If Santa Could Truly Distribute Happiness
Vivek Ranjan Shrivastava
Santa in the red cap arrived a little late this time. Perhaps even he now has to stand in long queues at petrol pumps for his reindeer, and the moment he leaves the North Pole, he has to get his Fastag recharged at toll plazas. The old tradition of slipping down chimneys frightens him now, because below him stay awake the eyes of CCTV cameras, and on the wall shines the warning that you are under surveillance. In such a situation, any sensible Santa finds it safer to ring the doorbell and quietly leave. We remain asleep, Santa walks away with his gifts, and perhaps that is why, to fool ourselves with a few moments of artificial happiness, we ourselves wrap gifts and place them under our fake Christmas trees.
The world of children has also changed. Now they want data packs more than chocolates, so that they can live-track their gifts and pray that the signal does not drop while Santa is on the way. Adults have gone even further. They have bought their Christmas trees on EMI, and the lights blinking on them look like stock-market graphs, sometimes rising, sometimes falling, and with every flicker the heart skips a beat, wondering whether the next installment will be paid on time.
On Santa’s sleigh, advertisements now run more than magic. Multinational company logos are pasted on his red clothes as if they have become his new Aadhaar identity. He no longer opens a sack, he swipes cards, and in many places directly transfers money into bank accounts so that along with people’s faith, their votes and support also remain secure. In poor settlements, on the very day Santa arrives, the electricity goes off. Darkness itself becomes their gift wrapper, and children think perhaps this is the new kind of packaging.
Leaders around the world also become Santa several times a year. Sweet voices, red ties, and sacks full of promises but empty inside. Someone promises peace, someone shows dreams of reforms, but their reindeer graze in fields where nothing has been left anymore. Their sleigh bells keep ringing, and the public keeps sliding lower and lower on the slippery ice of hope.
Santa is now troubled by global warming. The snow is melting and his territory is shrinking. Perhaps that is why he has started spending more time in the stock market than at the North Pole. He now slides down not snowy slopes but falling share prices and gets stuck in the chimneys of trust. Gold prices are rising, Santa cannot even sleep, yet staying awake is difficult.
The real question is not whether Santa will come or not. The real question is why we still wait for some Santa or saint to perform miracles for every problem. Do we really need a man in a magical cap to reduce our inflation, pack away our unemployment, and wrap our responsibilities in gift paper. Or do we need that self-confidence which reminds us that there is no shortcut to hard work.
Because Santa’s job was not to provide comforts, but to inspire. He showed the path and left the responsibility of choosing the destination to us. But we became so used to looking towards Santa in every difficulty that we forgot that in reality we ourselves wrap the gifts and place them under our own trees. Children can be entertained for a while, but the dark alleys of life cannot be lit forever by artificial glitter.
And even if Santa returns, he would probably smile and say that he is only a symbol. Happiness, peace, equality, and lasting relief have to be created by you yourselves. I can only ring the bell for you, you have to walk the road yourself.
The real takeaway of this satire is to give up the habit of waiting, to cultivate the courage to ask questions, to remove the wrapping of promises and see the truth, and to pull the sleigh of your own world yourself, because in today’s times, not Santa, but awareness itself is the greatest gift
