As a kid, I would
preserve my cleanest pair of white school socks for Santa. I didn’t bother much
about if he would be tired when he got to my place, travelling across
continents, should I stay up to give him a class of water and make him a
sandwich? No, I wanted gifts. It was my only relationship with Santa and that
was that.
Now that Santa has
ceased to exist the greedy mongrel in me continues to be satiated by my friends
and family who know always make a mental note when I am rambling about a book I
really want to read or if I need (read: want) a new pen or lipstick, scarf or a
pair of jeans.
But suddenly this Christmas
eve I realize that all along I have been anything but thankful. Not for
material possessions but for the people who bear with me every day and believe
that I am a good person who only goes nuts at times. Whose jokes are downright
unfunny but hey she is as imperfect as perfect can be! (See, what I did there)
Anyway, as I sit in my
room typing this post, my head is dizzy with a viral fever which has been
harrowing me for the last two days and I don’t remember the last time I was
sick on Christmas, so yes, I am a little sad and also a little bitter maybe.
However this also makes me realize
that Christmas is not just a hullabaloo of what presents you got and what you
aspired for and couldn’t achieve. It’s also about being there in the moment.
Having that extra piece of pie and not care two hoots about what it is going to
do to your hourglass figure, that extra tequila shot at a random bar because everyone
around is hammered anyway. Karaoke to your favourite song on a non karaoke night or better still dirty dance to it and make your friend hope for a microsecond that you didn't exist (but then come and join you any way).
But above all a silent prayer, because somewhere
somehow some Santa is looking out for you, and will make sure your wishes, they
come true.
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