The proper thing to do, of course, is to never look a gift horse in the mouth. A gift is a favour. It is unbecoming to bemoan its shortcomings, its inadequacies - especially, when the gift is proferred by a Secret Santa.
Lord knows I have tried to live by this dictum but there are times - and gifts - that make you wish Santa slipped off the roof and was impaled on Rudolph’s antlers. To be clear, I do not mean Santa should die. I am only suggesting that having his gut gored could make him rethink some of his life choices and, in particular, his decision to gift someone a voucher. You will agree, I am sure, that anyone who thinks it is fine to go about gifting vouchers to people, deserves much worse.
We are deep in Secret Santa season and many of you must be agonising over the gifts you ought to buy. There are some people who will tell you that vouchers are perfectly acceptable Secret Santa submissions. They may also employ phrases like ‘so useful’ and ‘as good as cash’ to buttress their opinion. Do not listen to them. These are the kind of people who mutilated insects as children and are likely to possess psychopathic tendencies. Some may even be investment bankers. Be wary of such people.
They do not understand that the purpose of Secret Santa - or any gift-giving, for that matter - is not the transactional exchange of trinkets. It is to trigger the joy that can only come from surprise. A thoughtful gift, no matter how small or banal, can bring this joy; but a voucher reeks of disinterest and indifference. Unlike mercy, a voucher is not twice blest. If anything, it is twice curseth: it curseth him that gives and him that takes. A voucher, shrouded in its hooded cloak of apathetic gloom, can grab the festive spirit by the throat and strangle it to death. A voucher can murder Christmas.
Perhaps you have guessed by now that I have received vouchers in the past, during Secret Santa gift exchanges. The first time it happened, I was still new at work and ill-prepared for such a cruel fate. I ranted and railed for weeks. I moaned about it to everyone in the office and brought it up in every conversation. I should have known word of my discontent would eventually reach my Santa. We were, after all, working in the same place. I should have stopped to consider how terribly awkward things could get between us if he found out about my whinging, but I was young and reckless. I soon paid the price for being indiscreet when one day my Santa and I were both in the lift. He gave me a sheepish look and cleared his throat.
“I heard you hated your gift and, um, I wanted to apologise. I was your Secret Santa.”
I opened my mouth and shut it. I gulped. Then I tried again.
“What? Hated? No, no. Haha. What is there to apologise for? Nothing like that.”
I looked at the doors of the lift and considered prying them open to escape.
“I was very busy and didn’t have the time, you know…”
“Of course, of course. Please don’t even think about it. I was glad to get the vouchers. So useful. As good as cash. Hahaha.”
I wiped my brow and willed the elevator to move faster. It didn’t. As the elevator made its leisurely way up, we exchanged weak smiles and then stared at the floor for the remainder of the journey. It took us many years to repair our professional relationship and I swore never to carp about Secret Santa presents.
So this year, when I once again received a voucher as my gift during the Secret Santa festivities in office, I did not wince. I took a few deep breaths and unclenched my fists. I set my face into a smile and spoke not a word of complaint. But do not mistake my forbearance for acquiescence. I may have swallowed the bile that rushed up to my throat at the sight of the voucher but you should not.
If you are a Santee who is filled with cold fury after receiving a voucher as your gift, raise your voice and know that you are not alone. And if you are a Santa who is mulling over the idea of gifting a voucher to someone - for God’s sake, do better.
Merry Christmas!
Looks like you've never received ball-point pens, headphones (mostly purchased on the roadside outside Andheri station) year-old corporate Diwali gifts (with the company name tag intact), and old diaries from your Santa. I'd rather receive a gift voucher than any of these.
Things I've received as gifts which suck more than vouchers:
A book on weight loss
A toddler cup spoon set (don't have kids)
A single bedsheet (why?!)
A clay model of two intertwined HANDS painted black