The first birthday party of our memories was probably the one when we were four or five years old. There were just two, or maybe three families present, with children of different ages, all of whom we played with almost daily. There was home-made ice cream by the bucket, freshly baked cake from mom's oven and sundry other snacks to delight a young person's heart. The games we played then became our eternal favourites, not because they were so wonderful but because they evoked that feeling of perfect happiness that came with that first party. Pin the tail on the donkey, pass the parcel, musical chairs with adults as well as kids participating — it was perfect. That harmony between friends and families persisted into adulthood for all of us.
For decades, birthday parties and other celebrations retained that flavour. A few friends, impromptu games, handmade decorations, savouries and sweets.
Then slowly, things began to change. Mum thought we'd had enough of her patties and pies and cake and sandwiches and we needed to give our friends something different. One birthday, a ‘professional' walked into our home. He mass-produced squiggly jalebis, melting-in-the-mouth gulab jamuns (Indian sweetmeats), and other things that mum didn't know how to make. And dad, who had masterminded the party games until then, decided that he needed serious help there too. No more card tricks and simple sleight of hand posing as magic. A snake charmer was called in and the small group of friends watched in awe at a safe distance as he played the ‘bean' and the cobra swayed.
Everything was so different, so unlike what we were used to, and it stood out in our simple lives until then. Luckily for our sense of comfort, we didn't go entirely ‘professional'. We blew up and hung balloons in bright bunches, cut and intertwined streamers randomly around the room as we always had, and we didn't go overboard with prizes for the games. A simple set of marbles, an extra-long pencil with a ‘scratcher' attached — those were enough to thrill our friends and us.
Somewhere between that first partially ‘professional' party and the ones that we gave for our children when they were growing up, things blew all out of proportion. As parents, we learned that everyone who attended birthday parties had to be given a handsome gift — crayons and lollipops were no longer coveted, as they had been in our childhood. More thought and naturally more money had to go into invitations, theme menus, games and gifts. And no matter how original we were, there was always something more creative, more colourful, more extravagant, to live up to within the circle of friends. But all that was somehow manageable despite the occasional professional touches of a hired clown or magician because it retained the flavour of home.
Today, parties of all types — from the very first birthday to Diwali and Halloween and graduation — see event planners taking over the home or hiring a cafe or club as the venue. Readymade decorations are brought in, rounds of hard fought, competitive games with expensive prizes are arranged, and parents remain on the sidelines, if they attend at all. The feeling of carefree and casual celebration has been replaced by professionalism. The fun of blowing up balloons all day, running hither and thither as icing and cakes are tasted, the packing of little parcels to give friends — all that is done by strangers.
One can't help but wonder whether they have more fun than we do or whether it is just a job for them — in which case, is anyone's heart really in it?
Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.
