Editorial»
My son’s birthday
JAN 16 - My son’s birthday is on Friday. He has been waiting for this day since a very long time. Ever year, a month after his birthday, he asks, “When is my birthday, Daddy?” “You celebrated it just last month, didn’t you, my boy?” I reply a bit annoyed. “You will celebrate it again, next year.” “Next year!” he exclaims impatiently. “Yes, next year!” I retort.
Having parents from a village and having been born in the city of Kathmandu, my son is faced with something of a paradox. I don’t remember my grandfathers and grandmothers celebrating their birthdays, neither have I ever seen my parents counting days to celebrate their birthdays. I doubt whether they remember the exact dates when they came to this cruel world. Even if they remembered the dates, they would rather forget it. The days they were born were damned and doomed. There is nothing to celebrate about their birthdays. After all, all miseries and hardships began after they entered this world stark naked and crying.
Regarding my parents, until today, nothing much has changed for them. The only difference is that they have clothes to cover their shame. After giving birth to seven children and looking after them, they are now old. They were busy and struggled their whole life to feed us. As they were farmers with a only a small piece of land, they had no other choice other than to borrow money from a debtor whenever a member of the family had to be taken to a hospital or when a cattle had to be bought. Marriages of seven children was certainly not an easy task. All this drowned them in debt and desperation. Celebrations at such conditions would probably seem ridiculous.
How about my wife and myself ? We don’t celebrate it wholeheartedly either. Believe it or not, it was not that easy for my beloved spouse to spend twenty rupees to buy a pair of socks from a street vendor. When I got the present for my last birthday, I looked at her quite surprised. She looked ridiculous and I felt absurd. Well, what was all that birthday celebration about? She had cut the budget to buy mustard leaves to buy a present for me! You can imagine how a father feels when his children questions, “Mummy, no mustard leaves today?,” at meal time and she cannot give an affirmative answer. She looked at my socks before she replied, ‘No!’ So we don’t look forward to our birthdays? For us, celebrating birthdays is something alien. Mourning for our birthdays is our way of life.
But why does our son look forward to his birthday so eagerly? He wants to celebrate his birthday like his friends. He also sees birthday celebrations taking place when he is watching TV or films. He wants to cut a cake. So he asks me, “Daddy, are you going to order a cake for my birthday this time?” I look at my socks and pretend not to hear.Posted on: 2004-01-17 04:05
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