Christmas Bells

Once again, father was transferred. This time
to the sleepy town of Palai in Kerala.
On arrival at Palai, we moved into a house,
surrounded by banana trees, beds of tapioca,
roses and chrysanthemums. Bordering them were
a dozen coconut palms, reaching out to the stars
in the sky.
I pranced round the house, exploring every
nook and corner.
My mother was busy unpacking the cartons
and arranging the various articles in the proper
places.
I was bored. I picked up a rubber ball and went
into the garden.
I ran round the garden chasing the ball or
watching squirrels scramble up the trees or
observing the humming bees.
The ball which I kept bouncing up and down
went over the parapet into the compound of the
neighbouring house. I saw a little boy, almost my
age, rushing out and collecting the ball. He rolled
his eyes, put out his tongue and teased me. I
did not like his attitude. I too rolled my eyes and
stuck out my tongue at him.
"Why did you throw the ball into my house?"
he asked loudly.
"I did not throw it. It came by itself," I
replied.
"Then let it come back by itself. I won't give it
to you."
"I will snatch it from you."
Try.
I climbed up the parapet, jumped over it and
chased the boy. He ran off, turning and twisting,
weaving his way through the thick vegetation. I
raced round the garden after him. At last, after
ten minutes of running around, we sank down,
panting for breath.
"I am Raman," I broke the ice.
"Thomas," he offered his hand.
"Glad to meet you."
"Let us be friends."
"All right. I need a friend."
That was the beginning of an association that
soon developed into a close and intimate friendship.
We spent all our time together, eating from the
same plate, playing hide and seek, chasing butterflies,
climbing trees, plucking unripe mangoes
and sinking our teeth into the slightly sour pulp.
Occasionally we fought like cats and dogs, clawing
and tearing at each other, only to forget our
differences soon, swearing never to fight again.
Nights were the hardest for us. Then we were
pulled apart. We had to be carried away by force
by our parents, while we raved and kicked and
cried to be left to ourselves.
Thomas told me all about Christmas. I listened
to him, fascinated. He told me that Christmas
came in the last week of December. He invited
me to spend Christmas Eve with him.
I looked forward eagerly for Christmas to come.
I associated it with new clothes, sweet dishes,
happiness and celebration.
Thomas suddenly became docile. I did not like
this change. I threw dust on his clothes. Still, he
kept on smiling. I threw a stone at him. He winced
with pain. But, he did not retaliate. He only
said, "I wish I could hit you back."
"Why don't you do it, then?" I teased him.
"Because I must be good and obedient. Only
then will I get a gift from Father Christmas."
I too wanted a gift from Father Christmas,
whoever he was. I meekly asked, "Thomas, will
he give me a gift too?"
"Only if you are good," Thomas said in a superior
tone.
Thomas and I waited eagerly for Christmas to
come. We did not misbehave. We obeyed our
parents. We gave up chasing squirrels. We gave
up fighting.
It was a long wait for us.
At last, Christmas Eve came.
Dressed in my best, I ran over to my friend's
house. His father, Mr. Jacob, took me by the arm.
He led me round the house. Thomas accompanied
me. I saw the gaily decorated Christmas tree.
Tiny flames at the tips of the candles danced with
the mild breeze that wafted along.
Myriad candles threw gentle shadows and
changed shapes with the flickering of the flame.
Paper bunting and ornate cardboard lamps
peered at us from every corner. Star-shaped lamps
hung from the branches of the trees too.
A jackfruit tree, further away from the house,
stood in the hazy glow cast by a star-shaped light.
We waited for Father Christinas to come.
"When will he come?" Thomas asked his father.
"Wait. He is due any moment now."
"What will he bring for me?" Thomas asked.
"New clothes and sweets."
"For me too?" I asked.
"Of course, for you too, my dear."
Suddenly, Mr. Jacob shouted, "Look, there's
Father Christmas, your own Santa Claus."
We did a double turn and stared in the direction
of the jackfruit tree. What we saw was remarkable.
We saw a bearded man, wearing a
dhoti* and a full sleeved shirt, flashing a bright
"Loin-cloth.

smile, descending from heaven! Over his shoulder
hung a heavy sack. We watched him float down.
Then, we ran towards him, our hearts bursting
with delight.
"Merry Christmas to you, children," Santa
Claus spoke in a gruff but affectionate voice.
"Do you have a cold, Santa?" Thomas queried.
"Yes."
"You must consult our doctor. He will give you
an injection, and you will feel better very soon,"
said Thomas.
"Thank you."
"Where are our gifts, Santa?" Thomas and I
asked almost together. We could not conceal our
curiosity any longer.
Santa Claus smiled, released his hold, and allowed
the sack that hung on his shoulder to slip
down to the floor. He heaved a sigh of relief."It
is too heavy, boys," he muttered.
"Why didn't you engage a coolie?"* Thomas
asked.
"Well, I wanted to bring the gifts for my dear
children myself."
"Oh, come on, Santa, let us have the gifts."
"Wait," Santa untied the string that bound the
sack. He pushed his hand into it and pulled out
a big fat packet and handed it to me.
"Thank you, Santa," I replied happily.
"Porter.
"Here's your gift, Thomas," Santa took out
another packet from the sack and gave it to
Thomas.
Thomas accepted the gift. But he seemed
to have lost interest in it. He suddenly dropped
the packet he had in his hand and tugged at my
shirt. Puzzled, I raised my eyes.
"Look. There's a mole on Santa's nose."
"So what?" I asked.
"Mammen Ammavan* too has a mole on the
nose."
Thomas did not waste words. He bounded up
to Santa Claus and shouted, "Ammavan, when
did you become an agent of God?"
Santa laughed aloud. He took off his flowing
beard. And there he was, our Mammen Ammavan.
"When did you learn to fly?" I asked.
"I can't fly," Mammen Ammavan replied.
"But you flew down from heaven," Thomas
remarked.
"I did. Come I'll show you how I did it."
Mammen Ammavan led us to the foot of the
jackfruit tree. He asked us to look closely at the
branches.
We saw two sturdy men sitting on one of the
branches.
They held in their hands a long rope that reached
down to the ground.
"Uncle.
We were baffled.
We looked at Ammavan.
He smiled. Then, he said, "I climbed up the
tree, along with those two men. I had a rope
round my waist. I put the sack full of presents
on my shoulder. Then I asked them to let me
down, slowly, releasing the rope so that it would
appear to you as if Father Christmas were coming
down from heaven. I arranged it in such a
way that my arrival would be sensational."
"Oh, it was a grand sight! We'll never forget
this evening when a dhoti-c\a.d Santa came down
from heaven, bringing us gifts," Thomas and I
shouted happily and moved back to the house,
trailing behind Mammen Ammavan.