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When I was growing up we didn’t celebrate Christmas. As in, we had no Christmas tree or stockings and no Santa came to give us gifts on Christmas Eve.
We were Gujaratis who typically celebrated Diwali, Bestu Varas, Holi & Sankranti. But my parents were “cosmopolitan”, so we went for Christmas parties to various Gymkhanas where emaciated Santas sat listlessly while Bing Crosby dreamt of a White Christmas. The highlight of the holiday used to be the Christmas party at my Mom’s Catholic friend, Robert Uncle’s house. It was my first taste of an authentic Christmas meal and I loved it. So apart from the fact that we had Christmas holidays, there was no payback, thanks to this festival; unlike Diwali, where we got new clothes and gift envelopes filled with money.
While growing up I’d read books that described the festival of Christmas so beautifully, the tree, the stockings, singing carols, leaving milk & cookies for Santa who came down the chimney with gifts. And oh yes, the snow falling gently. At that time, I so wanted to be a part of this festival, which by virtue of being “foreign” seemed more alluring than my Diwali!
So I decided to make all this happen for my little girl.
Kiara was born and when her first Christmas came around, I decided to go all out and give her the Christmas I’d always dreamed about. My mother-in-law got a small fir tree, which was decorated and cotton put on it to depict snow. A small gift was put under it, she was dressed in red and off we went to the Marriott hotel for a fancy Christmas party (an upgrade from the parties of my childhood).
The halls were decked with holly & all was ‘Tra la la la la’! Santa came in a sleigh with a “Ho ho ho” & Kiara had a Merry Christmas.
Thus began the tradition of celebrating Christmas in our household.
When she was five, we experienced what a real white Christmas felt like – thanks to our family in the USA. On Christmas Eve, she was made to leave out milk and cookies for Santa near the fireplace, which her Uncle Anand ate up and left her a lovely letter from Santa. When she woke up in the morning she was most delighted to find lots of gifts for herself under the tree along with a stocking as big as herself stuffed with more gifts and candy! They spoiled her rotten and Uncle Alfie even dressed up as an Elf! It’s been her best Christmas yet.
And so our Christmas celebrations kept getting more elaborate. A bigger tree, which is decorated while listening to Christmas carols, personalised stockings, poinsettias all around the house, letters to Santa, milk & cookies for him and the tradition of exchanging gifts on Christmas morning. A Christmas party at home for all of Kiara’s friends has become mandatory!
In 2014 she turned 12. That year in December we started some renovation work in the house and since it was a mess I didn’t put up the tree or have a party for Kiara. I thought to myself she’s a big girl now and anyway she knows there’s no Santa.
But I was so wrong!
She’d made a long list of what she wanted for Christmas. But I didn’t really get a chance to buy anything. On Christmas Eve she went to her cousin’s house & since they had a tree there, I decided to be “practical” and leave money in an envelope with a letter from Santa telling her to go shop for all the things on her list with that money.
Christmas morning I got a message from her telling me how I was the worst parent in the world! And who gets money for Christmas?
I tried to reason with her that since she knows there’s no Santa, I didn’t bother with the gifts. But she wasn’t to be placated and I was given the epithet of “meanest mother”! That hurt, but when I analysed it, I realised that all my little girl wanted was the “Magic of Christmas”.
The “Magic” which I’d taught her about, the magic that I also believe in and I felt bad that I didn’t make the magic happen that year.
Instead, I became the Grinch who stole her Christmas!
We eventually made up, but I wasn’t “forgiven” and I had to promise to make amends by taking her to Santa’s village in Lapland next Christmas.
PS: She turned 14 this year… not much has changed. I get messages saying “Hint, Hint” with pictures of stuff she wants from various stores. And oh, the tree’s gotten bigger and the Christmas party is on.
Merry Christmas to all of you!
(Manasi Joshi Roy is essentially an actor. Full-time mom. Part-time dreamer. Sporadic blogger at This, That & the Other. A regular foodie who loves to travel.)
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