Christmas Tidings

Christmas Tidings(SUDESHNA MAJUMDAR) Christmas Tidings

My mantle piece has only seven Christmas cards. All my techno-savvy friends have sent e-greetings which positively lack the warmth and personal touch of a beautiful, handwritten Christmas card. Jim Reeves would have never written his famous ditty "An Old Christmas Card" in today's day and age.

My memories hark back to Christmas many years ago. As a little girl when dates and months as yet held no meaning for me, I knew Christmas was round the corner when Uncle Sam would dust the old radio-gram and play Jim Reeves' Christmas Carols. Preparations would begin with mom buying me brand new dress replete with frills and flounces not to forget the shoes and accessories to match. I would decorate the home with buntings and festoons. A cardboard box from the grocer's, elaborately painted, would be transformed after hours of labour into a beautiful crib to house baby Jesus. And hay from the fruit vendor would give the crib the ambience of a stable.

On Christmas Eve, Aunt Flora would take out her Kanjeevaram saree and uncle Sam his suit from the recesses of the cupboard. The highlight of Christmas would be the midnight mass. The holy name Cathedral grounds would reverberate to the soulful strains of "Silent Night". I would invariably fall asleep during the Archbishop's long sermon only to be nudged awake by my Aunt. An afternoon nap soon did the trick and I learnt to remain bright and cheery through the night.

Going back home after mass held its own special excitement for me. Otherwise when else would a little girl be allowed to remain awake in the dead of night, drink juice in a crystal glass and bite into rich plum cake?
Christmas day would begin with the customary distribution of cake and goodies. I live in a cosmopolitan building where we have Gujaratis, Muslims, Sikhs, Goans, Parses, UPites and even an Iranian and Dutch family for neighbours. So every festival is celebrated with gusto. Diwali brings in loads of mithae, during Eid we savour yummy sevaiyan and Christmas means cake and savouries.

Christmas will never be the same again. Uncle Sam is no more, Aunt is in another city and I along with my parents in Faraway Kolkata. But then even baby Jesus was born far away from home, in a manger, with no crib for a bed. And yet, He smiled serenely at every passer-bys, the shepherds who flocked to see Him and at the three kings who came to pay Him obeisance.

So, I too am gonna have myself a Merry little Christmas!!