Poor Santa. This year he really did have a rough time. In malls, at parties, across cities and small towns in India, Santa was thrashed. Parties where he made an appearance were ransacked. Even poor roadside vendors selling red caps with white pompoms were not spared. It was as if the man in red had personally offended someone’s theology, history, culture, and blood pressure all at once.
Naturally, I decided to interview him.
He arrived limping slightly, beard askew, cap crushed beyond recognition. He looked genuinely bewildered. “Why thrash me,” he asked, “when I really have nothing to do with Christmas.”
It was a fair question.
Santa went on to explain, rather apologetically, that he was a late arrival to the story. A marketing mascot. A seasonal entertainer. A cheerful distraction invented centuries after the actual event. The real person of Christmas, he reminded me, was a Babe born in a manger. No snow. No sleigh. No reindeer. No chimney. Just hay, humility, and a God who chose to arrive quietly.
I nodded. Santa sighed. “People seem very angry with me this year,” he said. “I don’t know why.”
I told him the truth. “For hundreds of years,” I said, “you got away pretending Christmas had something to do with you. You posed for photographs. You handed out gifts. You smiled benignly while theology took a back seat to plum cake and discount sales. And so, when outrage finally arrived, it landed squarely on your padded shoulders.”
Santa looked relieved. “So it’s delayed justice,” he asked.
“Something like that,” I said. “Unfortunately, it is also misplaced justice.”
Because thrashing Santa does not defend faith. It only exposes our confusion.
The irony is almost poetic. Christmas celebrates God stepping into the world without force, without spectacle, without aggression. No mobs. No ransacking. No shouting slogans. Just a child placed in a feeding trough because there was no room elsewhere. That quiet entry changed history far more than any show of strength ever could.
But quiet truths make us uncomfortable. They require reflection. They ask us to examine ourselves. Much easier to grab the nearest Santa and let off some steam.
Before leaving, Santa adjusted his beard and smiled weakly. “Maybe next time,” he said, “people should learn their religious history.”
Sorry, dear people. Santa has nothing to do with Christmas.
And if you still feel the urge to thrash someone, perhaps you should start with your ignorance…!
The Author conducts an online, eight session Writers and Speakers Course. If you’d like to join, do send a thumbs-up to WhatsApp number 9892572883 or send a message to bobsbanter@gmail.com
