When Celebration Turns Into a Social Burden

Malik Nazir

 

“The pressure of result season does not spare the hosts either—what should be a moment of pride often becomes a cycle of expense, preparation, and stress.”

Every year, the declaration of board examination results brings with it a familiar wave of emotions. For thousands of students, it is a moment of relief, validation, and hope. Homes resonate with happiness, parents feel rewarded for years of patience and sacrifice, and children rightfully enjoy the warmth of appreciation. Success, undeniably, deserves celebration.

Yet beneath this collective joy lies a quieter and largely unspoken reality. For many families, the result season has gradually transformed from a time of happiness into a period marked by anxiety and financial strain.

In our society, celebration seldom remains simple. What begins as a heartfelt gesture of congratulations often evolves into an unwritten social obligation. Visiting the homes of relatives, neighbours, and acquaintances with boxes of sweets, cakes, fruits, money garlands, and sometimes even envelopes of cash has become a norm that few dare to defy. What was once an expression of goodwill has hardened into a ritual that weighs heavily on families with modest or limited means.

This reality became strikingly evident during a recent discussion about the Class 10 and 12 examination results. Instead of joy, the conversation took a sombre turn when one individual shared his anxiety. He admitted that he would need to arrange at least ten thousand rupees simply to meet the expectations associated with congratulating relatives whose child had scored well. For him, this was no trivial sum. It meant borrowing money, cutting down on essential household needs, or slipping into temporary debt. Yet he felt trapped, compelled by social pressure and the fear of being perceived as indifferent or disrespectful.

That moment lingered with me. On the same day, a visit to a local bakery offered a telling snapshot of the season. The shelves were nearly bare. The baker, with a knowing smile, explained that it was result day, people had rushed to buy sweets and cakes in bulk, leaving little behind. The scene spoke volumes about how deeply ingrained this culture of compulsory celebration has become.

This reflection does not criticize tradition itself, nor do I claim to be separate from it. I, too, am part of this social practice. Over the years, it has become so entrenched that opting out risks being labelled resentful or unsupportive of others success. However, when another person’s achievement turns into a financial burden for many, it is time to pause and reflect.

The pressure is not limited to those offering congratulations. The hosts, too, are bound by expectations. They must be prepared to receive guests, arrange sweets, bakery items, and often elaborate meals, depending on the closeness of relationships. What should be a moment of pride and gratitude frequently becomes another cycle of expense and stress. On that same result day, I noticed a former colleague entering a relative’s home, arms laden with gift baskets, reinforcing how deeply this obligation is internalized.

Celebrating success is a beautiful and necessary human instinct. But when celebration becomes artificial, competitive, and compulsory, it loses its essence. True joy lies in sincere words, shared pride, and genuine encouragement,not in the weight of social expectations or financial strain.

Crucially, we must recognize that it is far better to keep congratulatory events simple, cordial, and natural than to allow them to become artificial and burdensome. We must also move away from viewing such interactions as an “investment-type” system, where gifts are exchanged with the expectation of future returns. When congratulations are quantified, the moment is stripped of its soul.

It is time to reflect together. By returning to simple and humane ways of sharing happiness, we can make sure success remains a joy to cherish, not a burden to bear.

 

The author is a teacher and can be reached at maliknazir.a@gmail.com

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