Two89

I was recently promoted. 37 notifications on Slack (a messaging app). All with the same message, “Congratulations!” except for one, my boss. He said, “Congratulations Khavi! …now you can share the news with your family and friends.” I replied with a thanks followed by a smiley. During the rest of the day, work, colleagues, and lunch with them, all of it was same as the day before. Nothing felt different. It was the first promotion of my life, but I could not understand why it felt so empty. Was it because I was promised but denied the promotion last year since office policy had suddenly changed (as per my boss only)? Or, was it because a dozen other colleagues were also promoted? I couldn ’t follow the orders and share the news with family. Days went by and I found what had changed in my life. It was the number of expectations my boss had in terms of work delivered. It’s obvious but it certainly was not a reason for celebration. And that’s probably why I informed my family about the pr...

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to dear …” Your birthday is supposed to be happy. You were born, people celebrate you, so naturally you should feel joy. Shouldn’t you? If not, then what is this “happy” in the “happy birthday” song? Let’s go to the very beginning to find the answer. Hours before your birth, your mother was in pain. Extreme pain. The closer your birthday came, the worse it got. Was she “happy” during all this? When you were born, you were crying. They surely weren’t tears of joy. You were crying due to fear and confusion. For years, you kept crying: at school, losing teeth, losing toys, failing to meet expectations, navigating puberty, heartbreak, illness, the weight of fitting in, and what not. Yet we call it a “happy birthday.” Fast forward a few more years and there is another first cry! Now you are the parent holding a baby in your hands. And she keeps crying just like you did when you were born. And you can’t pr...