Do you remember the birthday parties when there used to be only the solitary cake to be had! (The one-cake-per-birthday used to be as reliable a rule of thumb as any.) Today, there could easily be four or five! For some reason people fail to realize that there is only so much cake anybody can eat on any one occasion. The result is that despite so many cakes and the ever-increasing hype associated with these events, they invariably leave everybody with a sense of disillusionment deep down– or of anticlimax at any rate – although most of us have perfected the fine art of maintaining the façade of having an absolute ball.
Up until as recently as the turn of the millennium, birthday festivities used to take place in the afternoon or the evening of the relevant day. They are still scheduled in those time slots but only their second instalment. The first one now takes place at the stroke of the preceding midnight, which, in all fairness, does technically make it the birthday. But it is precisely this sort of gimmickry that has taken so much away from the spontaneity of birthdays. This midnight thing must have started off as a curiosity or a novelty. There was apparently a phase in human evolution when it used to be cool to appear informed enough to know the precise time at which the date changed. While that time has long gone (and thank God for that), the exercise has acquired almost a mandatory status in many circles. Failing to show one’s love for the birthday boy or girl by arranging a cake (yet another cake!) or even forgetting to wish the loved one a happy birthday at that ungodly hour could have some very unpleasant consequences.
Human beings are known to frequently forget that it is never a great idea to go over the top in anything. In celebrations it is especially inadvisable because it smacks too much of self-absorption and self-centeredness. And come to think of it, a birthday is hardly an accomplishment worth commemorating anyway. For anybody who happens to be born (zero contribution from him in the whole process) gets to have one. A birthday then is no accomplishment; at any rate, none until it is the 80th.
Still, human beings are not robots, and therefore they can be forgiven to occasionally indulge their impulses and fancies, however silly. But these must not be made too much of a spectacle because sooner rather than later that ends up as a benchmark by which all subsequent events are judged (or perceived to be judged). The obligation to outdo or at least conform to the minimum standard that passes muster brings immense pressure of its own. What were supposed to be occasions for spontaneous fun thus become events where one is obligated to have a great time. One would expect the so-called rational animal to behave a bit more rationally. Unfortunately, a rather embarrassing characteristic of human beings happens to be their uncanny resemblance to apes when it comes to mindlessly imitating others.
Recalling again the birthday events of the past, there were few photographs taken, if any. It was a far cry from the fiasco that takes place on such occasions now. The problem with photographs is that they are usually taken with a view to share them on the social media to show everybody how great a time one is having. Hence all the posing, reposing and retaking until they are just right. One would hardly fuss so much over photographs if one were genuinely enjoying the moment. Digital cameras have a way of encouraging people to live in the future. Or in the past – anywhere except in the present moment.
While in every other conceivable respect, birthday parties have become much more extravagant affairs compared to what they used to be, the cone hats have seen a marked decline in popularity. This may appear to the casual observer as something against the general trend. But for the objective and thoughtful observer, the unpopularity of cone hats could not be any more fitting. The modern man probably takes himself far too seriously to be willing to don clown headgear. The joker who starts suffering from delusions of adequacy and respectability hardly needs clown wear to make his identity known, does he? How many thoughtful observers are left to objectively observe such phenomena though?
One fondly remembers the simpler times when birthday gatherings were still parties, and nobody knew what a birthday bash was. The menu consisted mostly of home-made, or at least partially home-made items: home-cooked lunch/dinner, tea, egg-sandwiches, pakoras, kababs, and namak paray (by the way, where have they disappeared?). There was just the one cake, but it invariably tasted wonderful. The same can rarely be said about any of the multiple cakes on offer now.
While in every other conceivable respect, birthday parties have become much more extravagant affairs compared to what they used to be, the cone hats have seen a marked decline in popularity. This may appear to the casual observer as something against the general trend. But for the objective and thoughtful observer, the unpopularity of cone hats could not be any more fitting. The modern man probably takes himself far too seriously to be willing to don clown headgear. The joker who starts suffering from delusions of adequacy and respectability hardly needs clown wear to make his identity known, does he? How many thoughtful observers are left to objectively observe such phenomena though?
