He’s still a baby, much of what he does now will not remain a memory for him but rather a memory for us. So no way I can truly say with conviction that his first Christmas celebration is made special really for him. It’s for us. As parents. And for me, as a first time mom.
I have this special thing I do, every year since I turned 20. I buy a tree decor a year. Every year during Christmas. Yesterday when we bought our first tree as a family, a little bigger in height than our little boy, and while decorating it – every memory flashed before my eyes. Every decoration, a story.
Of course one can scream its consumerism. Sure. This consumerism of decoration (not particularly Christmas decorations) can be traced back to over 2,500 years in ancient civilisations. In Rome for example, decorations were up during a pagan festival called Saturnalia. During Saturnalia homes were decorated in wreaths and evergreen boughs, and a giant feast would be held where gifts were offered to the God/desses. Indian equivalent of something similar would be Diwali (which was either a celebration of harvest or according to Jain tradition lighting lamps on the day of Mahavira’s nirvana in 527 BCE – so the start is debatable). One thing is certain, we love decorating and bringing light into the darkest month of the year.
Needless to say, I – a slave of consumerism – have many decorations, and as mentioned before, each has a story. But writing that would need half a novel dedicated to it – perhaps that can be my new book, “Jingle Bells – Story behind all my Christmas decorations”!!
Anyhow, I have two Santas from Paris, one from Neuchâtel, and one from Kolkata. I told my partner while putting them up, we will never destroy our child’s belief in Santa. It might shift from Santa being a real person to a spiritual binding energy for Christmas – but it remains. There’s reward for goodness and kindness no matter how unexpectedly it comes – it comes. And it is always around this time of the year that I see the tally made. There’s always light at the end of the tunnel, and reward for Karma. It is truly magical. And even Grinch understood at one point what Christmas magic truly is, then why destroy Santa when we believe in Grinch? The darkest month made bearable by faith, hope, love and light.
I remember, with all enthusiasm I would do Christmas countdown from mid November onwards. This irritated many at my art school. Secret be told – some of the most intolerant people are within those walls. Who ever said artists and designers are tolerant forgot their melancholic mood swings sprinkled with the spice of anger, socialism and competition. All very clashing but thats what being human and being artist is – contradictions. Even with all that contradiction – they couldn’t beat Christmas out of me. It just is… Christmas. The happiest time of the year.
So what did I get this year? Sadly the shop I would go to – every year – to buy my Christmas decorations was not there at the Basler Weihnachtsmarkt this year. It’s the first time I didn’t see it. Broke my heart as I had my eyes set on their handmade Nutcracker figurine used for Christmas-smoke. Anyhow, this year I got something else. Still handmade and wooden. It’s quite perfect in my eyes as it represents love, friendship and home to me.
Can tell you this, as my partner helped me put up some decorations, and lights – for the first time my decorations felt like they found their home. Seeing my partner helping me carry the tree home while it still had ice stuck on it… seeing my boy with his little hands reaching out to grab the tree… this felt home. We both looked at eachother at the end, after our little boy fell asleep in his crib, hand in hand we realised how much we love each-other and how much our little family means to us.
I guess all that is needed at the end is a leap of faith in the face of fear/adversity/nay-sayers and we get that what we manifest.
A Christmas with our little family.
P.s. if you enjoy my content, keep it fuelled, by buying me a coffee, I’ll remember you while having a much needed sip.
ANTHROPOLOGY OF LOVE 