The beard-clad man in blaring red clothes and laughing hysterically scared me as a six-year-old. I refused to take any gift from this stranger, as strongly advised by my mother. I even cried as he insisted on carrying me.
Finally, I had to be cajoled and I posed for a picture, with this man, who people knew as Santa Claus. My expression remained scared and helpless.
Since then, Santa Claus remained as a bad memory, till I found my choicest gifts in my stockings. My friends had suggested I place them. Since, I would not be meeting him, I was relieved. What a Deal! I would receive gifts, without meeting him.
Eventually, my fears faded away as my Secret Santa would not demand much and all he wanted me to do was be good. At least for the Christmas month, I would behave very well.
Finally, as I grew up to be ten years old, I was excited to meet Santa Claus. Dressed in our Diwali dresses, my bunch of friends and I would march proudly to a Walden, a Huge book Store or Pantaloons, greet Santa, thank him and take whatever he offered.
We were excited for the next few days and chuckled over my fears when I was younger. “I am grown up now.I understand Santa!” I proudly declared.
Over the years, my love for Santa Claus only grew until I realized who the actual Santa was. At first, I refused to believe but watching detective serials does help and a little bit of investigation busted my myth.
I was disappointed at the blasphemy of Santa. How dare he fool us as little kids! I never celebrated Christmas much nor participated in the school activities during Christmas, afterwards.
During my Eleventh Standard, my mother, a school teacher, owing to her physique, volunteered to play the role a Santa Claus at her school. I was again involved with Santa Claus, an experience I tried forgetting.
Nevertheless, my love for her overpowered my varied feelings for Santa. We shopped for the Santa Claus costume and for all the gifts, that she would give away. Her enthusiasm was evident in the choice of gifts. She carefully picked them, trying to gauge her student’s wishes.
She eves dropped at her students’ conversation to know what they’d want. She asked the students their choice camouflaged as a teacher’s enquiry.
Finally, when the Day had come, her excitement, nervousness had paid off. Her students loved her as she sang :
Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse open sleigh
O’er the fields we go
Laughing all the way
Jingle Bells.. Jingle Bells..
followed by the Ho Ho HO
And the gifts to top it all, some students, who were my friends told me “We had the Best Santa today.” This lingered in my mind for a long time.
And, I decided to be one too. With the help of my friend, Ananth, we went to the slum, we volunteered at. I introduced myself as “Santa thatha” [Santa grandpa]. We rejoiced the occasion and distributed sweets, chocolates, and joy. The happiness on their faces is indescribable.
The myriad hues of Santa Claus painted since I was a kid, makes me wish each and every Santa a Merry Christmas!
url: http://www.tsr.net.co/profiles/blogs/santa-claus-ed?xg_source=msg_appr_blogpost