Baba at Christmas

It was my Catholic mother who first told me the story of Christ and Christmas and I fell in love with Jesus; it was easy considering that my Papa was also called Jesus. I was a little girl then, not much older to Aarzoo. I hope to tell the story to my daughters someday and hope that I can sow the seeds of peace, joy and hope into their beings too.

As I sit here writing these lines, I think of the Christmases past when in Cochin, we used to have Baba and Amma over for lunch and it became tradition with the family. Parag used to join me in the kitchen and we would rustle up a fairly decent meal with Mummy cooking her special ginger garlic rice and chicken curry. Shibu, dear Shibu, would traipze in just in time for lunch. Baba used to sing a couple of carols and "Silent Night" was mandatory. I still remember the rich baritone of his singing voice and the manner in which the song would resonate with our home; it was as if the angels were playing the harp and bringing in the blessings of the festive season!!

Last year, Baba went away and Christmas was spent with Mano Mama, Lola Memi and Appu at their place in Pune. Amma was there too. The home in Bangalore left bare and no mention of the times in Cochin. I could not take it. Christmas would never be the same again. Would probably have let it be this year as well if it were not for Aarzoo who seemed was very excited at the prospect of attending the various parties in the Complex we live in. She also kept up a steady and ever increasing in decibel demand that I put up our Christmas tree. I did and it was well worth the effort just to see the delight in her face. Must say she did irritate me a hell of a lot with her constant singing; songs she made up for the most part set to the tune of jingle bells!!

The other reason I made a big deal about Christmas this year was because I wanted to sock it in the face of all the violence that has been a part of our lives. For Kauser, for the victims of Kandamal, for those who survived and live in relief camps, for those who fell to bullets and those that survived in Mumbai, for the victims of riots and war across the world. Against hatred that seems to consume us. Turn us into beasts of the worst kind. For my own soul and for the love that threatens to leave my being.

We had Tulsi and Appu over for lunch; a celebration of their love for each other. Kusum Bojawa came too after much cajoling; it is always such a delight to have her over. Runa, Samrat and Aditya, who are family now and a joy to be with, followed. Tripti didi graceful and beautiful as ever was the last to arrive. It was a happy time with much laughter and teasing, much shrieking from the little ones and a heavy meal. I missed Amma and Manoj who is on holiday in Cochin. Missed Shibu, Santosh and Bisu and Cochin and the times past when life was different. But I did hear the baritone in the background and knew in my heart that Baba was here today and had brought with him the angels and their harps to bless our home. And keep my soul from being consumed by hatred.