December 19, 2011
Christmas is round the corner, it is the most delightful of all feasts because so many childhood memories are attached to it. I remember a particular year when ‘Vimal’ showroom had opened on light house hill in our hometown and my mother took all of us sisters there to select material for dresses just before Christmas, and then a trip to our tailor for patterns. The tailor was named Bhaskar, located near the signal light in Hampankatta, opposite the Wenlock Hospital. The creaky wooden stairs made a thumping noise as we climbed up to his shop, scary it was but there was the excitement of new dresses, the anticipation of that day when they would arrive home; so began our Christmas season.
The ‘Kuswar’ preparations were all so exhilarating. The entire process of a single Kuswar, say the Nevrios was divided into simpler tasks like kneading, preparing the filling, rolling out the dough, frying, etc. Since we were seven children, each one of us was a specialist in one task. Loretta and Doreen to knead the dough and roll it, Veera and Hildabai to make the filling; Saira the youngest, and I to taste and approve, and later as guests arrived, endorse!
My mother and our Parish priest made sure that we were all spiritually prepared; yes, we had our confessions on time. Ah! The crib! One particular year, Fr. Reginald Cardoza, our Parish priest declared that the best crib in the parish would be awarded a prize. Our cousin Lancy Mascarenhas came to help us. Every evening we carried stones, mud and what not to build our beautiful crib. Our grandfather had just passed away early that year, and Lancy’s father and their entire family made sure that we were taken care of because my father being a sailor came home for four months, once a year.
The making of the pool, having a stream flow from the hills into the pool, embedding a plastic tube into the hills to emerge at the opening of the so called waterfall, cementing it all, making a little bridge out of bamboo sticks, erecting it in a place that was supposed to lead into the crib, was all part of the crib; then came the tricks of making water flow! A bucket full of water was placed on a raised platform and one of us sucked out the air from the tube and pushed it back so that the water flowed continuously, whenever some guest (or the crib competition judges) came to view the crib.
Once the hills of the crib were built, soot from the fireplace in the bathroom was used to blacken them for authenticity; for the snowcapped hills we used white wash powder, only on the tips of course. One subsequent year, we had forgotten to throw away the remaining ‘snow’ in the evening as we usually worked into the night. The next morning I was horrified to see that it had ‘snowed’ all night! All the hills were white! My Vodlimai smiled and told me that she had completed the task of ‘snowing’ on the hills for us, “Why waste good suno?”
Christmas trees were to be planted and so my brother Denis had the task of bringing a real tree, this was a ritual, digging into the mud and planting the tree. We decorated it with lights, we had not seen baubles on a Christmas tree before, and right on the top of the tree was a star and all this had to be done on the 23rd or the 24th evening to make sure that the tree looked ‘real’ on Christmas day.
Another job we loved to do was bringing real grass found on the edges of fields to use in the crib. The thick grass gave the crib a magical real life look. The last tasks were the lighting and placing of the little statuettes in the crib. The sheep had to be placed in such a way as to show that they were all watching baby Jesus. All of us had our own designs on where and how the sheep and other figures had to be placed. Finally it was the joyful satisfaction we all experienced when we saw how enchanting the crib looked on Christmas Eve as we left for the midnight service!
Our son has inherited our interest in making the crib. Every year faithfully, he carries mud upstairs and makes his little crib in a corner on the terrace. Pumps support his cause of continuous water flow. Saw dust colored with green ink make up the green grass, black ink for soot. “Snowcapped hills? Ha!” is the reaction. The spirit is all there but the camaraderie of siblings has to be made up with phone calls from cousins and visits from neighbors and friends. The Christmas tree is unpacked from its storage and decorated with all sorts of new beautifications. The amount and variety of Kuswar now depends upon my schedule at work, though the cakes do get baked.
Christmas nights are chilly in Bangalore and it certainly promises to be very much so this year with the temperatures steadily dropping in the past few days. Memories are aplenty, all of us have our small families to celebrate Christmas with and its’ not every year that we can all meet for Yuletide. Here’s wishing all of you a great time for Christmas and the year ahead. Cheerio!
Cynthia Menezes Prabhu Archives: