As I sit and listen to Spotify AI choose my Christmas jazz playlist for me today, I am tempted to recall the first of November every year in our household. For many decades, it was the day Dad opened the record box and pulled out Frank Sinatra’s A Jolly Christmas album. Carols filled the air with stories of snowmen, mistletoe and holly and all the rest of the jolly stuff that we could only imagine or see in movies. Sinatra was followed by Dean Martin, Eddie Murphy, Perry Como, Ella and Louis and other music maestros who ushered in the Christmas feeling. Rosy, warm, love songs that accompanied the preparations for the coming of Christ.
Life and sentiment has changed. We rewrote the lyrics of the next few decades with poignant stories of hearts given away to the wrong person Last Christmas or Lennon defining “So this is Christmas” or Band Aid asking “Do they know it’s Christmas?”
Now Taylor Swift tells us about Christmas Tree Farm, Sia assures us Santa’s coming for us and Meghan Trainor describes My kind of present along with chestnuts like Baby, it’s cold outside.
Cherry on the cake
Sinatra’s singing coincided with the entry of the fruit to be chopped. Our Goan families were large — we weighed in at 7, and my cousins too. Dining tables were large. Cleared of the extras, they become the production centres for what went into the fruit cakes — cherries, pumpkins, preserves and all the other colourful stuff. Raisins were carefully placed in a modicum of rum for fermenting till the cake was mixed and filled in moulds for the local baker to fire!
Production lines included rolling the kalkals, which were then dutifully fried to the right colour before being bottled and placed out of reach. Rose cookies went through the same process. And all this was accompanied by full-throated carols belted out by the whole family, with kitchen band accompaniment.
Rose cookies TT archives
I remember this fruit left drying in trays covered with netting to let in the sunlight and keep out the inquisitive crows (and perhaps a little finger or two)! Also, in the sunlight was the slab of salt meat pickled in jaggery, lime and various spices. We looked at it longingly and stuck our noses in the kitchen as it cooked so we could savour the aroma, knowing that mum would give out miserly slices so that it could last the season.
[Check out this salt meat family recipe]
A universal Christmas
My children tell me that the effort that went into that preparation was misplaced. Figgy pudding is now Swiggy pudding. The pandemic spawned a plethora of home bakers and now everyone makes their own cake (from YouTube) for fun. Others line up in the traditional manner to buy cakes from Nahoum’s, Saldanha’s and Flury’s. That hasn’t changed.
Figgy pudding Unsplash
But I am being parochial here. Yes, our community hovered around the big three bakeries — we couldn’t dream of Taj Bengal or The Oberoi Grand. But now that Christmas has moved over to being a universal festival, goodies have extended to other also-rans who don’t bake traditional recipes but mass produce some good alternatives. I love the choices we now have.
To see how universal Christmas has become one has to visit New Market. We used to meet our uncles, aunts and assorted cousins almost invariably in the centre of the market — the cannon — which became a designated spot for lost kids. Mums were showing off purchases especially if they got some material which we would all be fitted into eventually. Or children would point at specific toys that caught their eye and hope that “Santa” would be watching. Today, families from every other community have joined in and everyone seems to be having a good time.
To see how universal Christmas has become one has to visit New Market
Christmas on Park Street
I recall, when long-term planning resulted in a family lunch at Trincas or Skyroom or any of the places in-between. I remember we were left in one of these places with mum while dad sneaked off to Olympia’s for a quick drink with friends before the more expensive lunch treat! Today there’s a line outside most restaurants, some of which actually give out numbered counters, and others have waiters hovering over your table to get you to leave as soon as possible.
The original ‘mela’ on Park Street was put up by the store owners themselves — floats with Santa on a sleigh, brightly lit Christmas trees, reindeer, snowmen all down the street. If you were lucky, you’d be taken to the Paragon toy shop.
Groups of young teens, in a spirit of goodwill, took guitars or harmonicas in hand and formed the Carol Singers. In my day, the singers went around to homes and sang generously. Sometimes they would be invited in for a cup of cocoa, but mostly it was just to spread good cheer. Some of the more organised groups still visit homes for the aged, decorate them, spend time with the elderly and hold Christmas parties.
The hub for this most wonderful time of the year is still Park Street after all these years Amit Datta
Today, we have a grand Kolkata Christmas Festival with food, music and a general feeling of bonhomie and confusion. There was a time when Allen Gardens (that’s the original name) was the resting place in between shopping sprees. Today we have talent from all over the city performing at the weeklong festival and they’ve changed the name to Allen Park. Carol singing is now an event. Clubs have carol evenings, churches have carol displays and competitions. What started as the Church Christmas Bazaar has now evolved into full-scale carnivals or fetes — the home-made products like cakes or raisin or ginger wine still being the all-time favourite.
The hub for this most wonderful time of the year is still Park Street after all these years! Though the name has changed to Mother Teresa Sarani, the feeling of Christmas is still “Park Street”. Crowds have swelled, shop fronts have been given a face lift, the government has lit up the street with fairy lights for the great party! Music that used to be heard acoustically from the carol singers is now loudly blasted on PA equipment ensuring everyone hears Christmas happening.
Midnight mass and more
St Paul’s Cathedral, where the midnight mass was and still is legendary TT archives
My earliest recollection of Christmas services is hanging onto my parents’ fingers as they sang in the church choir. Hours of practice under the baton of a strict choirmaster resulted in a beautiful, four-part harmony which made the services prayerful and meaningful. This happened at all the Christian churches with the top draw being St Paul’s Cathedral where the midnight mass was and still is legendary.
There were years when midnight mass was held at 7.30pm due to some disturbances and fears in the city. And for two recent years the services were all online with families dressing and attending the service from the safety of their homes. The Ghost of Christmas Future? This year it’s back to business!
Welcome to the best Indian city to be in this Christmas — Kolkata.
The author is a Goan living in Kolkata and a learning and development consultant who plays music, writes blogs and teaches whenever he can.
