IDEAS FOR THE HOLIDAYS
or
INSIDE THE MIND OF A SMALL INDIAN
or
WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE

By

Millie Munshi

One: This story would be about the time I won a dance contest at the Astor Place K-mart and would be called "Last Christmas, I gave you my heart."  When Brian, the store manager, was judging the contest (which I won) I was pretty sure that he had signaled that there was something magical and special between us. And sure it was a dance contest in front of the electronics department at a K-mart, but I still thought it was pretty cool when I won the $20 gift card. I bought a little Christmas tree and I thought Brian winked at me when he announced my victory. But when I went back the very next week, Brian acted like he didn't even know who I was. This year, I'll save it for somebody special.

Two: This story is about how I love Christmas more than any good Hindu should. The radio gods have created this amazing thing which is a non-stop holiday music radio station. Christmas music 24-hours a day. I set my alarm clock radio to it and am woken up by silver bells. Fantastic. A week or two ago I was visiting Pat and when he drove me home after dinner I casually suggested and/or physically forced him to put on the Christmas radio station. Pat is not really a "spirited" person, though he does love puppies more than anyone I've ever met. But he was the drummer in a punk band in high school, and therefore is way too cool for Christmas music and maybe his own pants. But see, that's the beauty of Christmas: the magic - it gets you, even if you're a pagan Hindu or "Punk as Fuck." In the end, he felt it in his fingers; he felt it in his toes.

Three: This story is about how my mom is the best at getting Christmas presents. Every year my mom has my sister and I sit down and make our Christmas lists. Ok, I guess she stopped "sitting us down" after I turned 15, and now I just gallop through the house screaming about how we're making Christmas lists, but you know – six dozen of one, half a ton of the other. Things that we really want get stars next to them. Since I am an adult and live in New York now, I just mail my Christmas list in. Last year, I got a train set. But two Christmases ago, I got the best present ever. It was the first thing on my list and had five stars next to it: Onesie-pajamas with feet. You know, like infants wear. Not only did my mom manage to find me an adult-sized, full-fleece onesie, but she found one that had bears on it. Bears! It was amazing. It's like sleeping in a giant bag of fleece. It's very hot (both temperature-wise and in the physically attractive way). I've decided that the man who tells me I'm beautiful in a onesie, is the man I'm going to marry.

Four: This is about how just because I'm Indian doesn't mean that I eat curry on Christmas. Not everything we do is full of curry. I mean curry is delicious, sure, but that doesn't mean every holiday features buckets of the stuff. I'm sick of people asking me "What do you people do on Christmas? Eat curry and sing carols?" Yes, that is what we do. Usually it's chicken curry and sometimes there is hot chocolate. But you know what? You still shouldn't assume. I guess this isn't really a story so much as a point of contention.