The benevolent days between Christmas and New Year

There is a short, gentle stretch of time every year… somewhere between Christmas and the first few days of January… when the Gods seem unusually benevolent. Less strict. Less hurried. Almost as if they, too, are easing into the new year, stretching after a long cosmic work cycle.

I noticed it this time when my helping hand at home informed me she would be taking leave.

“Why?” I asked, instinctively glancing at the sink, already brimming with unwashed dishes.

“Jishu ko puja karna chahiye,” she said simply. Jesus, apparently, required worship. On a working day. At her sister’s place. With full sincerity and zero apology.

Before I could protest, she added helpfully, “Aur New Year mein bhi bhagawan aa jata hai.”

God comes on New Year as well.

Not that we go to God. Not that we remember Him. He arrives. Like an honoured guest. You clean the house, cook something decent, and behave yourself, at least for a day.

It is hard to argue with a worldview so efficient.

From Christmas onward, the atmosphere changes. People who haven’t entered a place of worship all year suddenly light lamps “for positivity.” Homes smell of incense and cake at the same time. Everyone is either fasting, feasting, or making vague promises to improve their lives after “things settle down.”

The watchman in my housing wished me Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and… one day later, “All the best for everything.” Everything. Health, career, family, destiny. Even EMIs, unspoken but clearly included. No exclusions.

House helps understand this season better than anyone. One of them said, with complete conviction, “Iss time bhagawan zyada naraz nahi hote.” (At this time, God doesn’t get very angry.)

Mistakes are forgiven. Tempers are slower to flare. Even fate seems willing to negotiate. Pending matters are postponed.

Consequences feel softer. That is why people take emotional risks in early January. They send messages they had been rehearsing for months. They forgive relatives. They sign up for diets, gyms, and optimism, before reality clocks back in and reminds them of deadlines and monthly deductions.

My maid returned after the New Year, slightly late and entirely unbothered.

“Sab ho gaya?” I asked.

“Ho gaya,” she said cheerfully. “Jesus bhi, bhagawan bhi. Dono khush.”

Both are happy.

It felt like the most diplomatic religious settlement imaginable.

There is something deeply reassuring about this casual pluralism. No debates. No arguments. Just a shared understanding that divinity, during this season, is generous and easily accessible. You don’t need perfect rituals. Just intention, and maybe a holiday.

Perhaps that is why January 1 lasts only a day.

If it lingered longer, we would get lazy with kindness. We would postpone forgiveness. We would assume the Gods are always this accommodating. But the brevity makes us sincere. For one day, we call people we have avoided. We let go of grudges we have nursed for years. We tell ourselves, earnestly, that this year will be different, even knowing it probably won’t be.

And maybe the Gods enjoy that optimism. That stubborn human habit of starting over, no matter how many times we have failed.

By January 2, most of us are already drifting back to routine. Offices reopen. Resolutions wobble. Annoyances reappear. EMIs resume duty. But something softer still lingers in the air… a faint aftertaste of grace.

The Gods haven’t left yet. They are just finishing their tea.

So if you feel a little lighter today, a little more forgiving, a little more hopeful for no particular reason… don’t question it. Use it.

Make the call. Say the kind word. Let something go.

After all, as my maid reminded me, bhagawan abhi bhi aas-paas hi hote hain.

God is still around.

Just in a very good mood.

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