Its Getting Old (Goldspot) plays on my laptop while I write this. There is so much truth in that one line:
Its Getting Old, Isn’t It?
I have always loved Birthdays. Not just yours :), and anyone around me, but mine as well. In younger times, Birthdays to me was a very special occasion, when the whole world belongs to you, and it’s a day generally things go your way. Your mom prepares your favorite food in the morning, generally nobody gets angry on you that day, friends celebrate your birthday, and you throw parties and dance, and feel happy about yourself.
Then some years later, some pragmatists reminded me – “Whats so great about Birthdays?! You are getting old dammit!” – but still that didn’t bother me. Birthdays still remained a special day for me; it was the day I could truly claim as my own in this world. One day out of three hundred and sixty five days that belonged to me. It was the day when I felt top of the world, and had a feeling of euphoria, which I cannot express in mere words. In simple words, I am the happiest on my own birthday.
Today is my Birthday. For the first time in my life, I am not happy today. Today, I feel like I am getting old. Its getting old. I don’t want the year 26 of my life to end. I want the year 26 of my life to keep going on and on over and over again. I wish time could freeze this moment, rewind back to last year and start again. No, I don’t feel like letting this year go away.
Today, I rewind back to my most memorable birthdays in the hope that it get me into the mood again, for the 27.
My first memory of Birthday travels back to Bangalore. My mom had told me thence that I was born in the night at 12.20 on 29th of January (Technically 30th of January). I told everybody in my school that my birthday was on 29th and not on 30th. Despite my parent’s argument over 12.20 AM transpiring to next day, I did not given. The end result was, I did celebrate my Birthday in the school on the 29th itself rather on 30th.
Birthday back then used to be filled with innocence. You would come and stand in front of the whole class with bag full of chocolates and candies; eager friends would sing “Happppy Birthdddaay to Youuu, Happppy Birthddaaay to Youuu, Happyyy Birthhhdaaay Dear Suyog, Mayy the good God Blesss you!†After which, you would go about distributing your chocolates and candies neatly amongst students – usually two or three candies per friend, and extra special friends would get more afterwards. Then, I would choose a friend (usually best friend) of my liking and with permission from the teacher would then proceed to “share†my birthday candies with all the teachers in the school. I and my friend would then peep in each classroom to see if we could recognize the teacher inside – if yes, we would kindly object in between, beam with pride in front of the whole class (nay, they weren’t getting candies were they?!), wait for teacher to wish us Happy Birthday, give the teacher a candy or two and repeat the process.
That one class, just that one class, no teacher or principal would ever mind us not sitting through – because it was the birthday. By the time we usually got back to the class, it would almost be over.
I remember my birthday several years later in Pune too, the year in which I stepped into adolescence, the special 13th. Candies and chocolates in schools had taken a back seat this year – after all, we were growing up. This birthday, I celebrated by throwing a party to all my friends, as was the norm in the society I lived in. After cutting the cake, blowing candles, serving chips and cakes, it was the Quiz time! Quizzes and prizes during any birthday were a tradition we Pune-ites followed strictly in our society. Every birthday boy used to have a general knowledge quiz, and each correct answer would get a prize or a gift from the birthday boy.
The only difference being on my birthday being – I made up the quiz so insanely difficult that just three questions were answered by my friends. But I had so many prizes that I had to well… give them anyways. Those were the days too, when a birthday meant that we had to go to a small store, usually stationary, and get some or the other kind of gift for the birthday boy, knowing all too well that a return favor was expected.
Two years later, I was in Ahmedabad. On my fifteenth birthday, I really don’t recall what I did. I have no clue where I was, or how did I celebrate it, but I remember what one my close friends told me that day. He was 5 years older to me, and he remarked – “Three years and you will be an adult. Then your life will changeâ€Â. I don’t know why I remember it till now, but yes, I do remember it. Three years later, life did change.
As you grow up, birthdays also begin to take a different meaning – birthdays are no longer a family event anymore, and instead they turn out to be an event as exclusive as possible from parents. Parents are not welcome in almost-grownup-but-not-grownup people birthday parties. Especially true is the part when people join college fresh out of schools. Then, birthdays become a different concept altogether. Birthday bumps are the norm during these years.
Three years later, on my eighteenth birthday, I was with a group of guys, nearly 20 of them in a restaurant in Hubli. We were all freshers in the college and barely knew each other well. Since nobody had enough money (who does in Hostel), we walked miles to the hotel and back. It was a memorable one.
At that point, any number was an excuse enough to have gala celebration. My nineteenth birthday celebrated my last “teen†year; and my twentieth welcoming from boys to men. “Twenty one†signified the last year of college, and entry into this big bad world.
Beyond that, birthdays ceased to become yet another excuse to have a party and make merry; which is how it was for twenty two, twenty three, twenty four, twenty five, twenty six and twenty seven as well.
Yesterday was the twenty seventh.
I turn twenty seven today. In my post-twenty-pre-thirty years of life, twenty six was irrevocably the best. Perhaps its why I feel a tinge of sadness leaving twenty six behind with no idea twenty seven will turn out to be.
But then I had never known twenty six would turn to be either…