Birthday
Starting out on this blog I was less optimistic. But two posts in a month is not that bad for starters. As I get comfortable with this medium (which essentially means finding interesting topics to post) I am hopeful that I will be more frequent.
Add to that the fellow bloggers who astound me sometimes with their speed and a knack for finding interesting subjects. They are both my envy and inspiration and they know who they are. Keep the posts rolling. However, my greed for comments grows unabated. Any post without comments looks forlorn (I will not go so far as to say orphaned), but that's a bitter fact that needs getting some used to.
Today also happens to be my birthday. Birthdays are tricky days; days that run the danger of you exposing your real self to others. You might just be lured out of your closet. Are you an attention seeker, a bleeding heart, or someone who needs approval to carry on, or a hedonist, or someone coldly dismissive about the idea of fun, or too much of an individualist to value someone else's opinions or anything else. With the spotlight on you, you begin to show your imperfections because you're being indulged. It's the most unconditional form of love when your imperfections are being indulged and celebrated. And thank God we are not spoilt rotten by such excessive adulation.
I like people calling me on my birthday, keeping it short (unless there's something more interesting to talk about) and give me an inspirational talk on the importance of having fun on this day. But then there are also people who emphasise on having fun so emphatically, that having fun seems like a duty or a chore. The best phone calls I receive are not those that are made on my birthday. But the ones made on some latter date by those who've forgotten my birthday. If you have such people as your friends, it shows you are still in sane and human company.
But, I relish making them feel bad for forgetting my birthday. I couldn’t care less but for some reason they seem to be so embarrassed and apologetic that it’s amusing and worth stretching, for sake of petty pleasure. Does my birthday show that I am a sadist?
Sometime, the really smart ones would try out a stunt. “I have always thought your birthday was on 10th June,” they’d say, after wishing me on 10th June with a confidence that puts me in doubt about my birth date.
Personally I feel birthdays are overblown excesses of an adolescent age that we have carried over into our youth. Some people approach and celebrate it with a fervour that is genuinely surprising. There’s a marked increase in their happiness quotient and the “feeling pleased and content with myself look” is rare. Good for them. Well, it takes all sorts and I secretly wish I shared the enthusiasm that they show on their birthdays, when it comes to my own.
What is tasteless is when birthdays become the touchstone of friendships and even relationships. Such people need to be sent to “a house for juvenile delinquents.” Facebook has come to the rescue of those at the receiving end of such obsessing.
Well have a few things planned out this evening and if you have not called me yet, next year or the year after that is just as well.
Add to that the fellow bloggers who astound me sometimes with their speed and a knack for finding interesting subjects. They are both my envy and inspiration and they know who they are. Keep the posts rolling. However, my greed for comments grows unabated. Any post without comments looks forlorn (I will not go so far as to say orphaned), but that's a bitter fact that needs getting some used to.
Today also happens to be my birthday. Birthdays are tricky days; days that run the danger of you exposing your real self to others. You might just be lured out of your closet. Are you an attention seeker, a bleeding heart, or someone who needs approval to carry on, or a hedonist, or someone coldly dismissive about the idea of fun, or too much of an individualist to value someone else's opinions or anything else. With the spotlight on you, you begin to show your imperfections because you're being indulged. It's the most unconditional form of love when your imperfections are being indulged and celebrated. And thank God we are not spoilt rotten by such excessive adulation.
I like people calling me on my birthday, keeping it short (unless there's something more interesting to talk about) and give me an inspirational talk on the importance of having fun on this day. But then there are also people who emphasise on having fun so emphatically, that having fun seems like a duty or a chore. The best phone calls I receive are not those that are made on my birthday. But the ones made on some latter date by those who've forgotten my birthday. If you have such people as your friends, it shows you are still in sane and human company.
But, I relish making them feel bad for forgetting my birthday. I couldn’t care less but for some reason they seem to be so embarrassed and apologetic that it’s amusing and worth stretching, for sake of petty pleasure. Does my birthday show that I am a sadist?
Sometime, the really smart ones would try out a stunt. “I have always thought your birthday was on 10th June,” they’d say, after wishing me on 10th June with a confidence that puts me in doubt about my birth date.
Personally I feel birthdays are overblown excesses of an adolescent age that we have carried over into our youth. Some people approach and celebrate it with a fervour that is genuinely surprising. There’s a marked increase in their happiness quotient and the “feeling pleased and content with myself look” is rare. Good for them. Well, it takes all sorts and I secretly wish I shared the enthusiasm that they show on their birthdays, when it comes to my own.
What is tasteless is when birthdays become the touchstone of friendships and even relationships. Such people need to be sent to “a house for juvenile delinquents.” Facebook has come to the rescue of those at the receiving end of such obsessing.
Well have a few things planned out this evening and if you have not called me yet, next year or the year after that is just as well.
Hey! That was not a stunt! I genuinely got confused. How mean! And see, so many years down the line, you can still make me feel guilty and embarrassed about it. Sigh!
ReplyDeleteYour birthday shows that you are a strange, strange person :p
Happy Birthday Dada....You are a treasure of a friend! I am truly grateful to have a friend like you, you are one of the few people in this world who I can talk to, with complete ease.
ReplyDeleteThat is one good use that Birthdays can be put to, by the way...say things that you feel very often but never really say to those whom you cherish!
Hey you said you are ok with people forgetting your birthday!!
ReplyDeleteThanks all... had been trying to post comments for the past 3 days now and i have succeeded now
ReplyDeleteGhosh... what a wonderful insurance for comments - post on your birthday!
ReplyDeleteIt's not that I'd ever have anything negative to tell you anyway. Oh and btw, if sme people had your email id, or phone number or even access to your facebook profile (which was deactivated), they wouldn't have to go without showering you with praises and best wishes. Ahem ahem - pls take a hint.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! :-) Love and Peace always.
thanks so much for the wishes! i thought people might comment and they did!!! for me comments are more important than b'day wishes, hehe... but i have realised only bloggers leave comments coz they know how it feels to receive one or at times precisely because they want to receive one
ReplyDelete