‘There is nothing either good or bad, but
thinking makes it so.’ - Shakespeare Yuletide
or Christmastime here in America, I think, is a
magical season that ushers in a welcome festive
environment. It may be rooted in Christian culture,
but to the people at large and to the non-Christians
in particular it is just an enjoyable period placing
no religious constraint on them. It is more of a
commercial venture. No wonder the greeting has,
over the past few decades, shifted from “Merry
Christmas” to “Happy Holidays”.
At a gathering in Los Angeles, where a furious theological
controversy occurred, an infuriated participant
asked a stranger sitting next to him, “Are
you an atheist or a deist?” “Oh, neither
Sir,” was the immediate reply, “I am
a dentist”.
The Time magazine in its latest (Dec. 13) issue
carries a cover story about the mysteries and miracles
relating to the birth of Christ. Even Bible experts,
contends the magazine, “have the greatest
sense of uncertainty even more than the scriptures
about the miracles Jesus performed”. “Indeed,
the Christmas story that Christians know by heart
is actually a collection of mysteries.”
It is best therefore to leave during this season
religious polemics to men in robes and their seminaries.
Laypersons like us could then ‘grab happiness
in the passing moments of life’. It doesn’t
affect our faith and beliefs one bit. But the self-appointed
custodians of faith would jump at the opportunity
to start denigrating anyone partaking in the happiness
of the occasion. They would question you for being
an atheist or a deist. But, discussion is an exchange
of knowledge; argumentation is an exchange of ignorance.
With the arrival of the season, imbued with a multitude
of bright hues and attractions by commercial houses,
the entire cultural scenario undergoes a magical
shift; it turns into a vast banquet to nourish your
senses and your imagination.
The Christmas festivities are rooted in innocuous
mythology. I am also not at all with people even
in this country who consider the festival to be
too commercial, too devoid of any significance or
direction. Be that as it may, it is a thoroughly
enjoyable occasion.
Thanks are due to Charles Dickens for writing “A
Christmas Carol” which presents a picturesque
panorama of Christmas and the spirit of charity,
kindness and compassion underlying it. By far the
best storyteller in English language, Dickens was
unable to sell his scripts and had reached the verge
of penury.
He then wrote A Christmas Carol weaving a marketable
myth. It was published in 1843, the very year the
first Christmas card was published. The myth sold.
It solved his pecuniary problem and gave him the
much-need financial respite to devote his time to
his other immortal novels.
Bulk of the spectacular facets of Christmas - the
Santa Claus, for instance, riding in his reindeer-pulled
sleigh, sneaking into houses through chimneys to
place gifts for children under Christmas trees -
are indeed rooted in myths. But, what a delightful
time Christmas provides to people here, with the
exception of those who, following Horace’s
philosophy of nil admiriri, or the narrow-minded
fanatic’s practice, find fault with each and
every thing.
You see happiness writ large on the faces of people
during the season. What sunshine is to flowers,
smiles are to humanity. They would be greeting even
strangers with a big smile. So many of them are
out shopping for gifts for all their near and dear
ones that in the shopping malls you find them bumping
into each other without their smiles giving way
to frowns. Christmas is treated as the season for
love and affection, of giving and forgiving, of
respect and generosity - all laudable qualities.
A visit to a shopping mall, a department store or
even to the neighborhood convenience store, works
as a tonic to your spirit. Everything is spec and
span clean and polished, every visible space is
beautifully decorated, and counters overflow with
gift items.
Perfumes being much popular as gifts, the cosmetics
departments expand during the season. There would
be a dozen or so perfume bottles open and available
for testing. Splash your self with an expensive
perfume, no eyebrow would rise, the sales girl would
continue to wear a greeting smile. Thanks to the
popularity of perfumes as gifts, people smell great
even a couple of months after Christmas. Anything
wrong with that?
No matter where you go, you find people hurrying
on errands dictated by affection and consideration
for others. Parents and grandparents, almost forgotten
and forsaken during the rest of the year, are remembered,
invited to the Christmas dinner, pampered and showered
with gifts.
Evenings provide a sight for the sore eye. Houses
are decorated with strings of fairy lights; lawns
would be sporting lighted facsimiles of reindeers,
sleighs and Santa Claus. Then, there would be in
the living room of every house that glorious, cone-shaped
Christmas tree with shiny decorations and dancing
lights. The tree elates your spirit. Its steeple
shape spires you emotionally lifting you above the
earthly, mundane thoughts. The mundane, the gifts,
would be lying at the foot of the tree where they
belong.
A green tree, as a symbol of eternal life, has been
worshipped in several pagan cultures. In the Christian
culture, the Germans are said to be the first to
set up in their homes, in the sixteenth century,
fir trees hung with apples representing the Garden
of Eden. In the 19th century, German Prince Albert,
husband of Queen Victoria, is said to have popularized
the custom in England. Yet neither then, nor now,
anything sacrosanct is attributed to the tree; it
is just a piece of decoration.
A few days after Christmas, I saw a tree shorn of
its decorations lying at the curb to be hauled away
by the garbage truck. A dog found it suitable to
lift its leg to. The lady who was walking the dog
was thoroughly indifferent towards this overture
of her dog. She might have even admired this choice
of the dog in preference to the usual electric pole
or the fire hydrant. The tree had evidently little
religious significance.
The myths surrounding the celebrations woven by
the fertile imagination of Charles Dickens and many
others are given little credence even by the five-year
olds of this country. But the sights and sounds
of the festive occasion thrill them as much as their
elders. The fun and the thrills provide the spice
of life and you would be well advised to enjoy the
festivities instead of letting the occasion pass
you by while you ponder over the hair-splitting
arguments of a fanatic.
arifhussaini@hotmail.com (714)-921-9634)
