Hey Father Christmas,
It's your season again. I am surprised how the year went by so quickly. Blink of an eye, you see! So much has happened this year. I thought 2020 was memorable. I just realised 2022 took it's crown right away from the memory lane.
You know, I don't feel the thrill of the festival. The cold winter wind guided my grandmother and death reaper's sleigh to the Afterlife. The funeral itself is on 25th. I can't even bear the sight of baked goodies, knowing she loved eating them.
Santa, you always were a source of joy for me. At least in my childhood you were. I never thought you were any different from any other Indian festivals but this time...you feel so foreign. Maybe it's not your fault but the mourning is not allowing me to correlate with the millions who are basking in the vibe of festivity. I believe it's just my tangled up mental state.
Ya know, it's so cold. Yes, it doesn't snow here as the latitudes and longitudes go but the temperature is down to an unusual 20°C. Usually it's 40°C in India during summer. My nose is red. Any vacancies to be a part time reindeer? Haha. I am kidding.
I should thank you though. The oranges are so sweet this year; the jaggery so savoury and melty and of course the roses in mom's garden are so sweetly fragrant. I know it's your magic, Santa. You are everywhere present. Even if it doesn't snow enough in Kolkata for your sleigh to slide.
I couldn't smile this Christmas, I know. But please let them smile who wait for this time year long. Keep my granny well. She had a tendency to feel colder than it was. Tell her, her granddaughter loves her.
I'll write later. Again, next Christmas. See you, Santa.
Yours truly,
Ś
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Open Confessions
RandomWell, our hearts get heavy of carrying so much emotion around. So much emotional baggage is hard to express via conversation. Being selfish enough, I want to write those sad confessions here. I hope some of you feel that you are safe here and not t...
