The fantasies that once were



My brother and I grew up believing in the existence of Santa Claus. We would get two gifts each, one from our parents and the other from the big guy dressed in red. Of course we never saw him, yet, we believed in him. Then we were told the truth, which we then told our cousins, sitting around the Mulberry bush. After a long discussion, we decided we were being lied to. Santa Claus did exist; our parents were playing some cruel prank on us. At some point, a few Christmases later, we grew up and slowly accepted that Santa didn’t in fact exist.

The Tooth Fairy also existed in my childhood. I would wait for a tooth to fall, just so I could hide it under my pillow. In the morning, I would find a small amount of cash instead of the tooth. I can’t remember if the Tooth Fairy stopped existing when my teeth stopped falling, or if the realization came to me before that.

We were also told tales of faraway lands where dragons and elves lived; where princes saved princesses from their high towers. Winnie the Pooh and Mickey Mouse existed. We eagerly waited for our most favorite cartoons. They were not about people killing each other. There was no romance or hate. These were cartoons with talking animals and babies. Where the issues the characters faced were simple. They were cartoons meant for children.

Death is a topic usually kept away from children. An older relative once told me about the ‘talk’ he had with his grandchildren about death. How they were slowly warmed towards the idea of people disappearing from your life. I was never given that talk. I went for funerals and maybe, I didn’t understand the concept of death. I did understand though, that people died. Yet, as a kid, when any of our pets died, I would cry. Slowly, as we grew we realized that death was part of life. It was the way out of the labyrinth of life. Growing up isn’t only about counting the number of birthdays you have celebrated or how much you have grown physically. Part of growing up is to understand things and let knowledge shape your beliefs.

Of course, such knowledge didn’t make life easier, but it made us more realistic. We knew the ways of life. Not always by choice. Circumstances made my brother and I grow up before many others of our age. We may have stopped believing in fantasy before many others. Yet, this is what stopped us from getting lost in our dreams.

We may have stopped believing in fairy tales but we didn’t curb our imaginations. You can be 40 and still cry when Mufasa dies in The Lion King. You can be a mature adult, read fantasy novels and actually enjoy them more than a child would.

However, having a clear idea of realism is not as good as it sounds. Reality disappoints. When we are told that Santa Claus isn’t real, the extra gifts under the tree disappear. We realize the reindeer and sleigh never existed. Christmas is not special as it once was. We grow up in a way that can’t be undone. The truths about life make us more cynical. We question things and smirk at what seems too unrealistic. When we stop believing in unicorns, we expect others to also stop believing. We let adulthood make us terribly boring and unimaginative human beings.

Nearly an adult now, I look at kids with envy. They still can afford to indulge in such fantasies. The escape from reality is still an affordable pleasure to them. Yet, I can’t help wondering if they are given the opportunity to imagine, if the kids of today are too weighed down by those heavy school bags they carry to school each day.

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