A Christmas story:

The dawn of Christmas

Conferred. It was decided. they had to go their ways. There was embracing, exchange of mementos, addresses. Even shoe laces were exchanged - tears - not only of those about to be separated - but even of the villagers. They said that they were going to name the place ‘Saama Kumaru Bhoomi’.

Siripathy JAYAMAHA

Dcember twenty fourth night. The ceasefire was from 9 p.m. till 11.59 p.m. of December 25. The time was 11.00 p.m. on the 24. The land was flat. The land was desolate. Shrubs and a few trees around it. Probably a long abandoned playing field. This was a no war zone. Sound of guns were silent. There were no drones of combat aircraft. The entire terrain was luminous with the Poya Day Full Moon. A few sounds of crackers could be heard in the distance, amidst a myriad screeching of the night creatures and the high pitched sound of the fluttering wings of the lady cicadas. Other than these, there was an eerie silence.

Suddenly two small children came running to the open space. They were from the very small village close by. They were followed by a few more. They had brought some balloons, streamers and a few toys. One could hear the far away shouts of the elders. There was a sort of a boggy area at the corner of - or the end of the field. Two children had fallen into it. There were shouts of distress.

At once, a solitary figure of a soldier emerged from one of the shrubs and started to run towards the muddy pool. Two others followed. More or less at the same moment, two soldiers from the opposite side of the field were seen rushing towards the pool. The soldiers faced each other. Smiled. Shrugged their shoulders and leaped into the quagmire.

Soldiers from both sides, could now be seen running with towels and bits of clothing towards the children who had now been cleaned up. The children were then carried to an old well.

Soldiers were now coming out of the shrubs like ants from an anthill. A few parents too came running in. The young men were joking with the children. Next, they began to shake hands, pat each other and speak in different tongues. English became a common language.

The sudden silence and being at attention by the young men indicated the arrival of a senior officer. Both commanders of the opposite camps had come. They saluted and shook hands. The time was 11.40 p.m.

A young officer approached the commanders and whispered something into their ears.

There were nods of approval and smiles. Strange, but lovely to behold. These men of fighting removed their weapons and gently placed them at their respective sides. The commanders exchanged weapons with a lot of laughter. A young officer suggested that all should at midnight fire one solitary shot in unison. “Sirs,” said another, “It is a beautiful gesture no doubt, but I think we have heard enough of gunfire - all of us. We have seen the death of our companions from them. Let us not, my dear sirs and my colleagues even thinking of firing one shot in commemorating the birth of the Prince of Peace - what I would like to suggest is that all of us give a couple of resounding shouts of peace. Peace, in the language we know and clap, so that our humble celebrations could be heard throughout the world. Thank you, Sirs.” The person who suggested firing a gun came and kissed him. The commanders shook hands and congratulated him. The hour of midnight came.

The jungle echoed with the shouting of peace and the clapping of hands. It was unbelievable. They sang carols in many languages. Danced. Villagers brought coffee and tea. They also brought bananas, papaws and any other edible offering from their simple kitchens. Above all, many were in tears. They played with the children - tears, carried the children - tears.

Someone suggested a football game. All agreed. There was no ball. They made an excellent ball - fit for the World Cup finals. Bunch of leaves stuffed into a long sleeved banian.

One of the bright officers said that his grandfather had related to him of a similar lovely happening during World War II. “Yes son,” said one of the commanders “This is indeed beautiful history repeating itself. We are blessed to be here today to witness and to participate in an unforgettable and joyful happening.” The teams were mixed.

Dawn was breaking. The seniors met. Conferred. It was decided. they had to go their ways. There was embracing, exchange of mementos, addresses. Even shoe laces were exchanged - tears - not only of those about to be separated - but even of the villagers. They said that they were going to name the place ‘Saama Kumaru Bhoomi’.

Then they dispersed. It was a serene morn of a Unduwap Poya Day and the dawn of a wonderful day when the world commemorates the birthday of Jesus Christ.

A day when the words of ‘May all beings be happy’ and the words of the birthday celebrants ‘Peace be with you all’ resounded and echoed throughout the hallowed land and the world - world so very much starved of happiness and peace.