Chitrotpala Chaitali Dash

Drama Inspirational Others


Chitrotpala Chaitali Dash

Drama Inspirational Others

The Christmas Chocolate

The Christmas Chocolate

4 mins

"Yes papa. Yes Yes... I have boarded the train. Yes! Okay papa." Tapping the red button of my phone, I heaved a sigh of relief. Had I delayed for a minute more, I would have missed the train. I have an awful habit of hurrying and messing up things since childhood. On the contrary, papa is the most disciplined man I have ever met in my life. I wouldn't had been given an entry way back at home, had I missed the train by any chance. And most importantly, it had been months since I visited my grandparents. I had missed them badly. Luckily for the first time, my college gave us holidays in Christmas.

Mentally expressing my gratitude to the Universe, I tucked my red suitcase beneath the berth. I felt petrified seeing the fresh bunch of passengers who had hastily boarded the train after me. And among them were the aloo muri and peanut vendors who were standing patiently amidst the crowd, waiting for them to settle. The crowd actually reminded me of soldiers in battlefields gushing towards their enemies with swords and shields. They were busy struggling for seats, panting and puffing at the same time. They were least bothered about the little girl who was veered to all directions, trying hard to breathe in the midst of those stinking-clothed thighs. Her fingers seemed to have long lost the grip of one of the berths she had clutched herself to.

The air was now overstuffed with a stench of sweat and humidity and fresh air was still twenty eight miles away. I distracted my mind from the crowd and directed my gaze towards the lush green trees and meadows that passed by. The hunting oscillation of wheels had almost lulled me to sleep when all of a sudden, I sensed my right feet being pushed gently towards the corner. I immediately looked downwards and saw a little boy, probably of eight or nine hesitantly pushing my feet with his tiny fingers. He was dressed in an over-sized ragged shirt and pants and was holding a broom in one hand. And on his left shoulder he had hung an old tattered bag. His chocolate brown hands and feet were soiled by greases and dirt from the floor of the train. I gently moved my leg aside giving him space to sweep the floor beneath me.

Meanwhile his eyes had distractedly caught the sight of a mother giving her child a chocolate. The boy’s eyes were hungrily fixed on the bites of the chocolate the child was relishing upon, and the shiny purple wrapper that was thrown on the floor. Seeing his plight, I desperately wished if I had a chocolate too at that moment. I had thought of buying one for my cousin the day before, but I had completely forgotten it in the evening. I called him and offered him a twenty-rupee note. He looked at me and then looked at the note, and then looked at me again before taking the money. He quietly slipped it into his old shabby bag. There was no expression on his dark face. I knew he would save the money for his meals and would never buy a chocolate with it. How I wished I had a chocolate at that particular moment.

Meanwhile he noticed a banana peel nearby that his weary hands had forgotten to pick up perhaps. As he bent down to pick it up, the old bag that hung from his shoulder fell on the floor. The bag seemed to be stitched from an old shirt.

Suddenly I saw two palms placing a Cadbury chocolate on the top of the little boy’s bag. They were pink-white and the dorsal side of the palms revealed the bluish veins flowing clearly beneath it. They had wrinkles everywhere except for a tiny spot on the right wrist which had a fresh scar. For the first time after an hour of my journey, I realised an old man sitting opposite to my berth. His long snow-white beard unfurled a possible hint that he might be in his eighties. I realised that he had been observing the boy all this while and had definitely noticed the desire in his little big eyes while staring at the chocolate wrapper.                                             


The boy held the banana peel and placed it on the heap he had accumulated all this while. As he turned back to pick his bag, his eyes suddenly glistened. Not every day he got a privilege of rejoicing over such a wonderful gift. He touched the shiny wrapper with both his palms trying to make himself believe that it was not just an empty wrapper and also had a real 'chocolate' inside it. He suddenly started beaming with joy and slipped his newly acquired present into his bag. I looked at the old man who was now serenely smiling at the boy, as if relishing the happiness over his face. Now the old man caught me staring at him and looked at me with the same placid smile on his lips. I smiled back at him expressing my immense gratitude and admiration towards him for making the boy’s day.

That day I realised how wrong I was to think that Santa existed only in tales. Santas are many in number and are quite real like you and me. Not all Santas come in flying sleigh and reindeer. This was the best Christmas gift I have ever had in my life.

Rate this content
Log in

More english story from Chitrotpala Chaitali Dash

Similar english story from Drama