The Art of Giving
Sunday, January 28, 2007

Valentine Day's just around the corner and I remember how it used to be when I was in college. There was this huge outlet of Archie' s Gallery opposite my college in Chennai (Chinna ponnunga padippadhu Ethiraja...) and soon after the Christmas-New Year dhamaka finished, the store will get out its Val's Day stuff. There'll be red hearts hanging from the ceiling, syrupy love songs blaring out from the speakers and everywhere there used to be this profusion of stuffed toys, cards, cards and more cards.

It was very tough being single and unattached.

The past six years though, the season of 'giving' is the biggest date in the Christian calendar - Christmas. It took me a long time to figure out why the folks around me got into a tizz at the mention of th C-word; turkey, presents, trees, decoration, anything related to it used to drive them into a frenzy. My driving instructor told me proudly that he was so well prepared for the holiday season, he finished his presents-buying lark by Halloween. I was amazed at that. The whole concept of making a list of presents, the must-have toys for kids and the expensive thingummyjigs for spouses in favour all seemed a bit too excessive to me. There should be some actual joy in giving, surely?

The actual day, when it dawned, must seem really anti-climatic after all the hullabaloo but swapping presents must surely make up for it, I thought naively. But this year, one of my colleagues got a 'present' that made everything else pale in comparison. Her brother had got her a goat for Christmas - well, she didn't really get it, it was given to some poor and deserving folk in a far-off land in her name. I was about to say 'oh jolly good thought' but catching sight of her expression, I swallowed the words. I realised then that there is more to this present giving than I had paid any attention to.

From what I can see, the guidelines generally are as follows:
1.If you are buying for a girl, the price tag is the last thing you must check out. The more flattering, the more eye-catching, the better. This especially holds true if you are the boyfriend or a newly married spouse. If, on the other hand, you've made your bones in your marriage, then you might get away with a lesser 'wowie' gift.
2.Paying attention is a good thing - and women generally drop an inordinate number of hints when a present giving occasion (Val's day, anniversary of the first time you clapped your eyes on each other, birthdays, Saturday nights) comes near. 'Ooh isn't that bauble nice?' and 'does this suit me?' are the statements that should stick out like beacons as they are generally good indicators.
3.If you have failed at step 2, then window shopping is a good option. Keep that plastic handy.
4. Every women loves a surprise - as long as it is of the good variety.
5.For guys, if you generally get stalled after getting stuff such as leather wallets, after shave, cologne (esp if BO is a big factor!), grooming kits (for the scruffier types), then activity gifts are a brilliant idea. Most men love that adrenaline rush and provided he isn't scared of heights, a bunjee jumping voucher would be a fab idea. I got hubby a 30 min flying lesson voucher couple of years back - he still hasn't managed to top that!
6. Most of all, always, always make sure the wife's present is at least twice as expensive as the mother's and three times as that of the sister's. If you want to live, that is.
7. Lastly, though charity is a good thing, showing your philanthropist nature a la colleague's big brother is not the way to win the game. Get a decent gift and give this rather nice gesture as an extra addition, if you want to save your skin and still be a persona grata.

Happy shopping!

Posted by DesiGirl 11:35 am 2 comments    

Labels: christmas, gifting, gifts, presents, shopping, valentine's day

Life in Britain: 'Tis The Season To Be Jolly
Wednesday, December 20, 2006

When I woke up today morning and peeked out of my window, the world was covered in a milky white haze. I could not even make out the block of buildings that were adjacent to ours. This was a pea-souper alright, with none of the ickiness attached to it.

Winter's finally arrived in the South of England.

As I started on my trek to work, I couldn't help noticing the spider's cobwebs. Instead of the regulation saliva based transparent thread, the spiders had somehow got hold of white woollen thread to knit their webs for the winter season. Closer inspection made it clear that it was merely the frost attaching itself firmly to the spider's threads!

For a long time, I had been moaning at the lack of winter with the rest of the Brits. 'Where's that first breath of frost that arrives to kill the bugs?', I queried no one in particular. But this week, winter arrived with a vengeance. There's a sharp nip in the air, you can see the puffs of white forming in the air from your breath and no matter how well wrapped you are, if you stood still for more than a minute, you can feel the cold seeping into your bones.

