Christmas is the best time to be anywhere in the world, as long as you are not in India. I don't mean to be disrespectful to my motherland but it's just that Christmas in India is only as significant as any other public holiday. I have seen 23 winter seasons pass by and never really felt the essence of 25th December back at home. This date held a new meaning for me as I celebrated my first real Christmas in Singapore this year.
I sang the Christmas carols, decorated the Christmas tree, and heard the story of baby Jesus in the holy manger. I found myself treading along the Orchard Boulevard brushing shoulders with fellow beings, and dancing all night with strangers - spreading the Christmas cheer. All this gaiety took me back in time to my childhood days.
Christmas is always reminiscent of presents stuffed in stockings and tucked under the beautifully adorned Christmas tree. It is about wishes coming true. About miracles taking place. For me, however, this was a miserable time with schools about to reopen and homework still pending. But even in this state of wretchedness I somehow always got whatever I desired. Thanks to my evergreen Santa, Christmas time was not a prerequisite for my receiving gifts. This was more of a yearlong exercise.
And it was strange how I never got to see my good ol' Santa in person. I wondered if it was because he was invisible; or maybe because I never attended Mass or went to Church on Sunday mornings. Or it could even be because he never flew down to me personally and sent messengers whom I could not recognize in the absence of red garments and a flowing white beard. I consoled myself by thinking that whatever his reasons may be Santa loved me. And I loved my Santa for all his generosity.
Over the years I realized that I had to work to make my wishes come true. Growing up meant that I could provide for myself and the need for my Santa to climb down the chimney and stock up goodies by my bedside became obsolete. But I still miss those days! I miss the days when I gave unasked for gifts and took presents from loved ones, rather than merely exchanging them. The days when I did not have to wait for Christmas to have my wishes granted! The days when miracles just had a way of happening if I believed in them! The days when I wished for less, and got more!
Oh, how I wish I had remained a child, oblivious of the complex world in which I now live. How I wish my Santa would still take good care of me! Yeah he was my Santa; my very own personal Santa. Not the Santa that comes on a reindeer driven sledge from the North Pole only on Christmas nights. Not the Santa with the discerning red gown and a characteristic laughter. My Santa was there with me at all times to make sure I had everything I ever needed. My Santa, who lives in the guise of my loving parents. I love you, ma-pa: my good ol' Santa! Not only for having made my dreams come true this far, but also for making me dream.
And just by the way, I got a bottle of champagne this Christmas from the REAL Santa!
