ডাকবাংলা

There was a time when the most pressing question on the morning of one’s birthday was whether one was going to get simai payesh or the regular chaler payesh. Covid changed that question to: will my surprise party be on Zoom or Google Meets? And what exact surprise/shock performance is in store?

There was time before March 2020, when birthdays were celebrated with that now curious relic called a birthday party. While some of our loved ones were invariably far away on our special day/days, there was always a quorum of friends who would turn up for a slice of cake or a restaurant treat, aka the birthday party. Loved ones in other parts of the world sent a Whatsapp message or called to wish, and that marked their fleeting presence on The Big Day.

The pandemic did two things: It suddenly made friends who lived barely fifteen minutes away inaccessible and with equal suddenness, friends who lived in another time zone stormed back into our invitation list.
The first virtual birthday party I attended was in mid-2020. It happened on an app called Houseparty and there were eight of us, uncombed and in pandemic rags gossiping about those friends who were not part of the call.
Somewhere between June and August of the same year, Houseparty was inadequate, and Zoom became the preferred party platform, as eight people were simply not enough. And that was not the only change. Idle adda was not exciting enough, and the world decided to up the virtual game with some extra bells and whistles. In my personal circle ‘landmark birthdays’ (multiples of 10, particularly 40 and 50) needed more than a pleasant adda.

In India, the watershed moment for Zoom parties was the birthday of a certain Ridhima Sahni, who turned 40 in 2020. Her husband Bharat came up with the plan of getting relatives to dance to ‘Aap Jaisa Koi,’ a song that was the rage in 1980. The video that resulted went viral and inspired many to follow suit. The only hitch was unlike you and me, Riddhima had consistently beautiful and graceful relatives. Ridhima Sahni’s brother is Ranbir Kapoor, her mother is the ageless Neetu Kapoor and her cousins are Kareena Kapoor and Karisma, And Kareena’s husband is Saif Khan. With Ranbir’s girlfriend Alia Bhatt in the mix, the video that resulted, even with Covid, constraints was MTV-ready.

Check it out for you had missed it earlier.

Soon mere mortals started receiving requests, nay, orders to dance to songs and send videos that would be edited to a composite song. The mere mortals battled breathlessness, obesity and an unfamiliarity with flattering camera angles to appear on videos that were at best sweet and silly.
To my eternal embarrassment, I too danced to ‘Disco Deewane’ for a friend’s 50th birthday. The poor chap was laid up with Covid on the day. I was not as embarrassed by having to do it, as by the realisation of how much I enjoyed prancing before a camera. Clearly, enforced captivity colours the ridiculous in sublime hues.

Predictably, Zoom anniversaries, too, by the time of the crippling second wave, with at least one Zoom call reporting ululations from virtually present friends as the couple exchanged garlands in front of a laptop at their Versova home in Mumbai.

During the brief Omicron surge, there was talk of Meta weddings where guests sent their avatars as guests and the couple, too, had avatars who were getting married even as the wedding was telecast on a Facebook live from a chapel in Durban.

Today, as we are limping back to work, school, and college it would be interesting to see whether the Zoom party will still find a place in our lives. After all, the warmth of real friends, real music, and the giggly intimacy of huddled gossiping amid a larger party is a powerful pull. Yet, it would be interesting to understand why we ululated, danced, and created soppy video messages for friends. Equally, why did we exchange garlands, blow candles before phone cameras, and weep at messages on our special days?
Did the loneliness of the pandemic unhinge us? Was it the disruption of lockdowns have made us reach out to the virtual world to keep our sanity? Do we miss laughter, voices, and conversation more than we like to admit?

Then there were the deaths. Each one of us has woken up to the horrifying news of a loved one. an acquaintance, or a beloved artiste/sportsman/author succumbing to Covid. Perhaps in our isolation, we had time to process the grief of loss and discover a need to laugh, celebrate and cherish family and friends. Before the pandemic we would despair about the time we spent on screens. Truth be told, those screens are what saved us in the darkness of isolation, enforced captivity, and even illness.

There is a strong chance that we will finally get past these virtual parties, and if the time comes to delete meeting apps from our screens, let us remember it with gratitude and fondness. After all, it was an unlikely refuge in an abysmal phase of our lives.

Illustration by Sayan Chakraborty

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