Faking it

It must be that time of year again as the news now includes reports of U.S. and British shopping habits and retail projections. The only sign that Christmas is approaching is the news flash of disappointment that is the American shopping public this year.
They expect better of you!

Here in Bangalore there are no jingle bells or holly festooned malls hosting pictures with a rented suit Santa. There is no mad rush to converge on the retail establishment brandishing 20% APR plastic and freshly withdrawn cash with which to acquire a mass of stuff that is supposed to make people happy, remind them with wrapped paper and impressive price tag that they are loved.
Here there are no tree farms packed with ebbing life, manufactured solely for this purpose. The lot adorned with a space-heated camper trailer from which always seems to emerge the same man smelling of cigarettes and in need of a shave - and maybe rehab. I imagine there is a clearing house for these tree sellers: catering to those on badly timed disability from a factory job.
I am happily exempt from this ritual of installing a little green thing to its pine scented death sentence in the middle of my living room. A few years previous to this seemingly never-ending excursion to India, I purchased a rather impressive fake tree that held the lights and baubles just as well if not better for its poseable wire branches. Plus, never having to water it meant never having to rescue a tree skirt and freshly wrapped packages from the inevitable accidental overflow. It dented my bank account but assuaged my guilt over having participated in the seasonal mass execution and fostered my penchant for holiday entertaining and decorating in the least damaging way I could imagine.

In my present distanced reality I have become virtually unaffected by the socially accepted Western norm of Christmas holiday=shopping, and I'm Muslim now anyway. But I still wish with all my heart we could be with family and friends (two things in very short supply in our current locae) this season, because that's ultimately what it's all about.
Maybe next year.