It’s that time of the year again – March 13th is literally around the corner. The one time of the year my friends see the Birthdayzilla version of me, strutting around the day like I’m walking on a cloud. My mother dresses up in a new dress all excited for dinner herself. The husband hits his head, because this single day is the most challenging for the sober and inexpressive person that he is. I’m doing countdowns from months and weeks running up to this day, but this year is somehow different. Work is crazy, I almost didn’t realize it was a week to go last Tuesday, till one of my besties pointed it out (see how well they’ve paid attention at orientation programme?). I’ve made the smallest deal possible, told everyone to chill and not hassle much this year round. I don’t know what I want for a birthday gift and I don’t know yet when I will get off work. It’s very different but maybe I’m getting old enough to in some years start saying “It’s just another day in the year”.
But this year more than every other – I’ve been reminiscing how birthdays in childhood used to be. May be we should spend time to remember how the past was, so it doesn’t slip by our mind. I’d be devastated if some day I wake up and cannot remember how those favorite days in my childhood were. And birthdays were right up there in the list.
There were always cakes to be cut – which my dad used to take me to Nilgiris to order. The same Mickey Mouse cake was picked which would get delivered by the evening of the birthday. I don’t know how but Dad always managed to come home by the time the cake had to be cut. For a man who came home at 9 and 10 pm every other day, he never let my birthday slip by - He always made it! He’d have taken me to Commercial street one day before if not sooner but make sure I have something new to wear for my birthday, sometimes at the expense of homework not being done! So we’d all dress up and go somewhere for dinner – there’d be times we’d have some of his work friends or some of his pathetic relatives tag along and I’d lose all attention for that outing, but then he’d say bye to everyone and take us for ice-cream to Richie Rich and life would be good again as we slobbered up on that Gadbad icecream.
After he left, the years Mum and I spent birthdays alone were still special – My friends from college used to make a huge deal of my birthday and indulge me during the day, while in the evening we’d cut a cake and my relatives would visit. Dinners were generally the evening snack indulgences with lots of cake and a sugar high making it hard to sleep and those glances at the clock counting down to how much of the birthday is left. Super low key from the years before, but never unfulfilling or unsatisfying.
Birthdays in the MBA days were super special too – The dirty Geeta bakery cake was bought to smash on our face and hair. At Rs.65 for the ½ kg, it was an amazing hair spa treatment at least! My roommate made the cutest video, sometimes managing to convince Vivek he has a moral duty to contribute as well – I knew they used to fight on the sidelines about this! 
Dinners were organized, my friends would plan the number of bikes and the whole plan and we’d go indulge as much as possible for that night. I'd pray from a few days before that we don't have visiting faculty classes and there's no assignment due. Heck, there was a Brandmaps team submission due but my team let me off.
I don’t vividly remember ever getting something as a birthday gift at home – there wasn’t ever a token saying this is for your birthday. Much like today, the people around me love me enough to put up with my demands and spoil me the whole year through, it isn’t even possible to find something to demand shamelessly any more for that specific day.
I have a Mr. who reminds me more than ever of my dad in terms of how he behaves around my favorite day of the year. The last minute Birthday cake orders which I generally go along for, last minute clothes being bought, that shocking early return from work when otherwise he’s moping around about his evening meetings. I grow older, but more loved and more cared for as every year passes. May be it isn't about an obvious celebration any more, but more about knowing that there's people who'll always remember your special day and hearing from everyone on the same day is enough. Its more about chocolate cake than its ever been - its more about getting away with tantrums but knowing everyone's making an effort to make you smile all day through. And you know what, its more than enough.
