Once I had to travel from Hyderabad to Chennai in connection with a film I was making at the time. Someone very close to me asked me not to go because it was her birthday the next day. Her argument was that her birthday was more important than my work.
I asked her to tell me what was so important about her birth in the first place. I also told her, “I don’t celebrate my birthday despite achieving whatever I have. You have achieved nothing. So, why are you so gung-ho about celebrating your birthday? If you think the mere fact that you are born calls for a celebration, don’t forget that when your parents were making love, the last thing that they had on their minds was that you were being conceived.”
I reasoned some more, “If your father, under temptation had gone to a sex worker that night and you were conceived, you could have landed up in a brothel. You have absolutely no control and no contribution in the process of what, who and why someone gave birth to you. So, why should you make such a big deal about celebrating a birthday?”
Needless to say, she slapped me.
Primarily, the obsession about birthdays stems from the intense fear of an individual that his or her existence might not matter to anyone else.
So at least on that particular day if an X number of people greet the person, it will make him or her feel like a star for those 24 hours. Then the rest of the year goes by and no one cares a damn.
Incidentally, the best birthday greeting I have ever received was in the form of an sms from an unknown number. It said, “Hey Ramu, teri zindagi ka ek aur saal khatam. Marte raho!” (Hey Ramu, one more year has finished from your life. Keep dying!)
I think a greeting for my birthday is an ugly reminder of the fact that I am getting older and closer to death.
Consequently, I have lesser time to do what I want to. If at all one needs to celebrate, it’s one’s achievements and not a mundane fact that there was a birth. I would rather want someone close to me to celebrate the day I convinced a producer to give me a break than the day I was born the way millions of people, animals and insects get born every day.
Frankly, I hope that all who are reading this will cringe the next time someone greets them with a “Happy Birthday.”
Incidentally I broke up with the woman who slapped me. On her last birthday, I messaged her “Happy Birthday.” She did not reply.