Happy Birthday

This is a fictional story. It bears no resemblance with reality.

“Rimi, did you wash the dishes?”
“Sweep the floor quickly, you idle girl!”
“Wash my clothes, Rimi…”

Little Rimi could never say anything against these harsh words. She seldom received soft, sweet words from her family. Her siblings always made fun of her. “You are a white ghost, don’t scare us!” They would say.

Doing all the household chores was not very easy for the eight-year-old girl. Still, she had to do everything except cooking. If she ever committed any mistake, her step mother would beat her brutally with a hard stick. “Her majesty can never do anything right.” Rimi’s stepmother would shout at the top of her voice.

Rimi’s own mother was half German and half Bengali. That beautiful young lady had long, golden hair. She had met with Rimi’s father when he was a university student.

Rimi’s mother died of post pregnancy complications when the baby was just one week old. Her father had to marry his paternal cousin soon, because he was not an expert in babysitting. The baby required proper care immediately.

Salma, Rimi’s stepmother, was nowhere near Rimi’s own mother. Salma was a very short tempered woman. She had very thin, curly hair. Her tiny eyes looked like two black stones in her dark face.

Ever since she stepped into the house as a bride, Salma loathed Rimi. She could not accept her husband’s affection towards the little girl. Even after Jaman and Mila were born, their father used to spend more time with Rimi.

Unlike her stepsiblings, Rimi was calm and quiet. She showed immense interest in art. She loved to draw pictures. She could make lovely baskets with colorful paper bags. Salma never appreciated these crafts: “Grotesque things.” Salma used to comment.
“No, they are nice.” Rimi’s father complimented.

“Someday I’ll fix you, thread- head.” Salma said to herself whenever she saw her stepdaughter. But in front of Rimi’s father, she acted like a loving mother.


When her husband died of a plane crash on his way back from a business trip, Salma began torturing her stepdaughter.

Poor Rimi could never figure out why her family behaved so badly with her. She tried her level best to follow their commands, no matter how tough they turned out to be.

Her stepmother gave her all the food her siblings refused. Rimi’s dresses looked like loincloths. She studied in a very cheap school, whereas, her stepsiblings used to go to an expensive institution in a posh area.

Rimi’s meddling stepsiblings had extremely dark complexion and small eyes, unlike her. Text books never attracted these two ugly ducklings. Instead, they spent hours playing in their room. Jaman loved riding his tricycle and Mila constantly played with her cute candy dolls.

Six-year-old Jaman and five-year-old Mila were like two large fish- bones in Rimi’s throat. They would never let her do anything peacefully. Whenever Rimi sat down on her hand made mat to study, these two would just pop up and start destroying her study materials.

Rimi used to stand on a short stool while washing dishes, because she was not tall enough to reach the sink. Jaman used to crawl into the kitchen like a kitten, careful not to make any sound. Seconds later, he would pull the stool away. As a result, Rimi would come crashing down on the tiled floor. She could not even manage to nurse her wounds. If Salma ever noticed her doing anything other than kitchen works, she would keep showering unbearable taunts on the poor little girl.

“Hey girl, where are you?” stepmother’s rough voice hit into Rimi’s eardrums one day.
“I’m coming.” Rimi replied in a feeble voice. She trudged to the woman, rubbing off the drops of water that dripped from her fingers.
“Listen, today is Mila’s birthday. So clean the house at once. Hear that, you little parasite?”
Rimi nodded, brushing a tear away with the back of her hand. Her long, golden braids ran past her waist. She had inherited her mother’s hair.
“I wish someone would celebrate my birthday too.” Rimi said to herself.

That evening, a deep sigh came out of Rimi’s tiny chest as she noticed mother and daughter preparing for the party.
Salma was putting thick lashings of cream on the delicious chocolate cake. Mila wore a gorgeous black dress. The dining room was nicely decorated with wonderful ribbons and balloons. Some colorful stationary items were placed on the table. Those were gifts for Mila’s friends.

A few minutes later, guests began filling the house. Amongst the guests, there was an amiable young lady. Despite being older than the little girls, she was being just like a child. She was Mila’s class teacher.

The teacher was really good-looking. She had loving black eyes hidden behind rimless glasses. Bright, tanned complexion and that enchanting smile could easily attract anyone.

“I need a domestic helper. Can you fetch me one?” The teacher asked Rimi’s stepmother.
“You can take mine.” Salma had an evil smile on her pale lips. “Good riddance, parasite.” She said to herself.

Actually, the teacher wanted to adopt Rimi. She had heard a lot about the white ghost. But if she said it directly, Salma would never allow her to take the girl. After all, who would prefer to loose such a hardworking, faithful helper?

When the teacher brought her home, Rimi felt like entering a palace. The house was so well furnished and so clean, Rimi thought she could spend ages just by looking at the exquisite architectural creation.

“When’s your birthday, sweetie?” The teacher asked as Rimi followed the kind lady to a little room. Colorful paintings covered the walls. The floor was filled with toys. All the furnishings were painted pearl-white.

“Well, since you arrived here today, let’s just assume today is your birthday. I’ve made all the arrangements, look up.” The teacher told Rimi, pointing at one of the windows.

Lots of balloons hung over the window. One balloon even had Happy Birthday inscribed on it. Rimi was wearing her best dress, a turquoise T-shirt with matching trousers. Her golden braids hung behind her shoulders, flying with the soft breeze. Rimi looked down through the window to catch a glimpse of the magnificent garden. The teacher had placed a nicely wrapped gift on the round, white tea-table for her.

“At last, I’ve found a place I can call home, and I’ve found a person I can call Mom.” Rimi thought, inhaling the aromatic, spring air. A pleasant smile spread across her pink lips.

(Total words: 1087)