Christmas Vignettes

Bow barracks take a different look this time every year,

Those buildings which by and large stay silent

Barring on occasions breaking into peals of laughter

And midnight quarrels incited by drunken stupor of their inhabitants,

Sooty walls which look definitely out of color,

Like sepia presentations,

All change all of a sudden,

As if a fairy by her magic wand changes everything overnight,

Even Mr. Smith suffering from terrible gout living in one of those ancient red-bricked houses

Starts walking slowly from his room to the front verandah

Peering out like a tortoise,

His eyes out of sunken holes popping out, All these things happen,

For Christmas.

Little Diana who had not gone to school for the last few months

Having lack of blood in her veins

Stands feebly before that picture of Jesus Praying for better health;

Her mother in between cooking turkey

And making muffins

Comes and goes away

Like a busy rabbit running to and fro the warren;

The serpentine road that runs through the buildings

Become a fairy queen too

Decked by ball chain lights,

D' Souza, forgetting his gambling den

Also stays at his room

Watching over preparations of another Christmas,

And the best part, only around this time of the year

He cleans his guitar and strums it lazily With an indolent air,

Singing a Bob Dylan song.