For the whole seven years that I called London home, you could often hear me complaining. Don’t get me wrong. I did not complain throughout. The complaining was purely seasonal, especially a bit more towards the festive period that started in October and culminated in the New Year. And I wasn’t alone. Along with millions of other Londoners and people across Britain, we collectively complained about a number of things.

We complained in October when all across Britain, the retail stores started playing those discs of Christmas music over and over again, till it was etched in our memory. It was fun initially, because it helped us start the countdown to the big day. It made the staff in the stores a little less grumpier (I know, I’ve worked as one of them) and the shopping experience a lot better. The only glitch was that it appeared as if every store that we visited had the same disc in an infinite loop. So we complained anyway.

We complained in November when everyone across North America was celebrating Thanksgiving and then Black Friday. Not because we wanted to feel thankful about things. But because we did not have the holiday. And then of course because we did not have the Black Friday deals, which would have so helped with our Christmas shopping. So we complained anyway.

We complained in early December, of the biting cold winds, the sunny yet chilly mornings, the insanely freezing nights and the “adverse weather disrupting the trains and buses” messages from the Transport for London (TFL).

We complained about having to travel to work in the cold and on ice-rink like roads. We complained about the Costa and Starbucks taking advantage of the winter and increasing the prices of our favourite lattes and cappuccinos. But then we loved the festive cups. So we bought them anyway, and then complained.

We complained about the late sunrises and early sunsets, and the fact that it was dark when we both started and finished work. We complained about how this made us feel like we had no sunshine at all. We complained about the Christmas lights and how they were just a marketing sham into making us “feel good” about spending more money. We complained about how much shopping we had left to do for Christmas and how little time we had.

We complained about how those “charity sales” people on the street heckled us as we rushed to finish our Christmas shopping. But then, we also complained about the world being insensitive when we saw that Christmas special documentary about how many people across Britain did not have a home to go to or warm food to eat.

We complained about how much we wanted a White Christmas, but at the first sign of that tiny little snow flake we were ready to huddle back inside by the heater or the fireplace, away from the whiteness of it all. We complained about how we were “forced” to spend a lot of money on Boxing Day, buying stuff that we did not need or did not fit into. But we bought it anyway because it was on offer.

We complained about how unfair it was when New Year’s day fell on a weekend, and how the Government owed us another extra day of holiday. We complained in January about putting on those extra pounds from all the drinking, eating and merry-making.

But today, as I sit in a much warmer place by comparison and think of the countdown to Santa’s big visit, I can’t help but miss everything that we complained about then.

I miss the cheery atmosphere. I miss the frost on my window panes. I miss the festive decorations around town. I miss the Christmas carols and the carol singers outside the door. I miss the pulling of those paper Christmas crackers laden with the most obnoxious gifts. I miss the thrill of Secret Santa and excitement of trying to find a thoughtful gift on a shoe-string budget. I miss the delight of the annual office Christmas parties and the kick of a glass of warm mulled wine.

The more I think about it, the more I realise that for me, Christmas is not about the celebration of a day.

Oh no, Christmas is about enjoying the run up to the big day; it’s about the frenzy of finding the right present for your loves ones; it’s about the wrapping of the gifts as inconspicuously as possible; it’s about donating warm clothes to the less fortunate; it’s about enjoying the numerous cups of eggnogs, plates of gingerbread cookies and glasses of mulled wine; it’s about smiling at one another and spreading the cheer; it’s about being with your loved ones.

And of course it’s about less complaining and being thankful for all that we have.

Seasons Greetings all and may all your wishes come true !