Gods Lonely Man

TUESDAY

Ten minutes before his alarm, Lucky wakes up - 06:20 to be exact. Twenty-four winters ago, he was born. An only child, he had always been. He closes his eyes blissfully and says a quiet prayer, thanking God for allowing him to reach this milestone.

He has no plans to celebrate. He intends to let whatever happens, happen. He is okay with nothing happening at all. Stretch after stretch, he finally reaches his phone on the small dressing table beside his bed. Upon switching it on, to his surprise, he sees countless missed calls and messages from friends and family. He can feel the joy and love being injected into every blood vessel and artery of this newly aged body.

He goes to work, and everyone wishes him a happy birthday. As he leaves the office, the sweet old receptionist says, “You should throw a party.” On the silent drive home, he ponders the idea she suggested. He has never had a birthday party in his life. He has always wondered what it would feel like to have so many people he cared about gathered in one place to celebrate him. It is a feeling he imagines deeply, one that energises and inspires him.

WEDNESDAY

The very next day arrives. Lucky is stuck in his cubicle, stuck at work. Sitting alone as usual and staring at his laptop, he watches the hours crawl by while his boss enters now and then, dropping off more tasks for him to complete. The day is ordinary, but what feels strange is that he is still energised by the receptionist’s words: “Throw a birthday party.” He replays that moment in his mind constantly. It sparked something in him. The idea, and what it represented, felt like it could ignite a fire in his life.

Lucky was used to simple birthdays - the usual phone calls from family, brief messages, and nothing more. He barely had friends in the area, more acquaintances than anything. His real friends, his childhood friends, lived far away. The people around him felt temporary, distant, uncertain, and flaky. He was God’s lonely man.

But this time, he didn’t care. He wanted to feel human. He wanted to feel like someone who belonged to a community.

At lunchtime, while sitting alone on a bench and watching his coworkers laugh, talk, and share stories together with envious eyes, he makes his decision. He will throw a party. As soon as he gets home, he starts sending invitations. He envisions the perfect day- one when everyone would be available—and that train of thought leads him to Saturday. The best day.

Eventually, he designs slick digital invitations on his phone and sends them out that same night. The earlier people know, the better. To his delight, everyone responds joyfully and seems genuinely excited.

“This will be a day to remember,” he thinks.

THURSDAY

He takes leave from work to prepare for the party. That’s how important this is to him. It feels exciting, beautiful. He had always seen people posting birthday party photos on social media, and finally, his turn had come.

The night before, he dreamt about the party. His crush was there, and the dream ended with a birthday kiss. His crush was a woman who worked at the nearby pharmacy. There was something mysterious about her—something he could never quite understand. Maybe it was the subtle thought that whenever I’m sick, she helps me that planted beautiful, strange ideas deep into his neglected subconscious. He had always imagined that one special day, somehow, someway, she would heal his heart too.

The invitation he sent her was slightly different from everyone else’s. It read: Would love to see you there. Feel free to bring your friends 

The purple heart was intentional. Purple was her favourite colour. He thought maybe, somehow, it might telepathically charm her into coming.

Ten minutes later, she replied:

“Thank you for the invite, Lucky. I will definitely be there.”

Lucky spends the rest of the day buying everything he needs. The speaker is the most important purchase. Music matters. He already has the perfect playlist prepared.

FRIDAY

It’s Friday, one day before the big day. Lucky feels lucky. He feels certain it will be a good time. He will make friends. His crush will be there. This feels like the day before New Year’s Eve, a fresh start, a chance at a social life. Maybe this time he can post birthday pictures on social media too. He has 1,827 followers. Surely this will show people he has a life. Maybe after this, people will start inviting him to their birthdays, events, and gatherings. He never gets invited anywhere. He has always felt invisible.

Later, he goes out to buy food and the cake. At the shopping centre, he notices a purple sun hat in the second aisle of some chaotic store. An idea immediately strikes him: a gift for the pharmacy girl. Strange, really-buying someone else a present at your own birthday party. Maybe he is too excited.

He remembers something one of his childhood friends,  a self-proclaimed ladies’ man, once told him when they were younger and foolish: “The way to a girl’s heart is to surprise her. Do something no one else has done for her.”

That old advice becomes the foundation for this move. He convinces himself this is what will open the pearly gates to the pharmacy girl’s heart. When he gets home, he checks his bank balance. Shock. He has spent an alarming amount of money. This party has to work. At this point, it feels less like a celebration and more like an investment—an investment in his social life, in change, in a memory, in a possible butterfly effect in Lucky’s life.

His very first birthday party.

SATURDAY

Everyone cancelled.

Some apologised.

Some simply disappeared.

Even the pharmacy girl said nothing.

Lucky stared at his phone for a long time.

Then placed it face down.

Strangely, the silence did not crush him.

Maybe because silence had always known his name.

Maybe because disappointment from others felt less unfamiliar than hope.

He plated the food.

Poured himself a drink.

Put on Bob Marley.

Sat alone at his first birthday party.

As if this had always been how it was meant to be.