Happy Birthday, Sweet Sixteen
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No, I’m not sixteen but today is my “real” birthday. My "official" birthday, the one on my birth certificate, is in three days time, on the 10th.
I asked my mother why is that the case and she told me that they had to shift my birthday a few days back since they were late in registering my birth and in order to avoid being fined, they reported my birth late. RM 25 was a big sum then. It’s quite common actually. I know of a high school mate whose real birth date was a different year altogether. And of course my buddies Red, Wak Tam and Samek knows of a few who are three or four years older than they really are, don’t we guys? Furthermore, at that time, many more were born at home, delivered by midwives, and not by doctors and nurses in a hospital and I don’t think the midwives were a stickler for dates.
I have heard the story many times. My mother was performing her maghrib prayers and only her mother and aunt were around since all the men were at a big kenduri or “hol” in nearby Rasah. The two old ladies noticed that my mother stood a long time after each “rukuk” and sure enough, she was starting to feel the initial pain, caused by yours truly. She finished her prayers and told the two ladies and of course it caused a panic. My grandmother’s house then was not what it is now, it was surrounded by rubber trees and I guess the midwife’s house was a quite a distance away too. Telephones? Uh, no phones then. No phones now for that matter. So my grandaunt went to the front of the house to see if anyone was available and to my good fortune, a granduncle, one of the few people who owned a car back then, was late on his way to the “hol” and she flagged him down and shanghaied him to summon the midwife to attend to my birth.
My mother was not too sure of the actual date but she told me that it was a few days before the date on the birth certificate. The only thing she remember is that it was on a Thursday. I took at look at one of those hundred year calendars and true enough I was born on a Thursday.
More than a few times when she was telling that story, my younger brother would be around. Now, my younger brother is actually a cousin whom we adopted when he was one week old. So my mother would say, “Oh you were the easiest, no pain at all!!” and he would skip away happily knowing that he didn’t caused any distress to his mother when he came into this world. But that is a different story.
Well, in another three days, I hope Lina, Nazzim and Sofia remembers…. Never mind, Happy Birthday, self…..
.
No, I’m not sixteen but today is my “real” birthday. My "official" birthday, the one on my birth certificate, is in three days time, on the 10th.
I asked my mother why is that the case and she told me that they had to shift my birthday a few days back since they were late in registering my birth and in order to avoid being fined, they reported my birth late. RM 25 was a big sum then. It’s quite common actually. I know of a high school mate whose real birth date was a different year altogether. And of course my buddies Red, Wak Tam and Samek knows of a few who are three or four years older than they really are, don’t we guys? Furthermore, at that time, many more were born at home, delivered by midwives, and not by doctors and nurses in a hospital and I don’t think the midwives were a stickler for dates.
I have heard the story many times. My mother was performing her maghrib prayers and only her mother and aunt were around since all the men were at a big kenduri or “hol” in nearby Rasah. The two old ladies noticed that my mother stood a long time after each “rukuk” and sure enough, she was starting to feel the initial pain, caused by yours truly. She finished her prayers and told the two ladies and of course it caused a panic. My grandmother’s house then was not what it is now, it was surrounded by rubber trees and I guess the midwife’s house was a quite a distance away too. Telephones? Uh, no phones then. No phones now for that matter. So my grandaunt went to the front of the house to see if anyone was available and to my good fortune, a granduncle, one of the few people who owned a car back then, was late on his way to the “hol” and she flagged him down and shanghaied him to summon the midwife to attend to my birth.
My mother was not too sure of the actual date but she told me that it was a few days before the date on the birth certificate. The only thing she remember is that it was on a Thursday. I took at look at one of those hundred year calendars and true enough I was born on a Thursday.
More than a few times when she was telling that story, my younger brother would be around. Now, my younger brother is actually a cousin whom we adopted when he was one week old. So my mother would say, “Oh you were the easiest, no pain at all!!” and he would skip away happily knowing that he didn’t caused any distress to his mother when he came into this world. But that is a different story.
Well, in another three days, I hope Lina, Nazzim and Sofia remembers…. Never mind, Happy Birthday, self…..
.
posted by dudae_simboyo at 10:06
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