Mitali Saran: First Christmas

And thankfully the last

The first and only time my family celebrated Christmas, I was seven or eight. It was early in our stint in Switzerland, and my mother thought that she would do the whole thing with the tree and the presents and so on to broaden our cultural horizons. She duly went out 10 days beforehand and bought a tree — a teenage-sized fir, as firs go, in a pot. Glossy green, not too big, not too small; quiet personality, but with a presence; just right for pre-pubescents to decorate without injury. She placed it in a festive corner behind the television (it was a small apartment, and one needs to be ...

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Mitali Saran: First Christmas