getting a kick out of life

(Disclaimer: The incidents described below are totally fictitious and any resemblance to any person, living or dead (which, by the way, will emerge as a distinct possibility), is totally incidental.

You Wish.)

Humanity has reached the end of the road.

There was a time when birthdays used to be peaceful affairs celebrated with nothing more dangerous than sharp wit or blunt humour.

Now they are occasions marked by inglorious kicking sessions dominated by monsters with blood in their eyes and anything from bats to sticks to pipes and footwear in their hands. You get walked down death row, drenched in (preferably) cold water, beaten to near (in some cases actual)unconscious, splattered with eggs and cake, and if unlucky enough to have a lot of caring friends, get your balls smashed against the nearest pillar.

I know you’re thinking, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Here’s the good part. This unholy ritual is then followed by people hugging you, along with reluctant sighs of “happy birthday, dude” whispered in your ear. You then get the honor of taking them to the mess and throwing an open party where people eat some and then carry some more back to their rooms. Everyone’s happy including the birthday boy who is nearly in tears (of joy, they say). The guy calculates his popularity in accordance with the pain in his ass and feels happy enough to have gotten through alive.

Long after I’ve accepted the barbaric kicks and physical torture, there are still a few things that trouble me. There are always less “Happy Birthday”s then the number of people kicking the shit out of the poor soul. Simple logic leads me to understand that there are at least a few people out there who come in, kick the guy, then go back without even a customary, if reluctant, birthday wish.

I wonder how they manage to sleep at night.

But if the new trend is to be believed, those were the good old days. Just today I heard of this shocking incident that occurred sometime back. The birthday boy in question was throwing a party. It was celebrated with the customary kicks, followed by a night of heavy boozing (to relieve the pain, one supposes). Now, comes the scary part. The poor soul, now totally inebriated, was walked to his room, where he was then kicked, again (!), for good effect. The troubling thing is that the guy obviously had no idea he was being wished (?) the seven seas and the seven heavens in his drunken state. But in his oblivious state, he got a few heavy rounds of merciless birthday bumps, and then some.

In short, a drunk guy got the shit kicked out of him for no obvious reason.

Seriously, what have we turned into?