Santa’s Secret {End}

 

‘Good Morning Sir!’ I greet my boss as I enter his cabin.

‘Good Morning.’ He welcomes me with a warm smile.

‘Sir, I have been waiting for you since morning.’ I say.

‘Oh! I see.’ He answers coldly.

‘Is everything Ok?’ I ask.

‘Yes! Boy.’ He says. ‘You’re a very nice guy, I must say. You work very hard.’

His tone is very different. You don’t give a good news that way rather console someone. I become anxious. ‘Sir, is there a problem?’

‘Well not really. Perhaps, I have two news for you. One good or bad.’

I frown by this time. I can feel a big lump in my throat already. My eyes become teary. ‘Don’t tell me sir that I am not going to US.’ I cry.

He looks at me with a sad expression and then nods.

‘No Sir. It can’t be. Say you’re just kidding.’ I glare at him with a hope but he looks away. Tears now roll down my cheeks.

‘C’mon! It’s not a big deal. We will send you next time.’

‘You’re wrong, Sir. It was never a deal. It was about my life.’ I bawled at him.

‘Makhija!’ He shouts at me. ‘Behave yourself. We wanted you to go but then your name didn’t come in Visa lottery.’

Now you know why I hate my surname. Anyways, that’s not important right now what’s important and perhaps disastrous is that my dreams are shattered due to some stupid lottery. Destiny! You’re an asshole. No US, No gym, no salad, no money, no home, no car and finally no Reema. I have only felt this bad when I had lost my mother.

‘Makhija!’ My boss shakes me as I am lost in my own tragedy. God can’t be that cruel.

‘Yes Sir!’ I wipe my tears.

‘I told you there is a good news too.’ He adds but then as if I care. Even if he says that Sachin is coming back from retirement, it can’t fill up for my loss.

‘Hmm…’ I grunt.

‘We have acknowledged your performance and have given you a bonus of 1 lakh. By the time you reach home, the money shall be deposited in your account.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ I take a leave.

I rush to washroom. I can’t control my tears anymore. Perhaps, when I reach and I burst in tears. Boys who say that they don’t cry actually have never seen dreams because when those dreams break, the pain is enormous. It just not breaks your heart but breaks your soul too. I am moaning like a cow inside the washroom. The warm tears had dried up and I am feeling thirsty now. I come outside the loo and find couple of guys standing there. I look at them in sheer embarrassment, they had all heard me crying inside. I try to sneak way.

‘Pankaj Sir!’ Someone calls me.

I turn to find the office boy. ‘Yes!’

‘HR madam ne bola hai ki apko Santa Claus banna hai.’

I snap at him but then he was just a poor fellow doing his job and there was no point that I take out my frustration over him, after all I am a nice guy. Perhaps, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. May be God has some better plans for me, I console myself. It was actually better if I accept my destiny and move on. I have always believed that no matter what job you’ve been given, you must always give your best. Perchance, it seemed the best way to get over my pain.

I take the dress with me and wear it. Some other people from the HR team comes to help me with the make-up. I smile and co-operate with them. In some time, I am ready in my new role as Santa.

I stroll around the office ringing the bell and shouting ‘Ho Ho! Merry Christmas.’ I distribute chocolates and gifts to the employees. Two girls from HR had accompanied as Santa’s helper. Everyone is happy to see which makes me feel very important for the occasion. They call me, they greet me, they ask me for gifts and finally take selfies with me. I happily pose with them. I feel like a celebrity. I didn’t know that being Santa was so cool. I think I do this job every year.

But then there is an announcement for everyone to gather in lobby. Everyone reaches there. One guy from network is ready with his guitar. Once everyone is settled, he starts strumming the strings and begins singing ‘Chura liya.’ Girls awe for him as he continues singing. Perhaps they cheer for him and want him to sing more. Suddenly, people forget about me. They don’t want to take selfies with me anymore.

I frown again. Actually, all that applause wasn’t for me but for my dress and the occasion. I realize, I am still the same loser behind the mask. I seriously wonder if just having a good heart and being nice is enough in this world. May be not. A human mind desires more. Can a guy like me ever find love?

***

Office ends soon. Everyone leaves for home, so do I. But before going home, I had to visit this studio, to return the Santa dress. The HR bitch handed it to me as the studio was near my place. Anyway, I already had a bad day. I laugh as I realize that it was supposed to be my greatest day. I shake my head and walk to the station. I am actually upset, very upset.

