As Cyrus Broacha turns 52, he questions birthday parties

Cyrus Broacha wonders if one would celebrate birthdays after a certain age

Thank you. Don’t you think that’s the right thing to do?

The famous Bengali writer Bhaskar Das popularly known as Lu Lu, later on, out of respect more Lu’s were attached to the first Lu, (hence, at the time of his death at age 97, he was LuLuLuLuLuLuLuLu), pointed out in his famous book Bakwaas, that writers, should thank the reader, before the reader actually reads the writer’s work.

To thank a reader after he has done the reading, would be presumptuous, and smack of hubris. So, all future columns, letters to the editor, full-length measurements, most importantly WhatsApps from me, will first begin with the words “Thank” and “You”.

Today’s topic is a delicate one. It concerns a certain birth date. Namely, okay might as well spill the beans, me. That’s right as a per the government of India directive, my birthday must be celebrated on August 7. This is followed by Independence Day on August 15, and not to forget the small matter of Parsee New Year onAugust 16. Or, as my nephew puts it, two wet days interspersed with a dry one.

Now let’s focus on my birthday, which as you probably guessed has always been a social experiment. This year the question that we toyed with (by we, I mean, just me, and the mirror) was do you celebrate a birthday after a certain age?

Bhaskar Das was extremely clear, about this. You do, if you are a country. Or even an institution. Perhaps, also if you are an actress, who is denying the advancing years, by repeating the same age for seven consecutive years. Although after a point, the actress herself becomes an institution, and hence is in any case exempt from non-celebrations, as per the above mentioned, but highly confusing law in the first place.

In my case, the birthday celebration has evolved a lot from 45 years ago, where chutney sandwiches, and orange squash was served, and adult women, and occasionally adult men, pulled my cheeks. I can tell you that now, I hate chutney sandwiches. Diabetes has put an end to orange squash, and if any adult person pulls my cheek, I promise to sit on that person for the next 45 minutes. So, then I decided, I needed worse sense to prevail.