Zeno Hujon marks a trajectorial shift in Christmas celebrations with an overpowering westernised influence in the times.
Christmas has evolved immensely throughout the years, from the celebration of the birth of Jesus to embracing the western concept of Santa Claus. The families of Meghalaya have seen nostalgic merry dwindle in the practice of Christmas customs. With conversations surrounding this yearly event, several people trace the shift in the landscape of Christmas celebrations.
What is Christmas? The first thing that comes to mind is carols, hymns, and church services narrating stories of Jesus, the three wise men, shepherds and angels. However, it has expanded to non-believers and it unites various hearts in the hope of spreading joy and warmth, making Christmas ‘Christmas’.
Has this festive season been diminished to the act of gift-giving, new clothes, and plum cakes? Has the real value of Christmas now been overshadowed by the Western culture and its introduction to the concept of a white-bearded old man, carrying a gift sack as big as his belly, riding reindeers all through the night?
Skiatly Hujon, a 75 year old woman, donning a green-chequered jaiñ-kyrshah, sat on her brown-leather sofa. With wrinkled smiles, she expressed her happiness as she recounted her childhood and what the word Christmas meant to her.
“It was always something to look forward to. No matter what happened at home or school, we never wanted to miss Christmas Eve. We’d all wear white, wear flowers on our heads as crowns and wave our flags everywhere!”
When asked what flags they held, she was delighted to detail the imagery of Baby Jesus in a stable. She’d forgotten whether they were painted or printed, but everyone there held an identical picture. These pictures were stuck on small, thin wooden spears and distributed to over 100s of children and adults in Nongstoiñ during the 1960s. “We didn’t have decorative lights, but we stuck oranges on the wooden pickets of the church. Nobody knew what a Christmas tree or cake was back then; it was very simple. We gave out fruits and ate them.”
Prior to the major evangelisation of Meghalaya, Mrs. Hujon’s grandmother was one of the few people who first converted to Christianity upon the arrival of the British or as they referred to as “the white men”. Since the 19th century, the village of Pariong, where her family is from, became elated whenever the year hit December.
“We didn’t know gifts,” Skiatly chuckled, with the lines beside her eyes growing deeper, “We only wanted to play games and watch skits until dawn during Christmas Eve.”
Her posture now changed, and her eyes stared at the door. “When we moved to Shillong, I only went to church at noon and came back home.”
Reggie, Skiatly’s son-in-law, depicts his days broadening the joy of Christmas to everyone he knew. Spreading his palms to enjoy the heat of a bonfire in their backyard, he said, “We knocked on each door of our neighbours, wished everyone a Merry Christmas and went home till there was nobody else to wish.”
He shook his head, “Now, it’s harder to send our kids to do that because the world has become very unsafe.”
Skiatly’s many grandchildren agreed that they mostly looked forward to Christmas because of the new clothes and gifts, but were divided when asked what Christmas meant to them. They couldn’t decide whether Christmas was about Jesus dying or being born. One of them said that he writes letters to Santa every year, noting that his parents drop off the letters at the Post Office.
Mehidashan Laloo, a 13-year-old student of MPPS said, “We used to have real trees. Every December my uncle and I would cut the tree in our garden and we’d bring out the decorations stored in shoe boxes.”
With a dejected look, he sighs. “Now, we only have artificial trees and I can’t even remember where the box of Christmas decorations is, so the tree is still not put up.”
Jesse James L Nongpyiur, the founder of James Music School shared how he and his siblings would leave for church at 10 pm and come back at 12 am. For the rest of the night, they’d venture about the neighbourhood, drinking tea at everyone’s homes. A series of hot cups of red- or if they’re lucky, milk tea, brought together cosy warmth clubbed with the gleeful feeling of Christmas.
Wearing a dark windbreaker, he folded his arms and stretched out his long legs. He said, “I think Christmas for many, today and back then, means having a good time with the involvement of alcohol. The only difference is people used to openly drink and dance, everyone in the town knew what they were up to. But today’s youth hide these activities quite well as the sense of community weakens in strength.”
Muffled piano sounds interrupt, escaping the walls as a student of James’ attempted to play a tune from his sheet. The notes softened and he continued, “Now, I try to teach the younger generation what the real concept of Christmas is. Even though it’s not wrong to be happy or have a good time, we should remember who or what we are happy for—Jesus’ birth. I want to instil that joy in today’s children, to be exhilarated over the birth of Our Saviour.”