Birthday

Yesterday he went to sleep early. He had come home at 9 o’clock - three hours later than the usual time, and he was very tired. As he entered his home, he changed his clothes, had his supper, and went to bed. Next day was Sunday, at last. He would have a day off and sleep as long as he wanted to, but this weekend he was not fortunate. On the previous Sunday, he had to get up early, too, and fetch a master to fix the kitchen-range. This weekend he had to prepare for a very important occasion.
At night, he suddenly opened his eyes and felt like he had been awake all night. He remained absent-minded for some time, and when he came to himself, he turned his face to the clock hanging on the wall. At first, he could not make out the hands, but later he saw the dark spot on the figure three. It was five past three. “How early I awoke!” he thought and pulled his blanket over his head.
It had not been even a minute when he opened his eyes again. The dream which he had was worrying him and not letting him sleep. He tried to collect his thoughts: mounting a cliff, falling off the rock he stood on, and rolling down to a dark valley whose bottom could not be seen. Everything seemed strange to him. Were all of these signs of something or a warning of danger?
Now, he was ruminating on his sleep and seeking its meaning like a fortune-teller. Being exasperated by it, he got up and went to the drawing room. The light was not switched off. “They might have forgotten to turn it off”, he thought and went to the balcony.
It was impossible to see the entire city because of the buildings constructed on the plane in micro-district*. Seeing the same tedious view of micro-district buildings around him each time was making him nervous. What should he do? He could only buy this apartment with the little money inherited from his late father. He tried to find a satisfactory apartment near the city center, but it was impossible to do so with the amount of money he had.
He took a deep breath after closing his eyes. Then he thought about something and went back to the bedroom. Instead of lying on the bed, he put on his suit that he wore when he went out.
“What are you doing?” asked his sleepy wife without opening her eyes.
“Going out. I want to have some fresh air,” he continued, taking the keys of car. “I feel bored at home.”
“What are you saying? Look at the time,” she said, opening her eyes.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”
It was cool outside. The calm wind of fall was shaking the low trees and blowing their leaves in the air. Sometimes, the wind became stronger and shook the windowpanes of the buildings. The moon in the sky looked so near to the earth, as if it was going to fall down. Despite this view of the moon, it was dark. Not a single light was switched on in the buildings to illuminate the courtyard. This yard surrounded by five-storied buildings was under the cover of darkness.
He had not seen anybody yet. Only when he passed near the auto-park did he see the watchmen in their sentry box on the glass veranda and greeted them by nodding his head. He knew them as he always parked his car in this auto-park. Yesterday, since he had come home late, he put his car in front of the building.
He was a bit embarrassed when he saw the watchmen and reproached himself for coming out at night.
“They might think that I had a fight at home.” he said to himself. “Who would come out to have a walk at this time? “.
Although he did not want to, he decided to go home.
While passing his car, he paused, turned his face towards the car and thought about something. Then he suddenly approached the car and opened it. He wanted to drive it as he held the wheel, but a mystic power prevented him from doing so. He stared at the garden through the windscreen, and then as he lifted his head, he saw his eyes in the rearview mirror.
He had become old. Although he was only 30, the wrinkles on his face made him look older. His hair was touched with gray, and small wrinkles appeared both on his forehead and cheeks. These wrinkles were striking when he smiled and made him look like a tired traveler on a long journey. These changes appeared on him after the death of his father.
Diverting his face from the windscreen he looked at his car. It had also become old. He put his hand on the side seat and felt something touching his fingers. At first, he did not know what it was, but then he remembered this black spot made when his friend, Seymour, burned it with his cigarette.
He wondered how long it was since he had contacted Seymour the last time. It was hard for him to answer, because this had happened five or six years ago.
He drove his car to the center of the city. It had been a long time since he saw his acquaintances and friends.
He was driving at a slow speed and turned his face left and right looking at the old buildings of the twentieth century. The magnificence and splendor of these buildings seemed to have been left behind in an earlier time. Due to their appearance, they resembled a sorrowful, tired, old man. When a car passed near them at a high speed, their stones shook like this man’s bones. These buildings were waiting for the day when they would be demolished; in their places new multi-storied buildings would be constructed.
Having noticed this separation, he watched these buildings whose upper floors could not be seen like, the top of a mountain hidden from view by clouds. Suddenly, he saw a familiar structure and pulled the car over to the side of the road to stare at the building, his old friend.
