A Dated Memory – On Remembering Birthdates
Today is the birthday of my first online friend. We met in 2009 through the Xtramarks website and soon became friends through the Chat feature. Later, we moved on to Yahoo Messenger. He was from Ahmedabad. After a few days of chatting, he shared his picture with me and requested that I share mine. I informed my mother about this who read through our chats and analyzed that the boy was genuine in his interactions. I shared my photo with him. And soon we exchanged mobile numbers too. Parents’ mobile numbers, I mean. We both were just 15. So whenever we called each other, our parents joined us and talked to each other. His mother used to address my mother as Bhabhi. It was a beautiful little phase of friendship. As life moved on, we moved on too.
As with many friendships, this friendship too reached the drifting away stage. I believe that we should accept this drifting away stage as a part and parcel of every friendship. It might happen at any time unless the friendship has been a closely-knit one or you have common interests that enable you to keep in touch throughout. Coming back to this online friend, we don’t talk anymore, though we follow each other on Instagram. He has 0 posts on his profile and he sometimes sees my Story updates. Besides this, there is no communication between us. Neither of us took the initiative to keep the friendship burning alive. It withered, as we made new friends, embraced new beginnings, and carved new paths for ourselves.
But one thing has stuck with me ever since. His birthdate.
Every year, the date would arrive, I would remember that it is his birthday, and I would give it a pass. I don’t know if he remembers my birthday. Maybe, it’s just me. Maybe I’m bound to remember everyone’s birthdates, regardless of their relationship with me. But why though? I don’t have an answer to that. This remembrance of birthdates has been a boon, a curse, and a good-for-nothing skill of mine.
There are birthdates I wish to forget, but I just cannot. When those dates arrive, a sickening emptiness would creep over me, as my heart would get flooded with bittersweet memories. What an irony to feel the emptiness while something gets filled up! Come April 8th, my lost best friend’s face would keep flashing in my mind. Every memory would get replayed as if a film reel was constantly running in my brain. I would remember the tiny details. Like, how her sweaty palms smudged the ink on the paper in which she was writing. How her mother’s special bread chaat with mint chutney and masala macaroni tasted. How her face glowed when I told her I was addicted to the underrated song she introduced me to.
Oh, the bittersweetness of it all! April 8th will always be etched with her memories, while I go about having no idea of where she is now.
Every month has me remembering random birthdates that are of no relevance to me. I would wake up, remember that it is so-and-so’s birthday, revel in a memory or two of that person, and then I would go about my daily life. I would never wish them, because yeah, we are no longer in touch. We have watered down to being just another follower in our social media profiles. Another ghost, nothing else. I did wish a few of them, just because I remembered and I didn’t know what to do with that remembrance. I didn’t know where to put it. So, I wished them, so that I could get it out of my head. Some of them wished me back on my birthday, just out of courtesy. The cycle repeated every year.
This year, I remembered their birthdates, but I just didn’t make the effort to craft a wish. By then, I knew how to handle my remembrance. I let it go. Inhale, exhale. And voila! They did not wish me back. So, it was kind of equal-equal. I would still remember their birthdates, year after year, but I’d just smile and go about my chores.
Meanwhile, there are other birthdates, where I would just remember them and then discard them from my brain immediately because they simply can’t take up storage space. Those people don’t even know if I exist or not. Then, why should their birthdates pop into my mind? Well, as I already mentioned, this remembrance is a good-for-nothing skill too.
And hey, there are people with whom I’m still strongly bonded, even though we might not talk for months together. This is where the remembrance turns into a boon. I wish them and we would begin chatting, picking up from where we left off. Those are the moments I live for. Those are the people that deserve my heartfelt wishes, year after year. And those are the people who earnestly remember my birthday too. Well, a couple of them are exempted from it, because they are just forgetful and they turn profusely apologetic when they view my Status or something. Not everyone is good at remembering dates and I definitely make peace with it.
This doesn’t end with the birthdates I have known throughout my life. If somebody on the street mentioned their birthdate, it would immediately get registered in my brain. Yeah, irrelevant, but what can I do? This is the skill that got one of my colleagues from the HR department to start a three-member Birthday Celebration Committee because even if he forgets someone’s birthday, I would remember it. I have already told him once that whenever I see people, I imagine a speech balloon above their heads with their birthdates (after they let me know them).
Now that I realise, it’s not just birthdates, I seem to remember other dates too. Significant and insignificant ones. The dates I met some people, the dates some people left, the dates my heart broke, the dates I tumbled into desperation, and the dates I felt blissfully happy. What should I term this memory skill? Numerical memory? Does something like that exist? Maybe these dates are just mnemonics for me to have good memory power. I wish someone researches into people who remember dates precisely. Maybe coin a term for us.
Well, December is replete with birthdays. And I’m kind of glad that I’d wake up remembering, reminiscing, and then gently drifting back to a busy life’s callings.
Love,
Kavya Janani. U
