Isn’t Santa for real?

 

For me the most endearing and enduring symbols of Christmas have been the Christmas tree, the stockings, Rudolph, and most of all, dear old Santa – plump and jovial, generous and kind. As a child, I enjoyed letting my imagination get the better of me and therefore readily believed in everything that seemed to make the world a more exotic place. So there was no doubt in my mind that Santa existed, as did fairies and elves, gnomes and witches. The only glitch was that he rarely visited our part of the world – we only read about him in books and got a glimpse of him on TV. That was another era – growing up in the seventies in India was quite different from what it is like today when Santa visits every mall, school and club carrying that huge bag of his, bursting with gifts.

As childhood gave way to teenage and then adulthood, logic and reason outpaced innocence. But the diehard romantic that I was, I never left my imagination far behind. I always knew that I would keep the legend of Santa Claus alive when I became a parent. And sure enough, I regaled both my little girls with heartwarming tales of fairies with their magic wands, of a fantastic world where nothing was impossible and of course – of good old Santa who came all the way from the North Pole with a special gift for every child in every home.

For as long as the magic of imagination and innocence worked, they would wake up every Christmas morning and excitedly look for Santa’s present. And I would be as excited as they were, delighted in their delight, warmed by their belief. As the years passed that conviction changed to a willing suspension of disbelief – my elder one had probably guessed the truth about who left the gifts there for them but she still played along for the sake of her younger sister. The years flew by and Santa eventually stopped visiting our home too.

Fast forward to modern times. I read about how some children were heartbroken and inconsolable upon suddenly learning one fine day that there really was no Santa. Wanting to spare their kids from this heartbreak, many parents were increasingly preferring to steer clear of the Santa myth altogether. My elder daughter, just out of her teens told me that most of her friends had never believed in Santa anyway, not even when they were little. When I quizzed my younger one (now a teenager) about it, she said she too hadn’t been taken in for too long. The truth had dawned on her even earlier than it had for her elder sister and that she too had kept playing along for a few years after that – for my sake. That was rather sweet of her, I think.

Sometime between now and when I was a little girl, the world has drastically changed. Reality has become virtual and we totally thrive in that deception, yet why are we no longer able to willingly suspend disbelief especially if it means adding an innocent joy to our life? Why is it all about being precise and accurate to the point of missing the point altogether? Why should the greeting switch from Merry Christmas to Happy Holidays depending on who you are saying it to?

Christmas to me will forever mean a special warmth in the cold December air, and Santa – the harbinger of joy and cheer. Reason, logic, faith and belief notwithstanding! I guess a part of me has never grown up – and am I glad about that!

New Year Resolutions – A Trip Down Memory Lane

 

New Year Resolutions are made only to be broken – so suggests my experience of more than four decades. Yet every 31st, most of us end up making one. It is perhaps the sheer exuberance of the atmosphere and the spirit of the fresh New Year standing at our doorstep, which infuses optimism into our already lightheaded (dare I say tipsy?) minds that we decide to give ourselves one more chance towards self enhancement. Before I take the “plunge” for the coming year, let me embark on a journey back in time and reminisce some of my previous New Year Resolutions and how long it was until they were abandoned.

The earliest resolution made by yours truly was as a determined ten year old sporting long waist length hair. My mother would lovingly oil and braid my hair in two plaits. I detested the oil but nothing would convince her otherwise. So I decided to take matters literally in my own hands by triumphantly announcing to mommy dear, one chilly New Year’s Eve that henceforth I would braid my own hair. She readily agreed, casting a very condescending look at me. My valiant, determined efforts continued for two whole days before the daily morning struggle cost me a missed school bus and a host of subsequent problems. Finally better (or worse) sense prevailed and mommy dear smiled knowingly as I reverted to my well oiled plaits!

My next resolution was as a just turned thirteen dreamy teenager. My parents had gifted me the book, ‘Diary of Anne Frank’ for my birthday. So swept off my feet was I after reading it , that I wanted to emulate her and thus sprang the resolution to maintain a diary. My crazy adolescent brains fantasised how one day my diary would win the Booker and make me famous. “Dream big! Nothing’s impossible – that’s what all great visionaries vouch for”, my dreamy mind told my even dreamier heart as I religiously poured out each day’s happenings and thoughts for as long as I could. As is inevitable, the dreaminess faded and gave way to practical reality and other worldly tensions (read studies) took much of my time and energies. Gradually the frequency of my diary writing diminished, much like all the exaggerated fantasies of ever bagging the Booker receded into the realm of impossibility.

There came many more after that, generated by an ever idealistic and optimistic mind – will never use plastic bags, will eat only healthy food and will keep mind and body fit by regular exercise and even meditation!! While the optimism continues, the resolutions have, sooner or later, met with the same fate as their predecessors.

Coming to the present, I certainly owe it to the spirit of the New Year and all that it symbolises, to make a fresh resolution. Let’s begin with learning to confront my fears – my phobia for driving for example and get that driving license this summer. But there is also a resolution on a wiser, more philosophical level – one that I have arrived at after four decades of experience. Strive to create happiness in my everyday life rather than trying to find it in imagined situations. Stay positive, love myself and be content with knowing what limitations I can and cannot transcend.

It’s just the first step but I really want this one to be for keeps!