My thoughts on the Emptiness of Birthdays and Anniversaries

Yesterday, December 3rd, marked our 18th wedding anniversary.

My wife, Dipti, places great significance on these landmark dates. They are meaningful to her. I am different. I do not.

I will admit: there is a slight, undeniable niceness in the air on these days. It offers an opportunity. It forces a reflection on the journey. Our marriage has been anything but a beautiful fairy tale. It has been rocky. Yet, it is still rock steady and we have put in a lot of work. and we are proud of it.

That reflection, however, is a reminder.

It reminds me how I truly feel about birthdays and anniversaries.

The Problem of Expectation

Dipti is not extreme. She expects the closest family members to remember. To wish. She maintains a mental calendar for all near and dear.

I am the complete opposite. I am thankful I can remember the birthdates of my wife and children. Forget everyone else. Dipti is my reminder system.

But with time, I have noticed something deeper. I do not enjoy these landmarks at all. In fact, when my own birthday arrives, I am usually irritated.

This irritation is not about aging. It is not the morbid thought that you have "one less year to live." That assumption is stupid. It assumes we know how long we have.

The irritation stems from key observations about modern life.

The Emptiness of the Check Mark

Today, birthdays and anniversaries are simple check marks.

A family WhatsApp group announces the day. Facebook informs the masses. These platforms trigger an event. People send a customary wish.

I hate this. There is no genuineness behind the gesture. 

It is herd mentality. 

It is social obligation. 

It is making sure you have done your part.

Think about it clearly: If a social platform introduced an "auto-wish" feature, people would embrace it instantly. It would remove the minimal effort. The desire is to discharge the duty, not connect with the person.

We are missing honest, genuine connection.

The evidence is simple. 

The person wishing you may not have spoken to you in years. 

They have absolutely no idea what season of life you are in. 

They do not know how you are doing. 

So, what does "Warm wishes" means? and who has wishfulness helped? 

It is a useless exchange of digital noise.

The Root: Insecurity and Consumption

If we dig deeper into this behavior, I think it is rooted in insecurity.

The attitude of sending wishes immediately comes from a place of fear. 

"If I do not wish them, who will wish me?"

The same dynamic is true for events like a wedding, especially in India. We invite tons of people.

Ninety-nine percent of people attend for one reason- 

If they do not go to yours, who will come to theirs? 

Most relatives are present. But are they truly joyous? I have seen otherwise at almost every function.

These occasions become a place to eat and to consume.

In Indian society, every occasion has an ultimate association with food. Every single one. 

So, when birthdays and anniversaries roll around, they are just another opportunity. 

Breaking break together has been seen as a very important part of relationship building, but we have flipped everything over. It adds nothing of substance to the relationship.

Meaningful Gestures are a Measure

Taking the genuine connection argument further, I used to enjoy birthdays when the people in my life were true cheerleaders. They were well-wishing.

One key measure shows who these people are: They know what you want, and they know what matters to you.

They do not send automated greetings. They show up with effort.

I recall two moments that defined this genuine connection.

For one birthday, a close friend took the time to contact many people in my life—family, friends, even colleagues. He collected personal messages from each of them. Then, he compiled these messages into a scrapbook. It blew my mind. I could not figure out how he had even tracked down my old work contacts. The sheer intentionality of the effort was the gift.

Another time, when I was about to introduce my girlfriend—now my wife—to my closest friends, they hosted a dinner. It was a complete surprise. They did not cater; they prepared a detailed, home-cooked meal themselves. We were bachelors and none of us were great at cooking, but decent enough. The evening was outstanding. It was a clear investment of their time and care into my life, not just a party thrown for obligation.

That is true connection.

Today, most gifts are useless. They have no meaning. Because we dont know anyone, either todays gifting is mostly useless stuff, or safer choices are to send gift cards.

The Real Roster of Life

In events like birthdays, apart from parents, who may hold an iota of genuine, selfless happiness, the rest of the world has no relevance.

I have always maintained this: If you have two to five people who truly genuinely care, that is a life well lived.

These people could be closest friends. They could be a sibling. Maybe a colleague. 

But- They must genuinely care for your well-being. They must stay in touch. They talk about important stuff. And they talk about the useless, everyday stuff. Those are real relationships. 

The rest is completely unnecessary.

I tell my wife often: The sooner we realize this, the better. There is no one else.

Even further: It is just you for yourself.

If you are insecure about life, if you live life with fear, no amount of cakes, party decorations, or mandatory social media messages can fill that void.

The check marks are empty. 

I Seek the true connection instead with myself first. and that set me free.