ said Simba.

‘Of course, it is,’ said Mr Thomas. ‘But iPad is not the present. Here, let me show you.’ He took the iPad from Simba’s hands, booted the device, and selected an app: iStoryTree.

As ‘The Story of Crab and Crane’ appeared on the screen, a few kids let out a quiet scream. ‘Wow! It’s a real picture book. My dad bought me something similar to this last week,’ said one of them. None of them responded. They were busy watching the story unfold before their eyes.

Mr Thomas gave the iPad to Simba. The birthday boy took the device without a sound and started navigating. Once the narration was over, Mr Thomas guided him to touch the objects in the background. To everyone’s amusement, the objects reacted to the touch: a few birds chirped and flew away, the clouds moved, the crane made a sound, and so did the crab. Followed by that, magic colors entertained them to no end. Almost everyone danced with the iPad as the magic colors magically filled up the black-and-white artworks. For the housemaid and Mr Thomas, watching the kids dance was like watching the little crackers fire up.

It was then time to finger-paint! Mr Thomas showed how to take pictures from the device, import it onto the application and distort the photo in a funny way, using various colors and brushstrokes. The kids had a gala time, laughing and shouting when Mr Thomas used Simba’s photo and drew moustache and beard on it.

‘All right, here’s something you’ll like,’ said Mr Thomas after the finger-painting session.

He went to “recording” and chose a prerecorded voice. Simba’s eyes grew wider and wider as he heard the narration. It was the same story he had heard a few minutes before. But it wasn’t the story that did the magic; it was the voice! Simba looked up at Mr Thomas: ‘Yes, it’s your mother,’ said Mr Thomas, ruffling Simba’s hair.

Simba held the device close to his face and listened to each word carefully. ‘It’s mom!’ he cried ecstatically.

Some of his friends were surprised, too. ‘Cool,’ said one of them.

‘I know this,’ said the boy, who had earlier boasted of having a similar app. ‘It’s there with me, too.’

Simba didn’t hear him, for he was busy listening to his mother: although she wasn’t present in person, the special gift had made her presence felt. Simba didn’t feel alone anymore.

***

One by one, Simba’s friends took leave. Simba held onto his present till ten o’clock. The housemaid had to force him to bed. He reluctantly went to his room. The housemaid switched off the table lamp and left the room, leaving the door ajar. Simba tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come easily. A few minutes later he felt someone at the door. He knew instantly who it was. ‘Come here, Ninja,’ he said, switching on the light.

The Golden Retriever came running towards him and stood by the cot, sticking his tongue out and wagging his tail. Simba put his arms around his neck and kissed him. ‘I’m sorry, I scolded you in the morning,’ he said. Ninja licked his face as the boy giggled: ‘Stop it.’

‘Wait here,’ whispered Simba as he gingerly got off the cot and went to his cupboard. Without making a sound, he opened the cupboard, took out the iPad, and tiptoed back to his bed. ‘Come, sit next to me,’ he called Ninja.

‘See, what my parents got me,’ he said, booting the device. Putting his forefinger on his lips, he said again, ‘But don’t make a sound, OK?’

Ninja blinked his eyes. After showing all the options of the app to Ninja, Simba then chose “recording” and played the narration. Ninja got up with a start. Looking at the app and then at Simba, he looked confused and lost. Not able to contain himself he barked once. Simba giggled as he said, ‘I know, I know. It’s mom,’ he said as he hugged his pet dog.

A simple birthday present with a simple option in it had made his day.

*********