An unfulfilled wish
Christmas was the most dreadful time of the year for me when I was a child, because unlike other kids I was dead scared of the most generous man on earth, Mr. Santa. I would have been fine, if it was not for that 10 cm long white, curly, fluffy mass hanging down his chin. It was not just His white fluffy overgrowth, beards in all colors and styles increased my heartbeats. And I was the kid in Home Alone movie who was petrified by the old man, his neighbor.
So every time Mr. Santa comes home I disappear and I come out of my hiding place only when the coast is clear. My parents tried their best to convince me that Santa won’t bite. Well, to date I don’t think my parents know my problem was not with him but with his beard. I was Pogonophobic.
Amma’s stories around those times had the same thread with just one Hero — St. Nicholas aka Santa Claus.
Every time I hear the story, I was mad at God and totally disappointed with the selection process he employed in conferring the title of “Saint”. He should have included a “Look Test” in his selection procedure.
My prayer during those times was for a Christmas sans Santa Claus. And it took 19 long years and a pandemic for my wish to turn into a possibility. And it remained just that, for around 8pm tonight carol songs broke the silence of the night. Within minutes he was there at my gate, “The Man Clad in Red” with his signature beard. Nothing could stop him, not even a pandemic.
And for the fear, thanks to one of the most handsome guys I know who rocks a bearded look, for wrapping my little fingers in his, when I had my first close encounter with a Santa Claus.
