Christmas memories
One of the most fascinating things about growing up in a multicultural housing society like ours was the enhanced festival fun which lasted all year round. Not only did we celebrate all the hindu festivals starting from Sankrant and Gudi Padwa all the way down to the big D, but we also partook in the many Punjabi/Sindhis, Parsi, Muslim and Christian festivals all round the year.
Christmas was a particular favourite because there were not one or two, but five Christian families in the building. That meant more homes to visit and more sweets to devour.
Mrs. M on the first floor was a retired English teacher who privately tutored children in one part of her double flat. Come Christmas, she would hang strings of colourful Christmas cards outside her double doors and put up the most magnificent tree at the entrance. Sometimes, if we were lucky and none of her tuition students had foiled her mood, we would be treated to red sherbet and generous helpings of plum cake on small tiffin plates.
P & P, two brothers on the second floor were the shining "stars" of our building. Brilliant in studies, great athletes, good sports, and generally good-natured boys. Very popular in both indoor-outdoor games and always our benchmark for school grades. In fact, my fascination with computers started largely due to the many hours we spent in their home playing with those early chess and Prince of persia games and ogling at other interactive software. Christmas holidays at P & P's was always special for the movie marathon/ indoor board games/ computer fun afternoons and also due to the fact that on every Christmas eve their Church group would come carol singing to their home all equipped with Santa and sweets!
The Senior Mrs. B was a congenial old grandmother who lived with her son's family on the first floor. For a long time, she was the oldest lady I knew who could speak English and that made her a very sophisticated woman in my kiddie eyes. She was always full of good cheer, showering warm blessings on anyone she met on her evening walk. Days in advance of Christmas, the good old lady and the younger Mrs. B would spend hours in their kitchen conjuring several aromas that would often interrupt our games on the ground floor. And I would sigh contentedly with my mysterious Monalisa-esque smile, knowing fully well that some of those goodies were sure to land on my table on Christmas day.
The other Christian auntie on the third floor was something of a terror. Mrs. Br lived alone for the better part of the year, which probably explained her bitter nature. She would scowl and threaten to call the police if we made too much noise on her landing. Her's was the one house we skipped asking for water on hot summer afternoons, even if on the verge of death. But one Christmas something very special happened. Mrs. Br was visited by her lovely granddaughters, B & D, who by virtue of being our age became instant hits among the group. Cool micro-mini-skirts, cool hairdos, pop & heavy metal fans each who had flown in all by themselves from Dubai, made them some sort of demi-goddesses among us. That Christmas, we were introduced to hot music and cool phrases. Just when we thought it was the best Christmas ever, they decided to distribute their fantastic song collection among us and invited us to Mrs. Br's home one afternoon to choose among the albums. But entering flat no. 302 was nothing short of a nightmare. Horror stories abounded about what Mrs. Br did to pesky kids who dared to knock on her door. Not one person turned up. The sisters were hopping mad. They organised a Christmas bash at the poor old woman's apartment and dared us to attend. Tempted by 80's pop and tons of cola and chips, we were quickly converted from frightened puppies to hip banging junkies. Just for one night. The next week the girls were gone, the magic was over and Mrs. Br retrieved her lost reputation.
Last but not the least, was my favourite Christmas family on the 5th floor, The P's, with whom I spent many a teenage Christmas. S was my best friend and closest confidante while growing up. I simply *had to be there* for decorating her home a week in advance. Each year, her dad would fly down from Kuwait and brings box loads of goodies and dazzling Christmas decorations, the likes of which I had only seen in American movies! We typically started with red and silver ribbons on the ceilings, set up the crib with her old Nativity dolls, decked up the tree and finished off with the star outside the window. As a reward for all our efforts, Auntie would bring out the homemade sweets and we would sneak in the bedroom and share funny stories and "secrets" while gorging on plates full of chocolates and cookies and malpua and cakes. The highlight of the season was Auntie's Christmas Chicken biryani enjoyed with great gusto on 25th evening, followed by a big helping of homemade chocolate cake. Festival non-vegetarian food was quite non-existent at my place, except perhaps, the Indian version of All Souls Day, which wasn't much of a "celebration" really. Anyway, I drank my first goblet of wine with this family. Once, when Uncle couldn't come home for Christmas, Auntie decided to visit him instead. S, however, was so insistent that she wouldn't spend Christmas without me, that her mum was forced to leave her back in *my* care for 16 days. We would eat at my home (which was on the 7th floor) and spend all day watching movies, surfing the net or simply chatting time away in her empty house. For Christmas, we converted the living room into a mini-discotheque with fairy lights on the tree and everywhere else and invited all the building kids over. We collected money for food and cold drinks and had a blast of a time!
The most important day in our Housing society's calendar was the 31st of Dec. That evening, every year, the grown-ups would organise a huge party from the common funds and we children were in charge of the entertainment. So, a month in advance, songs were selected, dance routines practiced and costumes prepared. It was our own personal show. From 20 minute chayyageets to funny Ramayana or detective plays, we churned out first rate entertainment. Then, there were fancy dress competitions, antakashiri rounds, Ek Minute games and lots of other things to do. However, at one point, a few members felt since they couldn't attend the building party and their business parties outside, the 31st New Year's party was moved to Christmas day. Although, we were initially saddened by this change, it turned out to be as good a party as any other, and all the society children gathered to make it a wonderful success.
Then, when I moved to Bangalore, the Christmas party the group celebrated much before I joined them, was yet another fun thing to do. There was good food, good music, lots of dance and yes, the Secret Santa. New Year's was spent chasing sunsets on broken bikes in Goa.
