I’ve turned 49 today. My thoughts for the past day have been something like this… is it really a day for me to celebrate? Or is it one for our parents? Isn’t it that they had a baby, so they should be celebrating? I really feel we need to flip the Happy Birthday script around, and make it congratulatory to our parents. What do you say?
Birthdays are great, especially because they remind us how and where all those years have gone, or how few are probably left. Yet, there are people who celebrate their birthdays as if something great happened on that day, but guess what, and given the state of the human population and its growth, maybe hundreds if not thousands of other people were also born on the same day, so it is really not that unique or special. I’m not one who really thinks much about it, but I do keep it as a marker. 49 and counting. This is Planet Earth, it’s a miracle.
Humanity, if it had started in the laissez-faire manner that we spend our lives today, would have been wiped out in a few generations. There wouldn’t have been many happy birthdays then, but it makes me wonder, what kept us going, from Adam alihsalam to now, it’s been some journey. And a history laden with this species trying to wipe out its own kind, of differing race, colour, creed or custom. We’ve still endured, birthdays are still happy.
I believe, down under, all these birthdays are celebrated by our parents, they only seem to express them in a manner that highlights us as the star of the occasion, but that is not it, they are the producers of the entire show, the directors and the ones who watch and care for the star, ever since they’re born.
Do I feel like a star? I sure did when we were young, oh those wonderful, invite all family back in Karachi at Mubarak Manzil, my grandmothers, 27,000 square foot home. I do recall vividly the monsoon pouring down rain like anything on all my birthdays, and in those lovely moments, having all our aunts and cousins visit, that some of today’s wedding gatherings can seem a bit skimpy.
I’ll be fair, it does feel special on your birthday. Can’t say it doesn’t. The flow of time changes the perspective. All those lovely gifts back in the day made it so special. Toys, books, and so much love. With time and its passing, and the coming of age, birthdays mean much less, and the chapters of life get read, page turning over page.
If it’s your birthday today, it’s mine too. And so has it been since man first stepped on Planet Earth. So many of us have passed away, so many never knew their birthday, but what mattered were their footprints. Those footprints got us here.
Whatever is your age, keep taking those steps, they’ll take us from here, far and afar, to a new world.
50, here I come, by the mercy of our Lord…