<p class="bodytext">In the 1960s life was often intolerably monotonous in the remote tea estate near Munnar where I worked, there being hardly any social interaction. Entertainment-starved, all we youngsters had to look forward to was the annual Christmas celebrations. Hosted by a local club--which, incidentally, bestirred itself once a year for this sole purpose--the event brought together all the staff and their families in a spirit of festive bonhomie.</p>.<p class="bodytext">One year, besides the usual gifts for children, the club offered a special prize for the child who correctly identified the presiding Santa Claus -– a capped, masked and red-robed individual sporting a flowing white beard. Children were told to take a good look at the jovial and well-disguised Santa Claus as he greeted them effusively, then identify him from among those whom they knew and write down his name on a piece of paper.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Enthusiasm ran high as the kids jotted down their guesses and expectantly handed these in, appending their own names at the bottom. The answers variously read “Uncle Sam,” “Uncle Victor”, “Uncle Joshua”, “Uncle Alfred”, “Uncle Gregory”, “Uncle Ashok” and so on.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Amid the gaiety of the evening many games were conducted for the kids as well as adults, with the inimitable Jim Reeves softly crooning Christmas carols in the background over the club’s radio. Soon a beaming Santa Claus was handing out the children’s gifts and finally it was time to announce the name of the child who had correctly identified him.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A palpable hush fell over the gathering as the mysteriously smirking secretary of the club announced that no one had correctly identified Santa Claus. Disappointment was stamped large on the children’s faces. Then, quite unexpectedly, a spirited young boy impulsively ran up to Santa and yanked his mask off – to reveal the face of a middle-aged lady, the headmistress of the local primary school where most of the kids studied! There was applause all round albeit laced with incredulity as children gaped open-mouthed in disbelief.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Known for his practical jokes, the secretary of the club had sprung a surprise on everyone in a bid to break the age-old stereotype of a male Santa Claus. And the schoolmarm had proved to be quite a consummate actress, disguising her voice convincingly. I sometimes wonder if she was one of the first women to play the role of Santa Claus.</p>
<p class="bodytext">In the 1960s life was often intolerably monotonous in the remote tea estate near Munnar where I worked, there being hardly any social interaction. Entertainment-starved, all we youngsters had to look forward to was the annual Christmas celebrations. Hosted by a local club--which, incidentally, bestirred itself once a year for this sole purpose--the event brought together all the staff and their families in a spirit of festive bonhomie.</p>.<p class="bodytext">One year, besides the usual gifts for children, the club offered a special prize for the child who correctly identified the presiding Santa Claus -– a capped, masked and red-robed individual sporting a flowing white beard. Children were told to take a good look at the jovial and well-disguised Santa Claus as he greeted them effusively, then identify him from among those whom they knew and write down his name on a piece of paper.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Enthusiasm ran high as the kids jotted down their guesses and expectantly handed these in, appending their own names at the bottom. The answers variously read “Uncle Sam,” “Uncle Victor”, “Uncle Joshua”, “Uncle Alfred”, “Uncle Gregory”, “Uncle Ashok” and so on.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Amid the gaiety of the evening many games were conducted for the kids as well as adults, with the inimitable Jim Reeves softly crooning Christmas carols in the background over the club’s radio. Soon a beaming Santa Claus was handing out the children’s gifts and finally it was time to announce the name of the child who had correctly identified him.</p>.<p class="bodytext">A palpable hush fell over the gathering as the mysteriously smirking secretary of the club announced that no one had correctly identified Santa Claus. Disappointment was stamped large on the children’s faces. Then, quite unexpectedly, a spirited young boy impulsively ran up to Santa and yanked his mask off – to reveal the face of a middle-aged lady, the headmistress of the local primary school where most of the kids studied! There was applause all round albeit laced with incredulity as children gaped open-mouthed in disbelief.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Known for his practical jokes, the secretary of the club had sprung a surprise on everyone in a bid to break the age-old stereotype of a male Santa Claus. And the schoolmarm had proved to be quite a consummate actress, disguising her voice convincingly. I sometimes wonder if she was one of the first women to play the role of Santa Claus.</p>