So this year, as Christmas came nearer, I decided to incorporate some of that fun into our quiet holiday so far from home. We started the day with making dosas for brunch, watched lots of movies and wrapped the day with a sumptuous Chicken biryani. There were cakes and cookies too, just that they didn't last until Christmas. :)
I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and wish you a terrific 2008 ahead!
Christmas was a particular favourite because there were not one or two, but five Christian families in the building. That meant more homes to visit and more sweets to devour.
Mrs. M on the first floor was a retired English teacher who privately tutored children in one part of her double flat. Come Christmas, she would hang strings of colourful Christmas cards outside her double doors and put up the most magnificent tree at the entrance. Sometimes, if we were lucky and none of her tuition students had foiled her mood, we would be treated to red sherbet and generous helpings of plum cake on small tiffin plates.
P & P, two brothers on the second floor were the shining "stars" of our building. Brilliant in studies, great athletes, good sports, and generally good-natured boys. Very popular in both indoor-outdoor games and always our benchmark for school grades. In fact, my fascination with computers started largely due to the many hours we spent in their home playing with those early chess and Prince of persia games and ogling at other interactive software. Christmas holidays at P & P's was always special for the movie marathon/ indoor board games/ computer fun afternoons and also due to the fact that on every Christmas eve their Church group would come carol singing to their home all equipped with Santa and sweets!
The Senior Mrs. B was a congenial old grandmother who lived with her son's family on the first floor. For a long time, she was the oldest lady I knew who could speak English and that made her a very sophisticated woman in my kiddie eyes. She was always full of good cheer, showering warm blessings on anyone she met on her evening walk. Days in advance of Christmas, the good old lady and the younger Mrs. B would spend hours in their kitchen conjuring several aromas that would often interrupt our games on the ground floor. And I would sigh contentedly with my mysterious Monalisa-esque smile, knowing fully well that some of those goodies were sure to land on my table on Christmas day.
The other Christian auntie on the third floor was something of a terror. Mrs. Br lived alone for the better part of the year, which probably explained her bitter nature. She would scowl and threaten to call the police if we made too much noise on her landing. Her's was the one house we skipped asking for water on hot summer afternoons, even if on the verge of death. But one Christmas something very special happened. Mrs. Br was visited by her lovely granddaughters, B & D, who by virtue of being our age became instant hits among the group. Cool micro-mini-skirts, cool hairdos, pop & heavy metal fans each who had flown in all by themselves from Dubai, made them some sort of demi-goddesses among us. That Christmas, we were introduced to hot music and cool phrases. Just when we thought it was the best Christmas ever, they decided to distribute their fantastic song collection among us and invited us to Mrs. Br's home one afternoon to choose among the albums. But entering flat no. 302 was nothing short of a nightmare. Horror stories abounded about what Mrs. Br did to pesky kids who dared to knock on her door. Not one person turned up. The sisters were hopping mad. They organised a Christmas bash at the poor old woman's apartment and dared us to attend. Tempted by 80's pop and tons of cola and chips, we were quickly converted from frightened puppies to hip banging junkies. Just for one night. The next week the girls were gone, the magic was over and Mrs. Br retrieved her lost reputation.
Last but not the least, was my favourite Christmas family on the 5th floor, The P's, with whom I spent many a teenage Christmas. S was my best friend and closest confidante while growing up. I simply *had to be there* for decorating her home a week in advance. Each year, her dad would fly down from Kuwait and brings box loads of goodies and dazzling Christmas decorations, the likes of which I had only seen in American movies! We typically started with red and silver ribbons on the ceilings, set up the crib with her old Nativity dolls, decked up the tree and finished off with the star outside the window. As a reward for all our efforts, Auntie would bring out the homemade sweets and we would sneak in the bedroom and share funny stories and "secrets" while gorging on plates full of chocolates and cookies and malpua and cakes. The highlight of the season was Auntie's Christmas Chicken biryani enjoyed with great gusto on 25th evening, followed by a big helping of homemade chocolate cake. Festival non-vegetarian food was quite non-existent at my place, except perhaps, the Indian version of All Souls Day, which wasn't much of a "celebration" really. Anyway, I drank my first goblet of wine with this family. Once, when Uncle couldn't come home for Christmas, Auntie decided to visit him instead. S, however, was so insistent that she wouldn't spend Christmas without me, that her mum was forced to leave her back in *my* care for 16 days. We would eat at my home (which was on the 7th floor) and spend all day watching movies, surfing the net or simply chatting time away in her empty house. For Christmas, we converted the living room into a mini-discotheque with fairy lights on the tree and everywhere else and invited all the building kids over. We collected money for food and cold drinks and had a blast of a time!
The most important day in our Housing society's calendar was the 31st of Dec. That evening, every year, the grown-ups would organise a huge party from the common funds and we children were in charge of the entertainment. So, a month in advance, songs were selected, dance routines practiced and costumes prepared. It was our own personal show. From 20 minute chayyageets to funny Ramayana or detective plays, we churned out first rate entertainment. Then, there were fancy dress competitions, antakashiri rounds, Ek Minute games and lots of other things to do. However, at one point, a few members felt since they couldn't attend the building party and their business parties outside, the 31st New Year's party was moved to Christmas day. Although, we were initially saddened by this change, it turned out to be as good a party as any other, and all the society children gathered to make it a wonderful success.
Then, when I moved to Bangalore, the Christmas party the group celebrated much before I joined them, was yet another fun thing to do. There was good food, good music, lots of dance and yes, the Secret Santa. New Year's was spent chasing sunsets on broken bikes in Goa.
So this year, as Christmas came nearer, I decided to incorporate some of that fun into our quiet holiday so far from home. We started the day with making dosas for brunch, watched lots of movies and wrapped the day with a sumptuous Chicken biryani. There were cakes and cookies too, just that they didn't last until Christmas. :)
I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and wish you a terrific 2008 ahead!