Christmas Cheer Heralding Hope

The dear carolers from Church came home in the wee hours of the morning, bringing with them the exultation of the spirit of Christmas that they’ve been sharing with every home they entered. Of course, going on carol rounds is a lot of fun, but let’s not forget that it can be very tiring too, having to go to work and school in another few hours. As I see it, sacrifice is the key. Exuberance dispelling any trace of exhaustion, the carol singers from the Sacred Heart Church, Railway Colony, Madurai, graced homes, far and near, heralding hope and joy, infectious and inspiring, from the tiny tots to our dear Priests! 

Watching the cheerful group leave, put me in flashback mode. I believe no camera in the world, can capture and contain life, like one’s memory. Join me, dear readers, as I prance down memory lane reveling as I reminisce those indelible, tangible times that some of you too might have experienced.

In my little town of Bitragunta, Christmas was always a very memorable time for everyone, hectic though, for our parents, who never displayed any sign of letting up on their promise for a Christmas to remember! Those were the days of the radio, reliable and regal, and the good, old gramophone! Every household was enveloped in the warmth of those timeless carols playing in the background, especially those by the eternal Jim Reeves.

Unlike today, schools closed a good week or so before Christmas and reopened much after the New Year. What fun it was with families getting together to prepare the traditional Christmas goodies – kul-kuls, rose-cookies, plum cake! At Carmel Cottage, our home, we children would position ourselves around the large enamel basin (that also doubled up as the baby’s bath tub when needed), fork in hand, helping mummy make kul-kuls. In a short while, bored with making the little kul-kul clones, we’d begin experimenting with different designs, often failing in our attempts, a la Thomas Edison, far-fetching though the comparison be! Rose-cookie making was solely mummy and ayah’s forte.

Cake mixing time was heavenly. Here Daddy was the gourmet chef. We’d take turns holding the enamel basin while Dad churned the flour and fruit, sugar and spice, butter, etc. The aromatic concoction automatically drew our fingers into the freshly fluffy mountain of batter! And talk about the tussle over who gets to lick the basin and spoons (one doesn’t have to be clairvoyant to be able to see those sheepish smiles) after the mix is poured into cake tins – no, not the cake moulds of all shapes and sizes that we use today – very ordinary milk or biscuit tins! I loved licking the platter, sorry, the basin, clean, only to end up with a tummy ache, thanks to my being egg allergic. Never stopped me though. Guess common sense took its time getting to me!

Shopping, especially Christmas shopping, meant a jolly good trip to the then Marvel: Madras Moore Market, a labyrinth of beehive shops that had everything anyone would ever need or want! Moore market is, undeniably, the protype of the modern day ‘one-stop-shops’ that have sprouted everywhere, and evolved into mammoth structures teeming with shoppers hurrying home with their treasures. Moore Market had an astounding array of high heel shoes that I, invariably, found tantalizingly tempting. I’d fantasize walking away with all of those fancy footwear, despite the fact that I was on a shoe-string budget!

Back home after shopping, our ever-faithful tailor, Iskar Ali, a small-made, sharp eyed, old man, would be at home for a week, working up wonderful dresses for all of us. I loved sitting beside tailor (as we called him) to turn the sewing machine handle while he stitched. With a mat on the floor, the sewing machine mounted on a low stool, tailor would fly off into his world of frills and flounces and what not! And woe betide I tried to touch any other part of the machine, when he was busily bent over getting the ‘cutting’ right! I would be the recipient of an incredibly painful knock on the knuckles, bringing tears unbidding that smart my eyes, threatening a downpour! Tailor wasn’t being rude, no. It was just that the sweet old man brooked no interruption when working. It was only years later, when I tried my hand at sewing, that I realized the amount of patience and concentration one needed to make a beautiful frock. Knuckle-knocks never prevented me from turning up like a bad penny the next day and the next, to turn the handle for tailor. Some of us never learn, now, do we? Yours truly sure belongs to that category! Thing is, I enjoyed doing what I was doing, and that’s how it is for me even today.

Putting up Christmas decorations saw the entire family – the same goes for all families – working together as a team. Our homes were festooned with simple, handmade streamers, stars, tree, and oh yes, balloons which we children loved blowing and tying in bunches. The shake-up we get when one suddenly bursts while it is being blown, added to the fun. The Christmas cards we received would find prime place, strung up at one side of the hall. Putting up decorations, the Christmas tree, is great, but taking them down – after the feast of Epiphany on the 6th of January – well, that’s the down-side; you agree, right!

My thoughts now race back to the Carol rounds in my dear hometown. The children and youth would gather for practice in one of our homes while the adults had their practice for Christmas Mass, in Church. That time of the year was always chilly as I recall. Some of us bare headed, others with monkey caps or scarves, we would traverse the night on foot, stopping at every house singing carols. Wait… the best is yet to come – especially when one is a child – we would be treated to a variety of sweets at each home. What a thrill to have our fill, chomping away even in the dead of night!

Over the years, change being the only constant, the old, traditional celebrations proceeded to go with the times.  Carol rounds is now a happy bus/van/car ride from house to house far-flung from each other. Bewitching decorations, yummy cakes, dazzling dresses, beckon us from every shopping mall. With a tighter (or no) holiday duration, festive family fun seems to be on the run!

Nevertheless, everybody loves to celebrate Christmas, the birth of Jesus Christ, the herald of hope and healing! The spirit of Christmas that embodies hope, love, peace, joy and giving, selflessness and togetherness, is the beacon light, that gently reminds us that we need to strive towards becoming a better version of ourselves. It is also a clarion call to all to take a closer, deeper look into ourselves and see how best we can make Christmas not just a season, but a Way of Life!