This house united his childhood and youth. All of his recollections had a relation with the apartment located on the third floor of this house, where he lived with his family until the age of twenty-two. He grew up here. He opened and closed its door when he went to school and the university for the first time.
Once, a banquet had been held in this apartment. All his relatives and friends came to wish his father and bless the newborn baby who was so small and had black eyes. This baby looked ironically at this banquet with his goggled eyes, as if he foresaw the indifferences they would show in future.
Now, it was thirty years since that day. Today was the jubilee day of his life that started with happiness and continued with misfortune.
Birthdays were always important days for him, as there was only one day all for him every year. Of course, it is not that he was getting older on this day. A birthday is one of those days when a person forgets all his problems and wants to think of only himself. For him, life seemed to be boring and dispensable like a useless thing. The events that happened lately aroused pessimistic thoughts in him, causing him not to believe in the future. There still were two people cheering up this body heavy with fatigue, his daughter and wife, whose sincerity he believed and whose friendship he trusted.
While driving his car, he remembered his past days and wanted to recollect when he met his friends the last time.
“When did Seymour call up me last? Yes, I remember it, it was in the winter, raining. He told me he wanted to visit us with his family and brought a gift when he had come. No, it was not winter. Why would they have unexpectedly come to us in winter? Why with a gift?” Putting his hand on his forehead he thought, “When do people bring gifts?”
He remembered his birthday party held five years ago. Adalat had come late. Then his father called and wished him well. This celebration was attended by most of his friends with whom he spent his youth.
Ten days before that celebration, his daughter was born, and many people came to see her. They had a nice time, remembered past days and promised to increase the number of the parties like that day’s. However, these people disappeared again, except on birthdays.
He pulled over to the side of the road and got out. All of the shops were closed and the city seemed to be deserted. Although it was getting clearer, this city that had always been lit and full of people, now at night was in a deep sleep.
He looked for an open shop, because he was to buy alcoholic drinks and fruit juice for today’s birthday party. He already bought the food in the afternoon, but as he did not have enough money he decided to buy beverages later.
While he was walking in the streets with hands in the pockets of his trousers he imagined today’s birthday party: relatives and friends would come, some will call. Unlike past years, the wishes to be pronounced today would be colder and more affected.
To tell the truth, he knew who would wish him well, today. Sometimes, although, all relations are broken off between people they cannot stand not talking to each other on such important days. At all events, his father helped and supported them, but according to the new century or modern life or the integration of western life, people have become more forgetful. It is a pity that he knew well that a time would come when people he would accept would take out this appearance, too.
He remembered the days he spent with guests and friends, when his father was alive. He was very proud of his father, because he was well respected and kept friendly relations with official holders. He wished his father had not been rich, had not gained an honorable “name”. He wanted his father to have been a man of normal condition and an average “name”, which no one would have envied.
“Who has not been in close contact with us! Sarkhan’s father procurator-general Mais Mammadov, Zaur’s father rector Jahangir Hasanov, Adalat’s father who worked at Central Committee, and his uncle, the director of a factory. Besides, we visited Kislovodsk, Moscow and Kiev each month with them, but now I have become a poor man.”
“Maybe, if my father did not die, everything would be like the past times. Undoubtedly, even more than it was before. But as the Soviet Union disintegrated, father lost all of his money in banks and nothing remained for my sister and me. Being in reduced circumstances, we were to sell our apartment. Look at this world’s matter. Mister Shakhmar Abdullaev was the director of one of the great wine-mills in the country and his son, me - a person with financial difficulties.
His life changed after his father’s death. As he became poor, people he thought were his friends and close persons left him, the majority forgot him forever. Although he was now a worker of a machine-building plant, people mentioned above held good posts and lived their own lives. None of them remembered and gave him a helping hand. He understood it very well and paid no attention to their indifferences.
It was now clear to him: if you have money you have friends, if you do not, you have nothing. He had gotton a favorable conclusion from these results and was pleased with the fact that now he could see the real faces of the people he saw everyday when his father was alive. Of course, there will be some people who will phone, visit and wish him well today, but he knew well that all of these would be lies and falsehoods.

* * *
They had a nice time at the party, remembered past days and even promised to increase the number of parties like today’s. However, after that day, the people disappeared again, except on birthdays.