The birthday grill

Reflecting on an... interesting birthday gift and on how it became a wake-up call

I turned 26 in the spring of May 2018. 26 felt young and very messy. At the time, I lived in a hip neighbourhood in Paris and had the audacity to have a private garden outside my flat. As custom would have it, my friends and then partner had gathered there to celebrate my birthday. The night was sweet and warm, the rosé flowed continuously, and mirth was jingling in the air around us. It was lovely.

Enter the gift reveal.

As custom would have it, people usually offer gifts on birthdays. I’m not really big on presents because I have a very set idea about what I like. It might sound corny, but I’d much rather share a nice meal or night out with my friends over a physical, material gift.

Anyways, back to that gift. On the day of my 26th birthday, my tight-knit group of friends decided to collectively gift me… a grill. An electric grill, a household appliance for summer barbecues in that cute little garden of mine.

I was stunned. Stunned because apparently, at 26, I gave off the vibe of someone who would fancy an electric grill. There’s technically nothing wrong with an electric grill; it is convenient, practical, and I guess makes sense to own if you have the privilege of accessing a garden in the centre of a bustling city. I don’t want to sound ungrateful (I probably do lol) but, in retrospect, I kind of experienced what I imagine a mother could feel upon unwrapping a vacuum cleaner (unless it’s a Dyson, obviously) or a kettle on Mother’s Day.

The electric grill also begged several other questions. Did I act so unlike myself with these people, who I considered to be my closest friends, to read me so wrong? Or, worse, did I act like somebody so bland and uninteresting, who would desire a grill at 26 years old? So many thoughts rushed through my mind as I scrambled to save face and thank them for their kind intentions.

Jokes aside, 2018 was a turning point for me, and the grill did contribute, albeit in a tiny, comedic way, to the changes I deliberately set in motion that year and that would ripple into the years between then and now. My friend groups have evolved (transformed would be a better word) and I have definitely worked hard on being as authentic as I can, even if it meant losing people along the way.

That grill popped back into my mind because I was trying to trace where I was and what I was doing on my birthday during the last ten years. In Mauritius, or at least in my family, birthdays are a HUGE deal. My mother would routinely wish me happy birthday month, then happy birthday week, in person, then on Facebook when I moved away. While I cannot remember a single gift I received over the years, I do remember that one of my favourite celebrations was my 6th one. The whole family, and some friends, got together at my childhood home back in Mauritius. It was a sega themed night, and we were all dressed in traditional flowery sega outfits. I remember dancing the night away, eating a homemade white and pink cake shaped like a jewellery box, painstakingly fashioned by my nimble uncle.

It is a core and corny memory that combines all the things I long for: the feeling of warmth and belonging, the music, food, and everybody looking happy around me. If I can recreate that feeling every year, I would consider myself to be a very lucky person.

As I step into my thirtieth year, I feel blessed that I get to live a life where I am constantly meeting people with whom I can create meaningful bonds, while nurturing some older relationships that have matured into spaces of mutual growth and expansion.

My aunt shared the below quote with me on my 30th birthday, and I think it pretty much says it all. Here’s to more years of non-linear growth. I’d be damned if I continue living my life looking like I enjoy electric grills on my birthday.

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Tiny update

I haven’t been active here or at The Island Pieces lately because school is kicking my butt, but I do hope I’ll be able to pick up some writing steam soon. So much has happened - devastating elections in France, rising prices in Mauritius, so many things I would like to share and wrap my thoughts around, but I’m also giving myself some space to not feel guilty about not being consistent in my writing.

If for some reason you do want to read more from me, you can check out my short story that was unfortunately not shortlisted for the 2022 Commonwealth Short Story competition: Fe la Mer, a story that takes place in the south-west of Mauritius and centres Lola and her mother Marie-Jeanne, who find themselves caught up in a struggle to protect their coastal town from hawkish South African real estate tycoons. I am happy that I forced myself to go through with this project, and that I got to practice my Mauritian Kreol for the dialogue sections. Writing 5000 words and fleshing a plot in less than three weeks was insane but ultimately so rewarding.

You can also check out the amazing stories written by the talented shortlisted writers here.

I hope this writing hiatus won’t be too long. If it is, those who know me know where to find me.

Until then, please share, in the comments or in my DMs, the worst birthday experience/gift you’ve had. I could use a chuckle!

Stay safe,

S.