Birthday? Overrated.


Accept it. There is absolutely no reason to celebrate the fact that you were born five years ago, eighteen years ago or even twenty-five years ago.

You get presents. Why? What is the celebration? Oh look I survived for twenty-five years? It’s probably your luck you didn’t get hit by a truck that you’re still revolving around the sun. So, to rephrase it, are we celebrating the fact that we haven’t died yet?

This thing gets even funnier, wait for it. Celebration of birthdays at school. This child dresses up in a pretty dress and distributes chocolates to her classmates in return for the entire class singing the birthday song for her. Distributing chocolates for “Look I survived for ten years now and I’m sharing my happiness with you all”. Why.

But wait, I’m not that heartless. I can spare a child’s happiness (whatever that is) in distributing chocolates to her friends in a pretty dress. Let’s come to teens.

19th birthday. You’re a freshman in a college. You have managed to make two new friends and your so called “friends” from school have totally kicked you into oblivion- they are just WhatsApp contacts now but you probably can’t even see their display picture anymore. It strikes 12 and then the joke starts. You have finished your 18th year and you have turned 19. Big deal. The one close friend you retained from school life wishes you like she wants to say “Thanks for not dying!”. And then the ex-school classmates send a weak, dry, cold “Happy Birthday” with an exclamation mark which does no justice but they think it has put enough enthusiasm in those two words because frankly there is a difference between “Happy Birthday” and a “Happy Birthday!”. But you can’t help not thank them for remembering to put your birth date in their phone calendar and even bothering to actually type it out for you and not miss the exclamation mark. And for girls, they don’t miss putting in a kiss emoji, eight for that matter, as an obligation.

Then you, the birthday person (girl, boy or trans), feeling like a newly-wed, routinely reply with the two famous words (Thank you) in return to the two words (Happy Birthday) and if you wear four masks instead of two it shall become a “Thank you so much!”, the exclamation mark for the emphasis, topped with maybe one of those awfully fake WhatsApp smiley emoji *cringes*.

Then maybe someone puts her status which wishes you on this auspicious day and even manages to fish out a picture of you and her (dated 24th June, 2011 and you probably had a bowl haircut and wore red tees with purple pants) and set it as her profile picture. But then this same person, very routinely, manages to remove both this status and picture as soon as it strikes 12 midnight on the day after your birthday, so in hurry to get rid of both of them as if she was going to die of asphyxiation.

AND if you’re on Facebook, God save you. People you never knew were breeding in your friendlist, will wish you thinking it’s their duty to do so every time Facebook notifies them of someone’s birthday. Very soon, your wall will be filled with wishes- plain, boring, obligatory, interesting, pictures and three-sentenced ones  (for those who tend to be a bit more poetic).

If you’re the type who maintains protocol, you’ll reply to each of those posts.


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