Winter has already set-in, bringing in the gaiety and vivacity of Christmas and the advent of a New Year along with the holiday mood setting in. For someone like me, it gets really tough to brave the chill and get out from the comforts of my sweet little pad. Not that I don`t like celebrations- it’s just the cosiness of the warm blanket with the hot cup of coffee, some butter flavoured popcorns and surfing through TV- changing channels between ads to catch on almost all the Christmas movies - during a beautiful winter evening that makes me sit at home.
And as always, this time too I skipped plans to go out, only to catch up with my all time favourite movie `Home Alone`. I still remember, as an 8-year old, how I fought with my dad to go out and watch the movie with my neighbour’s kids and how I wished to have a similar fate like Kevin McCallister, so that I too could plan my own adventure and outwit the burglars with my tricks. But as fate would have it, I never
got a chance to be adventurous as a kid but as a grown up, I am defiantly home alone which now I realise is one of the worst punishments one could get during the festive season.
As I watched the movie this time, it was not the adventures that fascinated me, but the pre-occupied thought of being all alone on Christmas that stabbed my heart. I tried to concentrate on other things to get over the emotions when my eyes caught hold of the box kept on the table. I had taken out the box a few days back to look out for my priced possessions, but let it rest on the table for lack of time- something us, as adults always complain of.
The handmade box, cut out of cardboard and colourful chart papers with stars made of silver paper cut-outs adorning the sides, is my oldest and most precious memories which I have carefully maintained so that it never loses the innocence with which it was made at the age when Christmas was about collecting gifts and stocking them up. Though most gifts have made way for new ones, the box still cherishes the presence of the Christmas stockings- my first gift I had asked Santa to get me and which I still hang up during the season, and an endless list of everything that I wished since then. All my wish lists had another note attached to it –especially written by Santa - citing reasons on why I deserved the gift. Yes, as a child I took pride in telling others how Santa came at night to drop me the gifts and it was because of their bad deeds that they didn’t end up getting one. Time went by and somewhere the wish list and gifts found a silent place in the solitude in some corner of the house.
As my childhood unfolded frame-by-frame, like a motion picture, I realised why my Santa, each time made sure I had my gifts especially with the notes assuring me of my goodness. Somehow my happiness and innocence were the reasons for his contentment.
As a child, life is much easier - all one needs to do is put the wish list in the Christmas stockings hanging on the door knob or the window so that it could be spotted easily and express wishes aloud so that the Santa sitting in the next room could fulfil it.
As I went through the collection, I found a blank paper lying at the bottom of the box, and without a second thought I scribbled my wish for this Christmas – hoping maybe Santa made an exception to visit this grown-up.
For Santa`s information- `The wish list is placed in the stocking hanging on the front door between the wreath`.
(The views expressed by the author are personal)