Christmas Celebration Guide For The Nonbelievers

By Rashmirekha Basu

'Tis the season to be jolly, “tra la la la la la la."
I think not.
If you count yourself among the initiated who realise the complete and utter hypocrisy of the quoted words, read on. If you are among the legion who have been conned into believing that Christmas is a time for celebration of personal achievements and familial bonds, excuse me while I scoff derisively behind the regular man-sized handkerchief of my friend (and this blog's host).



So, what do you do when your hitherto poised friends flood your social networking feeds with pictures of them sloshed, about to be sloshed or acting as arm candy to someone who is completely sloshed? Well, you join them. Except you use your "little gray cells" and avoid all and any form of human interaction. 

Here is a step by step guide on what to do when you don't want to do Christmas.(that totally came out wrong) - debiparna

Step 1: Plunge into your savings account, visit the cheapest brewery and the poshest wine cellar in your neighbourhood and stock up. Why? You don't seriously believe your savings will help you achieve that childhood dream of traipsing all over the world, eh? Look at it this way, if you can ingest enough alcohol you can trick yourself into believing you have. In Charlie Sheen's dictionary that is a definite "win" (and you have to trust the guy when it comes to liquor..and winning)



Step 2: Arrange your drinks from exotic to dodgy looking. Consider and reject the idea of buying a Christmas tree with all the traditional trimmings. Because seriously, if your Christmas tree doesn't look like this what is the point in having one? Capiche?



Step 3: Don't buy any healthy stuff. At. All. ‘Tis not the season to be health conscious. If you have time, become known in your neighbourhood supermarket as the adult who wipes Twinkies, candies, Mars Bars in one fell swoop from the shelves while smirking snarkily at the children. This will do wonders for your dating life.



Step 4: Invite your one other "loser”, perennially morbid friend (you know the one with shaggy hair and questionable hygiene) so that you can feel better about your life when you hit the mid-binge crisis that overcomes the most intrepid of our kind.



Step 5: Watch the inexplicable Christmas favourite, "It's A Wonderful Life”. Take a shot every time something horribly unfair happens. Alternate that with cramming calorific food into your mouth the moment your mobile blips with yet another Instagram/Twitter/Facebook/Tumblr update about your "friends" going "craaazzzyyy-hhhh"(towards the end of the night,that's how they will spell it too).



Step 6: If you make it to the end of the movie with full control of your limbs, shoot a piteous glance at your friend passed out stone cold on the floor and somehow move to the balcony or window(since you are reading this, it probably is a window). Your journey should feel like this.



Step 7: Look at the straggling line of revellers, hear the hyena-like laughter and sense the strong smell of alcohol wafting upwards. Ponder over the mysteries of human life, the minutiae that separates their experience of life from yours, the great gasping feelings of alienation that sometimes threaten to overwhelm you, the extraordinary effort that sometimes goes into just appearing ordinary. Then from somewhere in the distance, the sonorous peals of chiming bells will pull your mind back from wandering too far in the Asphodel Meadows and you may find you are half reclined against the wall. And maybe, it is the realisation that the sour smell of alcohol is emanating from your person or that the bells might have been something as prosaic as someone's ringtone but you suddenly realize that perhaps, you too, are a part of the spirit of Christmas. You too are jolly. Just not in the mainstream, euphoric, in-your-ruddy-face kind of way.



Have a good one ya'll!