If you ask any young parent what they dread the most about planning their child's birthday, there'd be only one answer: Planning and buying return gifts, notes Divya Nair.
Trust me. If you ask any young parent what they dread the most about planning their child's birthday, there would be only one common answer: Planning and buying return gifts.
We dont know who started the trend, but the WesterniSation of birthdays isn't going down too well with Indian parents. For the past seven years, we succumbed to the trend too.
We are guilty of planning both elaborate and intimate birthdays with friends and family. We are guilty of buying and exchanging expensive and inexpensive toys and clothes for the kids who attend our son's birthday.
We get it. Kids love the excitement of tearing through those cute, glittery wrappers. If it's a toy he likes, my son Kiaan's face lights up like a Christmas tree. If it's a tiffin box or a branded pair of clothes or something more utilitarian, he'd sigh and murmur a forced Thank you.
I remember gifting books to his cousins. Surprisingly, very few of them have a habit of reading.
Every year, I feel sorry for the person who may or may not have taken the effort to buy, choose or pack the gift for my son.
Maybe they hoped it is best for him. Yes, my son loves his action figures, he loves football and chess. But at the end of the day, what do I do with 6 footballs, 3 chess sets and countless Avengers figurines that he doesn't even have time to play with?
The worse part? Some of these toys are never used, while some gifts end up being repacked as a last-minute resort for another kid who you have no idea what to buy/gift.
I know parents who save and repurpose expensive gifts without letting their child know.
It's like the soanpapdi and dry fruit boxes you receive every Diwali that you cannot say no to.
As for the smaller collectibles, what is the use of accumulating so many plastic toys?
So this year, my husband and I honestly asked our son what he wanted for his birthday.
We thought he'd mention some expensive toy, a new pack of Pokemon cards...
But he said, "I want to watch a nice 3D movie with popcorn (given that popcorn is more expensive than a movie ticket) and play with my friends."
Who do you really want to play with? Kiaan initially came up with 4-5 names including his school and building friends... the list rounded off to 7 names.
What about cousins? I asked him, wanting to know his opinion.
"If you want, we can invite..."
I told him, "It's your birthday. So you get to decide what you want to do and we'll let you know if that is possible."
And then I gently explained to him how he had received so many gifts (a pair of boxing gloves, two plastic chess sets, 4 bags of Doms stationery kit, 2 huge fancy boxes of colouring supplies and so many more repetitive stationery supplies) from his last two birthdays that are simply gathering dust.
Given that my son has more friends and family than he can handle, our house has turned into a mini stationery cum toy store of sorts.
Kiaan quickly understood what I was trying to tell him. "So no gifts, right? We will tell them (friends) don't bring any gift."
My husband and I looked at each other for approval. "No return gifts too," we added.
"Okay," my son immediately agreed.
"But we'll cut a cake right?" he wanted to be sure.
"Yes, it will be a regular cake. There will be no theme or fondant. But you get to choose the flavour," I said.
Since my son's birthday fell on a Monday, over the weekend, I took him to watch How to Train Your Dragon, which he thoroughly enjoyed with his generous tub of cheese and caramel popcorn.
I thought about my father-in-law who looks forward to his grandson's birthday as an excuse for an elaborate dinner party with our extended family.
Hours later, he would also complain about these endless gifts that eat up space in our humble 1BHK.
This year, my parents-in-law were curious why there was no taam-jhaam. There was no midnight cake cutting, no Canva-invites, no pre-birthday jitters either.
On the day of his birthday, our son quietly took his grandparents' blessings and went to his school wearing his new clothes.
I packed his favourite snack -- heart-shaped Sabudana Vada and ghee-pepper roasted makhana -- for school.
Since my husband was working, I chose to take the day off.
I dropped him at the bus stop and saw him happily distribute chocolates to his friends in the bus.
He saved some for his teachers and close buddies (Fortunately, the school doesn't allow children to distribute chocolates or gifts on their birthday).
When I picked him up at 2, he was happy to see me at the bus stop. "You didn't go to office today? Papa said he will take half day."
He had one more condition: "Please don't tell me to sleep today. No studies too," he pleaded.
I'd made his favourite lunch combo -- hot ghee rice and dal with papad and pickle. Post lunch, we read a few pages of the illustrated Mahabharata, his latest obsession, and played a few rounds of Uno, while arguing about the silly house rules.
In the evening, we visited the Ayyappa temple. My husband joined us and together, we sought blessings for our son.
On our way home, we ordered a 1.5 kg chocolate cake, along with cheese and peri peri wafers, cheese balls, and tetra packs of fruit juice. My brother had sent a cake too.
Around 8 pm, my son started calling his friends in the building.
"Aaj 8.30 ke baad mere ghar me aana. No gifts, please," he said.
"Aaj tera birthday hai? Happy birthday yaar!" his best friend wished him.
"Mereko bhool gaya kya? Invite bhi nahi kiya ye saal,' his former neighbour joined.
"Arre but gift lene ko time nahi hai," his best friend said.
"Gift nahi chahiye, tu ghar aaja. Sirf cake cutting hai," Kiaan reminded them.
At 8.30 pm, the kids started coming home. "Aunty humne gift nahi laaya," Pappu, who is the same age as my son, complained, showing her empty hands.
"Gift nahi chahiye. Aaj sirf enjoy karna hai," my husband and I welcomed her.
A few of them still got him chocolates because the parents didn't want to send them to a birthday party empty handed.
We told them these will be distributed among them equally. And like we had requested, there were no toys or gifts.
At 9.15 pm, Kiaan blew the candles and cut his 8th birthday cake, surrounded by 13 noisy kids, his grandparents and our siblings who joined us over a video call.
All the kids sat down on the carpet, and chatted over chips and cake, without having to fuss about anything else.
An hour later, when the kids left our home, the carpet was messy; the cake was almost finished, and my in-laws weren't too happy (they still missed the family get-together ritual), but my son was content.
My father-in-law asked him, "Birthday ho gaya. Party kidhar hai?"
"Yehi toh birthday party hai. Cake aur chips! Yummy," he replied.
The innocent twinkle in his eyes was a gentle reminder that this is all it takes to keep your children happy.
Yes, they love gifts but the joy of spending their birthday with their friends is a feeling no gift wrap can cover.
After we had done replying to every text and voice message he had received on his birthday, I asked him.
"How did you like your 8th birthday. Are you happy?"
"Yes, it was fun. But it's only 10.55 pm. My birthday is not over yet," he winked mischievously. As we cuddled and slept, I knew his heart was full, because he was laughing and had so much to talk about.
Feature Presentation: Rajesh Alva/Rediff
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