Christmas Carols

One of those odd thing that this odd family of mine does is to listen to Christmas Carols in this season of Joy and Peace. Old and ancient hymns, German carols, new and contemporary carols, we even have some in French.

I cannot remember how or when this practice started. My parents put on hymns for us during this season ...... on the old Telefunken radiogram. By the time I left for School, I knew all the carols.

Through School and College the practice carried on because we always came home for Christmas, and Christmas was at home.

After I got married, I carried out my Garrard and my records. Sanjoy was not averse to hymns, carols and midnight vigil mass. Children when they came, grew up with the same idea. The strong Catholic upbringing at their Schools and choir singing strengthed the ritual at home.

The story I have not ever told anyone at all goes back to 1977. I was in Delhi and was staying up deadly cold December nights writing my final submission. I was tired, cold and terribly homesick. The only thing that kept me going that December was an old red and grey HMV gramophone.....I think the model was called Fiesta. This ancient piece of junk had come with thebarsati I lived in. (I guess the previous occupant of the room graduated to a better system).

I had records to play on it. It was late and it was cold and I still had to finish that piece of academic nonsense. I was playing Bing Crosby on the player and shutting out non-academic thoughts when there was a soft knock on the flimsy door. It was the press-man from downstairs and his wife. They had come up to listen to the carols. In my wildest dreams I would not have classified them as Christians. Faith and religion is not writ all over a person. They were Goans ... migrated to Delhi. Yes, they were Catholics. Yes, they liked and knew the carols. Most certainly they were homesick. They had brought a roti-subzi dinner for me. I brought out my jam and bread dinner. I made Horlicks in the electric kettle. And we sang carols with Bing Crosby. "White Christmas" and "Blue Christmas" and "Merry Christmas" and everything. In true Christmas spirit.

To me the spirit of Christmas has always included Tony and his wife. And every year when I put on the carols at Christmas time, I always think of them.

I am not a very religious person. Somehow that carol singing session meant a lot to me. Like most things, I kept this bottled up. I think the time has now come for me to reveal why I love carols so . It is not just Ma, nor School, nor family( though all these count, too). One cold Delhi December night had a definite role to play.

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Mohit and an Escalator

Today I went to a nearby shopping mall. I am not very comfortable in these shopping malls. There is a feeling of claustrophobia in these places in spite of the large expanse they occupy. (This in an urban landscape is a crime). I always have to stop and take my breath to get accustomed to the closed space. On one such 'breather' I was watching the series of escalators going up and down. Quite a sight. Quite awe inspiring.

Suddenly I remembered Mohit (for Mohit was his name, I think). I was in College and it was generally assumed I was always at a loose-end. Anybody who wanted any work done from a bill-payment to a dentist trip employed me. Neelum had this little cousin called Mohit visiting the city for the first time, and I had to entertain him most days. He wasn't too bad, and I really did not mind Mohit tagging along. One of the most exciting things we did was to have rides on the RBI escalator. In those days, there were no shopping malls, and to the best of my knowledge the RBI was the only building with an escalator. We went up and down the escalator endless number of times and never tired of it. In those days it surely would have been termed "awwwesome".

How naive we were with such innocent tastes. Escalator rides, tram rides to Joka amidst the Maidan greenery, walking in Dalhousie Square looking for the Old Fort Wall (we did find the plaque), double decker bus rides to the outskirts and back. All such simple and completely marvelous acts left us "awestruck".

Today when I saw a two-year old smartly stepping on to an escalator with a large Coke and a packet of chips in her hand, I thought of Mohit. All of 10 years. Me about 16 years. Having a whale of a time on the RBI escalator. That escalator had us spellbound !!!!!

Today's kids need a Gold ticket to an Inox Harry Potter show. In the 1970's Mohit and Neelum and I needed very little. An afternoon breeze on College Street gave us a high.