Monday, December 23, 2013

Pillow-Chocolates, Christmas & Cookies!


I've always known that Santa wasn't real. I was a smart kid like that. But I could never resist watching my parents bring Christmas up a notch every year. Christmas wasn't ever about Jesus or Christianity for us: for obvious reasons. However Bengalis have a knack of meddling with almost every holiday that is major for anyone. If my dad had enough information about Hanukkah I'm sure he'd get a bunch of lights and candles and made a day out of it. For me Christmas meant plum cakes, fruit cakes, chocolates and gifts. It was more about how good we've been all year round. It was a bonus day (apart from birthdays) when we kids got cool stuff from a certain Santa person. I remember Mum sneaking chocolates under our pillows at night and Dad - up to his old antics to hide presents from us. This one time was spectacularly special and till date I don't know how he pulled it off. I had my eyes on a particular doll I'd seen at 'Wonderland' (Our closest toy shop) and I made it quite clear that I was lusting after it. On Christmas eve, we were sitting in the living room eating some snacks and watching tv when the doorbell suddenly rang. Dad looks up and mischievously says - go see who's at the door. The gift was kept at the doorstep (awesomely packed of course), and I don't think I need to spell out the contents inside the wrapper. I think that day, I kind of believed Dad was partnering with this mysterious Santa guy to ship us gifts. For the believers out there who bask in the goodness of Christmas spirit - this would have been a perfect story. Years have gone by, and I have been waking up to no chocolates under the pillow on Christmas day for a while now. I think holidays are definitely harder when you are staying away from home; especially when you have so many memories attached to each one of the occasions. This year I'm going to be my own Santa. I think.  - So... rushing home to make Chocolate chip cookies today (cos I can't beat the cakes mum makes). Hiding chocolates under  my own pillow might be too creepy at almost 30, but I'm still contemplating work-arounds.