Santa is coming, and he has the answers!

Published on 21/12/2016 in the Deccan Herald's "Right in the Middle Column"

 Soon Santa will be here. I am excited, for acche din will soon be mine. But He comes with a clause, and in my case, a host of them.

I am old enough to stop believing that an ageless, wrinkleless man with a luxurious white beard, a peaked cap, rimmed spectacles, a pot belly and a kindly face, padded up in a ball of red wool with specks of snow all over, is going to come all the way from the north pole with a bag of goodies for me, yet I am excited.

As a child, I believed and quaintly, still do, that he was drawn to the tropics by his love for me – and my goodness. But now that I am older, I know better -  It’s  climate change that forces him out of his natural habitat.  Maybe it's true, for 151 nations have been discussing just that in December - I hope they succeed.

For, I remember the times when I was little. I would wake up on the Christmas morning to find a stocking placed below a well lit Christmas tree.  I did not sleep the whole night in excitement, and yet I missed the heavy foot falls of Santa, that other kids told me of.  Still,  as the sun rose, I would find, in the clean stocking placed by the tree, my favorite chocolates and a low hanging fruit, ready and ripe for plucking - sometimes a train, sometimes a car and sometimes a gun... when ISIS was only a figment. 

Perhaps I was luckier than others, for I actually saw him, stealing away one night. I was still a kid of five years when my parents, arriving from Kuwait with me stayed over at my cousins flat on the 2^nd floor, in Mumbai for Christmas. The Christmas spirit was flowing on the eve, and when I was pushed to sleep, it was late - nearly midnight.  I lay me down and pretended to close my eyes.  Within the hour, I heard a sound - a thud and a whoosh!.

I got up and rushed to the window, only to see Santa on a sleigh driving his reindeer in a cloud of snow rushing past my window. I remember that vividly. I turned and rushed to the Christmas tree. Nothing.  Disappointment is too mild a word for what I felt that night.

My aunt was watching me and said that unless you sleep, he will not come. So I did just that. I closed my eyes, but didn’t sleep.  At  first light,  I rushed to the Christmas tree. Nothing again.  I blamed myself. But the memory is still vivid. Perhaps it was a hallucination, perhaps it was real  - but I can’t seem to forget it.

I still believe in that icon of love and compassion, and the goodies that he brings silently and unobtrusively into my life, which, now with climate change, he does,  all the year round.  However, reality often raises questions, to which Santa, when he comes, I am sure, will have all the answers.