Season's Greetings to All: The Season is Here Again

"Thank God It's New Year," said an illustrated 'greetings' card I got from a Times of India colleague on Jan One in 1998. The illustration showed Laxman's Common Man on the run, getting away from the precipice of a plateau, as fast as his dhoti would permit. The precipice was crumbling round the edges. The plateau symbolized 1998. Somewhere in the dark valley down below, amid a clutter of debris, was a partly visible signpost marked 1997, from where our Common Man had trekked his way up and clambered on to the plateau.

R K Laxman's cartoon card is a collector's item. Its message is just as relevant today. Many of us would probably be drinking to "Thank-God-it's-new-year" when we clink glasses at the dawn of 2007. "Thank-God" is an enduring theme that should hold good for many, many more new years to come.

Speaking of new year themes, another notable card I received some time back this season carried a one-word message, "Peace", with its translation in 54 languages. Peace is another enduring theme, insofar as it is something we can go on aspiring for ever, but never accomplish. "Pax" is the word for peace in Latin; it's "pingan" in Chinese. That peace doesn't mean quite the same thing for everyone (for Israelis and Palestinians, for instance) is quite another matter. For those with a flair for languages I reproduce the glossary of peace words picked out from the e-greetings sent by Revathi and Raj Nataraj in Houston.

Afrikaans, Dutch Vrede;
Lakhota Wolakota;
Albanian La Paqe;
Arabic Salam;
Latvian Miers;
Armenian Khanhaghutyun;
Malay Aman;
Basque Bake;
Maltese Paci;
Bengali Shanti;
Bosnian Mir;
Nepali Saanti;
Norwegian Fred;
Pali Nirudho;
Czech Mir;
Polish Pokoj;
Danish Fred;
Portuguese A Paz;
Romanian La Pace;
Farsi Ashtee;
Russian Mir;
Filipino Kapayapaan;
Samoan Filemu;
French La Paix;
German Der Frieden;
Spanish La Paz;
Swahili Aman;
Hawaiian Maluhia;
Tamil Amaithi;
Hebrew Shalom;
Hindi Shanti;
Thai Santipap;
Turkish Sulh;
Indonesian Damai;
Japanese Heiwa;
Urdu Aman;
Welsh Hedd;
Yiddish Sholim;
Zulu Ukuthula.

Isn't this instructive? Such cards are welcome. I wouldn't say the same about most other greetings cards I get this time of the year from relatives, friends and associates. The very idea of sending someone a message conveying your feelings is lost in a printed card. Surely, you don't need to borrow words from an anonymous designer of a fancy greetings card to express emotions, to convey your feelings. Those you care about merit a handwritten note. Printed cards are okay when you want to share with others, as the Natarajs have done, our common concerns for peace, social justice, education for all or an AIDS-free world.

Come December, we pull out of the bottom draw the dog-eared file marked "Christmas/New Year mailing list." Even those of us who realize the pointlessness of the exercise (not to speak of its expense) find ourselves helpless in the face of the tyranny of social conformity. You do it because it is the done thing. Most people would not miss your card. Sending greeting cards has been an annual ritual with billions the world over that post-offices in the US, UK and other European countries hire temporary help for sorting the spate of Christmas mail.

Greeting cards are big business. Apart from exploiting traditional festivals such as Pongal, Onam, Diwali and Dussera, the greeting cards industry has invented a host of "special occasions" to promote sales all round the year - Lover's day, Friendship day, Teacher's day, Father's day, Mother's day and the like. I have not, however, heard of a Mother-in-law's day. Perhaps, it is not commercially viable for the trade to promote an in-law's day.

And then there are e-cards people send merely because they exist on the Internet, and they are free-to-mail; and also because some of us are too lazy to write addresses on envelopes and lick and post them. Any Tom, Ram or Rahim with Internet access can and does send e-cards. Frustratingly for recipients, some e-cards come with music. And they tend to clog your inbox. I can't think of anything more impersonal or so devoid of grace.