I board my regular train but suddenly that trains seems more packed, more noisy and more rude. I notice people are staring at me weirdly as if everyone hate me. They don’t give me way rather shout at me if I mistakenly touched them. I wonder, they all had known about my failures. How can I really make someone around me like me. I don’t know.

I finally get a seat. I sit there yet I feel a strange discomfort around me. The train seemed to have slowed down automatically. The way to home seems never ending. I suffocate there. I hid my face in my palms. I pray that I reach home as soon as possible.

‘Bhaiya! Merry Christmas.’

I look up to find a small kid selling Santa key chains. I smile. He smiles back. I take a Key chain and ask him the price, he says Rs. 20. I pay him. He seems so happy. I ask him where he stays, he says Ambedkar Ashram. It is an orphanage near my home. I feel bad about him. I buy ten more key chains. He becomes so happy. He even invites me to come with to their orphanage, this year they are actually celebrating Christmas as some has donated a huge cake.

I don’t know why but I accompany him. And when I reach there, I see so many kids like him there. All were dressed to their best clothes. There was a minimal decoration around yet the kids were so excited. I even see two torn socks hanging. Probably for Santa. I am been introduced to the manager there, she too welcomes me. The kid who brought me there tells her that I bought ten key chains. She thanks me.

We all gather in the main hall, the cake is brought. It is not big rather not even sufficient for all but then it isn’t about eat the cake, it is about celebrating the festival which these kids know so well. I never thought that a little cake can do wonders. As a little girl cuts the cake everyone cheer for her. She seems so happy. I give her one chocolate from my office.

‘Are you Santa?’ She asks.

I shake my head.

‘I wish he was here. I wanted some gifts.’

‘What you want.’ I ask.

‘I would have asked for new clothes for everyone. These clothes are all old.’

‘Don’t you want anything for yourself?’

She shakes her head. ‘This frock was just given to me in Diwali.’ She smiles.

I am moved. She must be hardly six year old yet she was so generous to wish for everyone and there was I, selfish moron who was upset because he could not go to US. That little girl was happy for a frock which was given to her in Diwali. She is happy with what she has and now she wants something for friend. What great lesson she taught me!

I so wish I could do something for her, I prayed. And God just heard me. My phone beeped and there was a SMS from bank that one lakh rupees has been deposited to my account as performance bonus.

And one hour later….

‘Ho ho! Merry Christmas.’ The Santa Claus has arrived.

***

I return just before dinner after returning my Christmas costume in the studio. The greatest day in my life was just coming to an end. I never thought that buying few gifts for those orphan kids will probably give me so much of love. I still can’t get over the peck that the little girl gave me and said – ‘I love you Santa. You’re the best.’ It gave a sense of happiness which I think even US ticket wouldn’t have given. I have realized my mistake. I should stop complaining and get on with my life with a faith in God. He has plans for everyone.

I give a key chain to my nephew. He is so happy to get it.

‘Mama, you know I have put these stockings on the balcony for Santa.’ He tells me.

‘Really? Show me.’

‘Wait! Let me see where is dad? If he sees us, he will get angry. He says there is nothing called Santa. No one has ever seen him. He doesn’t exist.’

‘Well… He doesn’t know then. If he says like that next time ask if he has seen god ever. If no, then why he prays to God daily. If Santa doesn’t exist then so do Gods.’

He returns me a blank look. Anyway, he ignores and shows me the stalking. We talk a lot that day. I even give him my mobile to play. He sleeps playing games. I cover him with bed sheet and then go to balcony to keep a gift in the hanged stockings.

‘So this is how Santa looks.’ Didi teases me. She might have heard me talking to her son before.

‘Well… Didi, it’s not about the God vs Santa. It’s about hope vs desires. Greed vs faith.’

‘Oh god! When did you turn a philosopher?’

‘C’mon Didi! All I want to say that if having a faith on Santa and God can make people happy then let them be. What is God to you, it is Santa to me and these kids. You see, he has plans for everyone, you just need to have faith on him.’

‘Oh really? Then what Santa is planning for you?’

‘I really wonder if she will fit in the bag with Santa carries.’ I pause to see Didi. She looks baffled. ‘Anyway, merry Christmas.’