In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Secret Santa.”
I opened up the messaging feature in my old utility phone a few days back, I checked the inbox trying to find something that would move me. And there it was, something from a group of friends I made last year, a message about self harm, and countless others about how they showed their concern. It broke me, I spent the larger part of the day huddled up and remembering. This year, they gifted me a diary, pen and ink and to be honest I really haven’t given the bunch anything back.
I guess that is a a part of me, I rarely give anything back to those who care too much about me. I have this bad habit of ignoring them at the end of the year. Even now I sit with the letter addressed to one of them, which has still not been mailed, and I feel terrible about the same. I know I should be a better person but, then, that is hard for me.
So, what should I give them?
Well, for the youngest one, I probably reserve poetry, letters and love. I shall gift her with movies too, some of the movies that changed my life.
For one of the strongest women I know, I should probably give her something strange a trinket to remember me by.
To the woman who has become more of an elder sister, I give a book, that is torn from the middle, and has trod upon by the feet of all the human beings that have read it before
To the weird woman with the heart of gold, I give chocolate, because everything else wouldn’t really do. I would probably give her a packet of toys too.
To the two elder brothers, I probably should just send books that have impacted me so. I do not know what though, perhaps something that is purely mine. Something from Keats may be? Or would Neruda be true-er? I really do not know for sure.
For the girl who knows to have a lot of fun and carries a personal philosophy with herself, I reserve a bottle of wine, and a meet up in a quaint little shed by the beach.
And to this other sister, who I do not see as much, I would probably give this pair of earrings that smell of home.
I do not have a lot of money but, someday I might be able to gift them. Till then, these posts would probably have to do. Maybe poetry is the poor man’s diamond ring, who knows?