All around me, people are in wake of a bitter winter, all in their own different ways. The rich throng the malls and try expensive, ridiculous winter collections. The poor cover their houses with more sacks, look for more twigs and branches in this concrete jungle. The IT people count the vouchers they get for winter shopping, the college people look forward to the Christmas break.
They say winter is the season of preparation, of love. Winter teaches the lesson of closeness and belongingness, of reveling in what and who you have - against what you would want to have. Winter is ancient because it freezes everything except time. Winter is hard and strong.
Winter reminds me of my dad, and every single time that he asks me - My dearest, it's Christmas time! I wish to see your lovely face next to the holy infant in the manger. I want to see you put up the star, I want to dance with you once again on merry carols...
Every time I plan and fail, I fall prey to one temptation after the other. This year too, I won't go. I will not be there to see the dancing light in his eyes. I will not kiss his weather-toughened skin and say Merry Christmas Daddy!" All I will say is -
Dad, I won't be back this Christmas too
Don't wait for me, I'm not coming to you
Put up the star on big old tree again
Place the holy Infant, say my name.
Think I am with you, holding your hand
Waltzing to tunes of the Christian band
Gather the street kids, give them my love
Send them a Santa cake and a pair of gloves
Beat your best drum like we always did
Tap your foot as the merry kids sing
As you sit in the chapel at the first bell gong
Close your eyes, remember Mom's song
Let the tears fall, let them wash away
But for me dear Daddy, smile and say - Merry Christmas!
