Wake up and smell the cake
By Batool Mehdi
IDEA: NADEEM REHMAN MALIK
Birthdays – boon or bane? Either you love them or hate them. You either look forward eagerly to the ‘oh so special’ day in the calendar or dread the very month in which it falls. I personally tend to go for the latter options myself. It’s not so much birthdays themselves, as is the celebration factor that really irks me. Think about it. All that hoopla and hullabaloo associated with a person’s day of birth – and what for exactly? For being born? For turning a year older? Indeed, all we are doing in celebrating our birthdays is patting ourselves on the back for having yet another year gone by – it’s almost like an annual acknowledgment of our ever-decreasing life span.
Yes, I realise this is an awfully depressing, bordering on macabre assessment of a generally much loved tradition. The fact of the matter remains though, that birthdays are a wake up call, and a rude one at that, may I add. They’re merely a reminder of the year gone by – and more often than not, instead of applauding yourself for all that you may have already accomplished, you start over analysing about everything that you haven’t yet achieved.
I used to think I was the only member of the ‘I-hate-birthdays’ anonymous club, until I discovered that there were others out there. Anyone who believes that celebrating birthdays is pointless belongs to this club. What’s to celebrate, we argue. And to add to our misery, we’re made to commemorate the occasion anyways! Thus every year, against our better judgment, we too announce to the world that we’ve done it a tremendous favour by being born, and that all those near and dear to us must rejoice and shower us with presents also, while they’re at it.
Ok, admittedly, that was quite a rant! I must have come off sounding like a bitter, cynical old woman, and I certainly can’t blame you, considering the way I’ve droned on and on. Let me assure you to the contrary though, in particular about the bitter and old part!
I don’t loathe birthdays. If anything, they provide the perfect opportunity for some much needed introspection and to really take stock of what the future holds. I confess that the above outburst can be largely contributed to writer’s block, for which I sincerely apologise! More tellingly though, as many of you may have already guessed, my own birthday very recently passed, just last month. Ironically enough, its not the getting older bit I have a problem with at all. After all, I’m a young, twentysomething, who loves her work and is blessed with a great family and fantastic friends. Why shouldn’t I want to celebrate my birthday, you may well wonder.
I suppose it boils down to the ritualistic significance attached to celebrating birthdays that annoys me more than anything. I’ve never been much of a traditionalist, and I guess birthdays just happens to be one of my pet peeves. Call it a whim or a fancy, but if one should wish to spend a quiet bday with some alone time, is it really that bad? Of course, not that I ever get round to taking that route myself – try as I might, I’ve rarely been able to extricate myself from the celebration madness that my friends and family inevitably pull me into. And lo and behold, there I am, like a once giddy schoolgirl partying away and basking in the glory of it all.
So what exactly was the point of this piece anyways, you ask? Excellent question, because for the life of me I can’t remember either! Chalk it up to a particularly bad Sunday read and feel free to use selective memory loss as far as the article is concerned. That’s certainly what I’ve done – till next year of course, when, make no mistake, I’ll be back, and boring
