What Does Christmas Mean To Me Poem by Bashyam Narayanan

Christmas just over.

I always remember this event in my life on Christmas.

As a child I was in a town where we had no idea of non-Hindu celebrations or festivals. Any religion or festival we knew was those associated with the big temple located in the middle of the town. We hardly moved out of this square-walled town as kids, but for watching movies and that too under the watchful eyes of our parents.

Dec 25, later I came to know it is Christmas, invariably fell in the middle of holidays that followed half-yearly examinations. The temple would also be busy with a 20-day long festival. Guests used to be there to witness temple festivities during this time. As kids we would be happy as these guests showered love, (may be an obligation)on us, which parents hardly did.

That year, I developed a special love for a guest as he came for the first time. He took me as a guide in all his temple visits and bought for me edibles, (even a cup of hot tea offered free in a tea sale promotion outlet) , but he made it sure that I did not carry anything home to the envy of other kids at home.

He was preparing to leave the town one late evening and looked at me suggestively I would accompany him to the one and a half kilometre away bus stop. I was expecting this and I agreed, looked at my dad for approval, thanks he too nodded.

I was practically running behind him, a tall man. I saw him off after directing to the right bus. He did not forget to drop a 10 paise coin in my pocket just before boarding the bus. Happily I was walking home back. En-route I saw a small crowd around a person singing and the crowd repeating the same. It was in Tamil and I was able to understand that it was in praise of some God. I joined the crowd as the music drew me near. I also sang, but loud enough, to attract the attention of the person in the middle and he asked me to get closer to him. I enjoyed singing with the crowd for sometime.

When I realized I should leave, the main singer asked me to hold my palms together, filled them with, say about 10 pieces of, chocolates. Never once before I came across that many sweets in my hand. I walked towards home finishing chocolates one by one. I had still a few remaining and I gave them to my eldest cousin sister. Naturally the question, from where I got them, followed. I narrated and sang a bit of the song I learnt in the process.

She said "My dear fool, It is Christmas."