Christmas is knocking at the door and the year is almost on its way out...there is a festive mood that is so typical of this time of the year. The chill, smog and wayside hot milk & pakora kiosks that spring up around market corners add to that mood. No wonder, I already feel like its friday today!
This time of the year makes me very nostalgic. Having grown up in the 70's in oil townships of Assam, I was raised in a very cosmopolitan environment. Apart from families from almost all over India, we had some British and Anglo-Indian families as well. Christmas time for us "baccha log" (that's what the club staff affectionally called us) was a time for going house to house singing carols, eating cake, preparing for the annual stage show of "Baby in the manger". Bundled in our woollens, like cherubs, we descended on every doorstep, whooping in delight whenever the cake was laced with rum! We would have a Christmas tree that was brought from Shillong and in true Christmas spirit, everybody would decorate it with a special prayer on their lips - "Santa, please, please bring me my present". What made the day even more memorable was the fact that Santa came in (hold your breath) in a chopper!! I remember one time, when I felt extra blessed that Christmas because my dad became Santa. I may be fantasising, but I did add two inches to my swollen forehead and was so proud of my dad and when he stepped out of the chopper, patted his protruding belly and let out a baritone "Ho, ho, ho!"