To me Christmas has always been 'waking up and checking my pillow' for gifts which would include varieties of chocolates , candies and everything a kid would have liked. But yes over the years I did come to know that it was my dad who was the Santa.
Ten years back , i was run down by a scooter while crossing the road being so excited carrying all my gifts. I remember my eye getting blue after that and my mother forcing me to drink milk with turmeric mixed in it.
When i did not find anything near my bed , one early Christmas morning , just could not believe it. I walked down the stairs and saw my mom cooking . I asked her ' if it was Christmas' ( obviously for a reason). Then making use of my acting skills , i went to sleep again. An hour later, twas my dad trying his best not to disturb my sleep and sliding a pack under my pillow.
This morning , today , miles away from my home town , from no where i checked my bed for any gifts when my friend wished me a Merry Christmas. In the process , i revisited all those moments. Feels great!