What does Christmas mean to you, son?

It was windy that night. He sat on the half-broken bench waiting for the night to fade away on the wings of dawn. The wind touched his face over and over again and he wondered how it actually felt to be touched. A touch, devoid of any malice or bad intention, a touch, not in the form of a slap or fist but as a pat or a hug. And all that he could do was wonder. He didn’t belong anywhere or to anyone. No place had ever been home and no man had ever been family to him. He was alone and he had always been that way. His first memories were of growing up in the tiny orphanage next to the dilapidated church in a narrow lane of Lucknow. The Church had been built there with no intention or purpose. But it always stood there, erect and desolate waiting for a religious some to acquire elusive moments of peace. Peace, not the one with silence and uncertain thoughts but the one which gave hope and faith to those who wished for it. Though small and fragile, broken and battered, it had successfully pulled off the task of making the few who visited it believe in the Supreme power of God.

He had worked as a small time helper in shops and slept on the road or porches or porticos of several buildings but never on a bed with a mattress or a blanket even in the harsh cold winter. He knew how to read and write, thanks to the little something that the orphanage had given but he was hopeless when it came to mathematics. Sixteen now, he sat on the half-broken bench with the city lights ahead of him, near to the Church where he learnt how to pray and acquire faith to stay alive. The houses in the lane were decorated with paper stars and ribbons bought from a nearby stationery shop and candles shone on every doorstep. While it took him a little time in counting the dates and making a little calculation, he knew that tonight was the only day he ever liked on the calendar. This day marked the food and other gifts that came to the orphanage every year. As a kid, he developed the notion that 25^th December was the only date in the calendar when one man actually loved the other. It was Christmas and even though he had left the orphanage six years back itself, there was something that had pulled him to that very place that night. 

His clothes were damp and his curly locks had grown long and grimy. He smelt of wood and his clothes were torn at places. His eyes had the quietness of the sea and youthfulness shown in them. But they seemed sad, like a soul that had been searching for nothing but ‘faith’. He wanted to cry but his eyes were too dry to shed tears. So he just sat there, watching people getting happy for the birth of Christ while he waited for a little something called ‘love’. Suddenly, a man came and sat next to him. He looked like an older version of the boy. They looked at each other for two seconds and then the boy turned his gaze away concentrating on the lane that lay ahead of him.

‘You’re from around here, son?’

The boy looked around. He then looked at the man who sat next to him and wondered who he had been speaking to. It definitely wasn’t him, he thought considering nobody addressed him as ‘son’ ever. He had always been ‘aye’ or’ yaar’ or ‘chotu’ or any of the wretched names that people give to urchins on the road.

‘I’m asking you son. Are you from around here?’

The voice wanted to come out from his heart. But it got stuck on the bridge of his tongue, afraid to be heard. He furtively glanced around suspecting someone to be playing with him. He could not bring himself to believe that someone had actually called him ‘son’. His eyes turned limpid and he croaked, ‘No Sir’.

The old man nodded and said, ‘Then why do you sit here?’

‘I’m an orphan Sir. I grew up in that little orphanage right next to the Church. Do you see it? But I left it 6 years ago. I’ve been homeless since then. I came here expecting I might get a little to eat. I’m famished Sir.’

‘Homeless, eh? So am I. It’s not that bad if you ask me’- The old man grinned and his crooked teeth showed under his darkened lips. He continued, ‘I don’t have a home either son. And I, to be honest came in search of food too. Hunger…hunger is a wicked thing. I know you’re a boy and deep inside, it saddens you when you think that you’re always on the lookout for food when you should be for happiness. Isn’t it?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘But it’s not that bad son. You’ve got to love yourself. And that one God who’s kept you alive. Do you believe in God son?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘Oh you do, eh? Not bad. A good thing. Today is Christmas. Do you know that?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘What does Christmas mean to you son?’

‘Food Sir. On this day, good food used to come at our orphanage Sir.’

The old man chuckled and sympathized with the boy’s innocence.

‘No son. It is much more than that. This day marks the birth of Jesus Christ. And people celebrate it all over the world. I know it is cold out here, with the wind cutting through our skin and the dampness of dew makes it worse, but it’s still Christmas son. And this day has always meant much more than food or new clothes or gifts wrapped in flashy papers. Jesus was born on this day and gifts were given to him by the three kings. But this is a meaningful day. At least for me.’

‘How is it meaningful Sir?’

‘Well. I’ve never seen anyone ‘hate’ on this day. There’s a little magic in the air. People are happy and celebration is on their mind. I am never afraid to ask for a little share of food from anyone on Christmas. Every shop is decorated. Every shopkeeper makes a profit. People set out to donate to homeless people, orphanages, old-age homes and what not. Ever seen the Cathedral Church in Hazratganj? Oh what a sight! And the carols. Yes, they’re good too. Ah, in my 72 years of life, I’ve felt happiness in the atmosphere only on Christmas.’

The boy smiled. ‘Where do you live Sir?’

‘I don’t have a permanent home. I mean…I used to. I’m an old man now but there is still strength in these limbs of mine, you see. And that’s what keeps me on. Coming to the talk of Christmas son, people don’t understand. The way they become, a lot of Jesus loving humans, who boast of humanity and compassion, set out to help people like it was always their one sole aim in life, it’s all for a day. This day tries to teach them every year, ‘This is how you should be’ but once the day is over, the compassion is gone. The love for humanity dies and people get back to the way they were. See these families? They probably don’t get along. The children are fed up of their parents and the parents beat their kids. All those homeless people lying on the street, they are not even seen as humans on normal days. People can’t give away a single rupee to them. When you ask for a loaf of bread because Jesus hasn’t blessed you, they would look away with heartlessness, like the previous day, they had just been sufficing the needs of the occasion. They don’t understand that God is watching them and that they might be in the same predicament as us someday. And their complacent nature makes them believe that by being selfless humans on Christmas has wiped out all their sins. But it’s not so.’

‘On this day, I’d like to go around and tell everyone you know- ‘Friend, be this way. There is a way to be good. A man full of compassion and love for mankind. Make your life worthwhile.’ But things won’t change son. So I like this day. I like families getting happy and celebrating together. I like how people turn compassionate and hospitable on a single day. I like the songs, the decoration, the merry-making and hugs. I like to see the world rejoice for at least day. This day gives me hope of a person that everyone could become, if they try. And I like that. I really like that.’

They boy listened to him and they shared a moment of silence. The boy was thinking deep, pondering over the man’s words. And even though the man hadn’t disclosed to the boy who he actually was, the latter felt really comfortable in his presence. The man got up and took out fifty rupees from his pocket.

‘Here, I have a fifty. Someone gave it to me. Let’s go, grab a bite. You might be hungry son, isn’t it?’

‘Yes sir. A little.’

‘Come. Let’s go.’

The boy did not know where the man was taking him. But who or what did he fear anyway? He looked at the man and in the cold; they held each other’s hands. He was happy to find a little happiness for a while. He was happy to learn what that day exactly meant. And he had also become aware of the kind of person he was supposed to become, no matter what the circumstances may be. And they walked on the road, silent and calm, happy to have each other’s company.