The earth was peaceful. And so was my life. Until... Armageddon happened, destroying what was turning out to be a Saturday filled with peace and calm. My uncle from the states had made a surprising call to my father with an even more surprising request. Now what was it? you ask, that has sent me into enough of a shock to write a whole ass article about it? THE TRAUMA KIDS, THE TRAUMA.
Apparently, his daughter was going to turn 16 soon and they were throwing a surprise party for her. They wanted all her well-wishers to send a video message with their birthday wishes and blessings to surprise her. Mind you, this was a girl I had never even thought of for the past 25 years (pretty much the entire time I've been alive) much less wished her well. Her whole family emigrated to the states when she was born, and no one has heard from them since. The only reason I know her name is because my father, in the throes of filial piety, every few months, gives me and my brother lectures about how we should talk more to our cousins and be friends with them because we share the same ancestors. Now, it's not like I think sending cute birthday wishes is cringe, I LOVE CRING, I AM CRINGE ITSELF, but what I can't take is her watching all those videos of everyone on her birthday and then wondering who this random uncle and aunty in the middle of it are. This is a legitimate fear I have because I genuinely don't think she has any idea who we are.
And my parents being the enthu cutlets that they are, were fully on board with this idea, exclaiming about how sweet this whole surprise was and deciding that they were going to send her the cutest video birthday wishes ever and that we were going to do it together as a family. Immediately my mother became chaos itself. what were we going to wear? who and all were going to see the video? should we wear jeans to fit in fit the foreigner's or stick to a traditional saree? where is the best lighting in the house? what Jewlery would look tacky? Someone would think Mani Ratnam has come into our house to direct the one and only Aishwarya rai--my mom. And there I was in the midst of it all bemoaning the loss of my mid-morning nap.
The attires of all three of us as we stood at the balcony recording the video pretty much summed up our attitudes towards the whole thing. My mother in a fucking saree, my dad wearing a good T-shirt but lungi in the bottom (cuz who is gonna see that anyway) and me in a kuthi without a bra and my hair wet from a head bath, directing them this way and that trying to fit all of us into the frame. After much discussion we had decided to shout, 'Happy birthday Hamsika' and wrap up the video neatly. Now you would think, well, that's just one sentence, might take maybe 1 minute at most to record the video and send it on its way to America, but no, not in my family.
As I pressed record on the phone, all three of us at different pitches, voice levels and without a shred of synchronization screamed the words together like banshees come out of the wild. And I have no idea why my dad decided to give a thumb up and grin like a maniac as he said happy birthday. I also saw crows flying away, desperate to get away from the terrible noise we made.
So, 1st attempt was a flop. We decided, like good little perfectionists that we were, to practice and then record the video properly. So, the next 2 minutes were spent roaming around the house, loudly chanting the mantra of 'Happy birthday Hamsika' continuously with such fervent dedication, like we were devotees at some cult and the leader was going to come down and bless us soon for our devotion. Really did take me back to my school bhajan days. We decided to tone down the energy a little and look less like kids on a sugar high and more like a lofty royal and calmly, with much dignity wish a composed happy birthday to my cousin. Take Two? We looked like we were about to be sent to the gulags if we did not wish her a happy birthday.
After about half an hour, we finally found the perfect shot and I felt the bubble of freedom in my chest expand. But heyyyyy hang on, just like a person asks who Sita is after hearing the whole Ramayana, my father as we are wrapping up the shoot gets this spark of brilliance-- 'But we are supposed to mention -'Happy 16th birthday Hamsika' not 'Happy birthday Hamsika''. I try to explain to my dad, no one would care whether we mention the 16th birthday, literally no one, but somehow my dad decides that this is the hill he wants to die on and does not relent. He absolutely wants the amendment to be included in the video and just like that my bubble bursts.
I have, I realize about halfway into the shoot, said my cousin's name more times today that I have said the name of God my entire life. There are about 20 videos of us wishing her birthday with about 20 different angles, lighting and shadows. There is a heated debate going on right now about which video to send, because in some of them my mom looks fat, in some of them my dad looks puffy and in some of them I look like I haven't bathed. With the effort it has taken for me to film this video, I better hear about her shedding a tear and falling to her knees at how touched she was because of our message.
But because I am a fucking bitch and misery always loves company, I innocently ask my family--'Well my uncle said he wanted our whole family to do it, shouldn't we ask my brother to send a video as well?'
And I grin, like Satan reincarnated as I watch as my parents faces contort with horror and watch the chaos begin anew.
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