It’s almost time for Christmas!
I am a Hindu and this is technically not my festival. Although one could argue that in India, all festivals belong to all of us. But I have always loved books and Christmas to me is about all of this:
- The March girls giving away their breakfast to a hungry family.
- Hercule Poirot solving a murder.
- Buying plum cakes from Wenger’s Bakery in Connaught Place – which has nothing to do with books at all!
But these days, it seems to be mostly about shopping and stress.
Our Diwali celebrations are very homey. We make sweets and savouries. We draw rangolis and light lamps. It is the one day of the year that we all pray together. And then we take our pot over to a potluck with our friends and eat and play cards. Because Diwali is not just the festival of lights but also dedicated to Lakshmi, the Goddess of wealth and winning at cards on Diwali is considered super auspicious.
But just as crackers and pollution are to Diwali, shopping is to Christmas.
Of course in our consumerist world all festivals are mostly about these things, but Christmas more than all others seems inextricably linked with shopping and gift wrapping. For most of us bystanders at least. But the other day, I got a taste of a real Christmas celebration.
It was the last day of school before the kids started their winter break and their school had planned a Christmas party. We moms then got together and put one up of our own. We pot lucked it, and gathered in one child’s home. We sang carols and the children played. We all ate lots of healthy, home cooked food, played secret Santa with only one gift per child and went home. Sounds like nothing much but it felt like Christmas. And a big reason for this, was the venue.
The house where our party was held started out in life as what in Delhi, we call a barsaati. One room on the terrace. This terrace now, was watched over by a giant tree. And fringed by plants growing in every sort of recycled container including discarded commodes and old shoes! In the middle of all this was a wooden table with a bench on either side where the kids ate their lunch. And there were baskets to shoot into and punching bags and all manner of things for the kids to play with.
Meanwhile the house itself, seemed to have grown organically one room at a time on a need basis. The only rule I could see was that the house should accommodate family. So the kitchen was big and opened onto the dining room which had one big wooden table for all the family to gather round and maybe do their home and office work and chat with whoever was cooking that day. The living room had no ornaments, no paintings, nothing whatsoever that could be broken. And the bedrooms, we were told, were added as the family grew.
What a completely wonderful way to live! I could not do it. I don’t think I am acquisitive or very materialistic, but I do like buying keepsakes when I travel and I have always been very house proud. I don’t think I could be otherwise but I wish I could. Because what a brilliant way to live. Keeping things so very simple. Figuring out what matters to you the most and making it the most important thing to centre the rest of your life around.
We learn something new each day and for all my blabbing about minimalism and the environment, this is one thing I could work on. But no more preaching.
Just Joy to the World! Sing along, folks.
Happy Holidays everyone!