I love this! I love autumn and I love winter - with its cold, cold mornings and a mere handful of hours of daylight. I love wearing the thick jackets, woolly hats, colourful scarves and gloves. I love drinking hot, hot coffee or chocolate and stomping my feet to keep me warm. Of course, winter means its Christmas time - the town centre bedecked in colourful lights, Christmas trees covered in tinsel, baubles and pretty figurines, big malls decorated to death with Christmas stuff, complete with a 'grotto', which has a scrawny 'Santa' too knackered to even say 'ho' to a toddler, carols emanating from the street corners and the radio and of course, the mad scurry for presents for loved ones.

This year, I've been caught up in the festivities a bit more than usual, what with my son, who studies in a Catholic school wanting us to have a Christmas tree and all that goes with it. Thus, I've found myself collecting Christmas recipes, buying mince pies and Christmas puddings, mulled wine and gingerbread and that ultimate of Christmas mainstays, Christmas crackers! I am having so much fun that I am rather looking forward to wrapping up the presents we've got for little P and hiding them under the tree for him to find on Christmas morning. Of course, we had to surmount the problem of finding a route for Santa to enter our house, as we don't have a chimney - we solved it by working out he could chuck them in via the letter box!

Lugging the (fake!) tree home, along with a highly excited and a chatterbox of a almost 5 year old in a cold, dark evening is no easy feat but it was well worth it to see his face the next morning when we finished setting it up and switched on the lights. Though I agree with people who say Christmas has become more of a greed fest than one of cheer and goodwill, I still cannot help feeling great joy at the sight of the festivities and a positive glow, as we stand on the brink of a brand new year.

So, whatever lies in store for us around the corner, enjoy the present for now and have a very, merry Christmas!

Posted by DesiGirl 4:17 pm 1 comments    

Labels: brentwood, britain, carols, cheer, christmas, england, goodwill, london, south, winter

The School Nativity Play
Tuesday, December 12, 2006

“Do not cry – wave at him but do not cry!”, advised my colleagues as I left work early to go to my son’s school Nativity Play.

“Cry? Now why would I do that? I will be beaming from ear to ear, clapping away like mad – but cry? Bah!” retorted I and started making my way schoolward.

Two weeks back, my son came home one day from his infant school, told me that he’s to practice his “lines” and I am to help him memorise it. I was puzzled. “Lines? What lines?” I wondered. Gentle probing brought out the whole story – little P has been chosen as one of the narrators for the Reception class’s rendition of the story of the very first Christmas. Needless to say, I was really pleased. Hell, I felt on top of the world!

My little baby, a narrator, in his very first school play! Aww! We practised his lines diligently, that day and the next and the next and soon enough, P was word perfect. He could say without a moment’s hesitation “Inside the stable the wise men gave Jesus their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.” Even when I felt a pleasant glow at hearing him saying it so perfectly, I couldn’t help wondering how he would do when faced with hundreds of eager parents on D-Day.

After couple of weeks of practise, the Reception class’ Nativity performance was scheduled for the Tuesday. Taking the time off from work, hubby and I reached the school early only to find a mile long queue of identically eager parents patiently waiting to be let inside. At the appointed time and not a moment too soon, the doors opened and we filed inside. On surveying the Hall, every parent could be seen trying to look for the vantage point from where they could see the apple of their eye clearly. For the first time in school history, the front row seats were gone within a trice.

S and I took the middle seats of Row 2 and counted the minutes to 2 pm, when the show would start. Soon enough, the Head Teacher took centre stage and announced the children in. My heart swelled with pride to see my little man come marching in quietly, along with the rest of his friends. Dressed in his narrator outfit, he looked just the same as the other children but of course, we spotted him straightaway, long enough before his searching eyes located us in the audience and lighted up.

One by one, the narrators said their lines, whilst the actors went about enacting one of the best-known religious stories. There were loads of sniffles audible throughout, as mums dabbed their eyes when their babies lisped their lines. One little boy stole the show by singing about 10 decibels louder than the rest of the children and never mind the cue!

Finally, it was Pratik’s turn. He stood up, said his bit, waiting every time for the wise men to give the corresponding gift and then carried on with the rest of his line. He did not even falter when the second wise men chucked the jug containing frankincense with a huge clatter and the audience split its sides. He just carried on with “… and myrrh” and sat down.

Three other children went on to say their piece and sing ‘Away in the manger’. I did not hear a word – I was too busy crying with happiness and drying my tears!

Posted by DesiGirl 4:49 pm 1 comments    

Labels: catholic, christmas, jesus, nativity, play, school