A BITTER CHRISTMAS

Christmas is here once again to heralds -from many other things, the coming new year. Once again, it is time for introspection –and that is the part I hated the most. I hated it because I know it well how I’ve wasted the year, I hated it because I know it well there were many things that I could and should have done, and I hated it because –because I had the best Christmas gift last year and it was taken back.

This year, I got all the time I needed to continue my education but I didn’t, I got the chance to travel around the world (well, at least half the continents) but I let it go, I got some offers which I should have not declined and there are many more that will be and should be lost in the pages of my diary only.

But the year also gives me few things to cheers for, moments and memories that will linger on for the rest of my life. I don’t want to confine those memories to my diary alone, I’d love to remind myself of those moments when I’m down. But, alas, since those moments were blotted by as much bad moments, they will hardly lift my spirit –for optimism is not one of the qualities usually associated with me.

For I am born a pessimist –sarcasms and ironies are the words that I live by. Loneliness is my constant companion and I hate that. But it is a lonely world here and if you ask me, I think your life is as lonely as mine. At least I know what I am talking about –that my senses are intact.

Life in a city has always been lonely. But I never felt as lonely when Christmas approaches. It is the time of the year I missed home the most –with emphasis on home and the things associated with it.

I have a home here in Delhi and most of my close family members are here in Delhi only. We often have a family gathering during the festival seasons including Christmas, still I longed for home and I don’t know, why?

May be life in a city has become so complicated that it is not easy to have some simple and pure fun. One has to go through nightmares just to have some fun and that fun always comes with a price tag. I missed the days when I had pure and honest fun doing the simplest things and those very things that I cannot afford here in the city.

May be the chasms between the privileged and the under-privileged has become so wide that we the under-privileged failed to savour our time and surroundings as we are constantly engrossed with our contempt and envy of the privileged.

Maybe life in itself has become complicated, for, a few years ago, I spent a Christmas back home and still found something missing. May be it’s the price I paid for growing–up, or may be, it got to do with my feeling of belonging neither here nor there.

I don’t want answer for all my questions, for I know I’ll not be willing to accept the answer. But one this is clear that I am a bitter person right now, for Christmas is the time I look back at the harsh reality of my life and it's not easy to be constantly reminded of your failure and missed chances. And this Christmas, I’m especially bitter for I was cheated with a gift last Christmas, which was the best gift that I ever got. It was taken back a few months later and now, tomorrow is Christmas and there’s no chances that I’ll get it back.

Well, may be I should try what a true optimist would do in this situation by saying “Well, at least, I can savour the memories!”

Merry Christmas!

Tags: mizo, zomi, zogam

The Best Christmas Gift

Once upon a time, Christmas is a festival for me. It means lots of gifts, love, holidays, ample of time to play with friends, and a time to feast. I remember what it feels like –being free and care free and oh- spending with friends the hard-earned pennies saved throughout the year just for Christmas and I must say I certainly enjoyed those Christmases. But as they said, that is the age of innocence, and once I grew up; it seems I somehow lost the essence of Christmas along the way.

Nowadays Christmas Eve, rather than being a festival is a time of introspection for me. It is the time when I retrospect and evaluate myself, my family and the world. And I must tell you that of the eight years I spend in New Delhi, there is not a single time when I spent Christmas with dry eyes. The only exception is the time when I spent it back home with my parents in Manipur, -it is too much like Christmas, I cried. And I must also admit, despite all my shortcomings and pathetic life, never once did I shed tear because of my life. You can blame it on my ego, but the thing that makes me cry are also, on a second thought, is all about my big fat ego.

Christmas, to my brother is also a time of introspection. It is the time when he retrospects and evaluates himself, his friends and his foes. And I must tell you that of the eight years I spend in New Delhi with him, there is not a single occasion when he was not drunk. It is the time when he unleashes his angers, frustrations and stresses of the passing year to -none but his family. And that is the time when I cry –not because he hurts me physically but because he remind me what Christmas would be like if I were with my dear Pa and Ma back home.

Every Christmas eve, I would look out at the dark and silent night and feel what it would mean to be free of worries and regrets. What it would mean to be roaming around with friends singing carols in the freezing night, and still sweat? What it would mean to hop from one church to another to taste whose food is better? It may sound a little silly now, but I know what all these feel like at that time. But, I don’t know why is it the silence that I can remember of the Christmases I spent here despite the loud annual argument played on every year in the next room? Why is it the coldness that I’m reminded of when I think of all the previous Christmas despite the heater and, why is it so dark when I think of the dazzling Christmas trees and decoration?

It had become a Christmas tradition for me to run out of the house and spent the night at the nearby park. I would sit, lost, lonely and in total silence if not for the lavas of tear cracking the December frozen cheeks and the whispering wind that echoed the sounds of a heart breaking into thousands pieces. It has been a pretty long time since the moonless night mourned with me in her foggy white.

But living in this great world of the Lord, one can expect miracles everyday, in fact, every moment, as long as you believe. And I never thought that I can spend Christmas without tears! Last Christmas, my brother made a resolution that he will never drink again. True to his word –he didn’t drink a single drop this year. I know he had faced a lot of troubles –he had to part with some of his best friends who are also his drinking partners, have to avoid certain important people and worst of all, he had to fight the greatest demon: his urge.

This year, Christmas Eve is different. No one run around to avoid Christmas at home. We laughed together and prayed together. We sang carols and we feasted. There is no fighting and everyone is too busy to sit near the heater. Yet it is loud, noisy and warm. As the clock approaches midnight, I cannot help standing up on the side to admire my family. Once again, we are one big family! When my brother approaches me later on to enquire about me, I have no ready reply –I wanted to say I love you, I wanted to say thank you, but I just cried and for once, I allowed myself to cry. Tears say more than word. Then I gave him a big hug! Once again, it is Christmas!

Tags: mizo, zomi, zogam