25th December 2025
My dear precious angel,
How could I ever forget my Christmas of 2024? It was, without a shadow of doubt, the happiest Christmas day of my entire life. I am trembling as I write this. My fingers shake because the one who made that day so bright is no longer beside me. I am alone. I am sad inside. But still, I will wear a smile on my face—so my family does not see, so the customers at our restaurant do not notice as I punch their orders one by one.
I have never been one to ask anything from Santa Claus. I never thought of demanding or wishing for gifts. But this year is different. This year, a desperate wish has taken root in my heart.
And I do not think of Santa as merely a man with a long white beard and moustache, dressed in red. No. He is the one who listens to children—children as innocent as me. Yes, my angel. I am the most innocent soul you will ever find on this earth. I am crying as I write these words. That is how deeply I feel my own innocence.
I have never harmed anyone. Never. Instead, I have always protected the one I truly loved and cared for. And yet, here I am—suffering every day and every night. All because I showed my true self to someone I once believed was a holy figure. Someone I believed was sent to me by my late nana, my grandfather.
So this is my prayer to Santa Claus: Make everyone who suffers like me stronger—as strong as I am trying to be. And if the universe allows, spare other innocent hearts from the pain I am carrying.
Last year, I sent a few chocolates to that holy figure. This time, I am sending something sweeter—prayers, endless prayers, and all the love my heart still holds. Please, wake up. Look around. See if someone is sitting sadly—even on his most favourite day—remembering only you.
Your gem, Vivek Prasad
