My name is Santa Claus, the saintly Nicholas you kids and grown-ups chase with a huge shopping list. Like hell, I carry stack of goodies, letters in the backpacks that’s breaking my back, right now. Oho! Enjoying my single status to the hilt, sipping the wine atop the desert, windy alps, smoking the grass and hi-five to the world. Come and beat that!! You think I am a lonely Santa! Think again! Enjoying my single status, hopping places, seas and mountains to bring in joy, munching on ma litchis. Decked in red, that’s my forte! How come, no kid told you that!! Gentle pat on your bootiya.
Oho!! So much cribbing..Santa be good to me, I’ve been a good boy, make me rich, send the moolah to buy branded clothes, get me a new car, new girl friend, make me a politician to loot the people. Attaboy!!! So much wishes. Now, who claim to be good dudes and babes of the world!!! Have doubt of the self-claimed Mr and Mrs clean spot. Now, that my back is your punching oops goodies bags, everyone is good boy and gal. How selfish, kiddos of the world to caress butter milk on your Santa Claus. Oh!!! Boy!!! I need a massage and not whatsapp message, yaar.
You crib about the Government, economy and powers of the world. How optimist! You think me wearing the garb of Santa has the solution in my pocket and like magician, I’ll turn your life into gold. You waste ink on paper, molly-coddling me that you were perfect this year and wait in anticipation decorating your X-mas tree with my mirror image, bells and trinkets, Nah! I shall not reveal myself to you coz I am no Dumbledore. Ok! He looks like my half-blood brother but I ain’t the half blood prince.
Thirsty I am. But, do you care what your Santa does to visit you? You screw my brain with weird demands..should I reveal that you ask for kinky sex and hide notes to bribe me? One day, I shall expose you, buddy!!!!! You secretly dream of Deepika, wishing that she would find the prince charming in you. Babe! Stop laughing. You dream of Ranbir wooing you to death. It’s X-mas!!! Not Rahul Gandhi counting chicken before the eggs in true Pappu style. Just because NaMo said Ab Ache Din Aa Hi Gaaye, you think, I will refrain the song. I am no NaMo. Okay! Agree, our beards are whitish but we no brothers. I don’t enjoy the same privilege as PM NaMo and he is no Santa Claus. You live in illusion, thinking I am Santa but where is my Banta.
See! I got no love life!!! How about you giving me Mother or babe X-mas..whatever you choose, I’ll blush, romancing my Banta saying yes to me. O! Selfish beings of the world, you only know about your ‘self’. Not for once, you thought about the well-being of your Santa. What do you know!!! How many pancakes I sold to visit you once a year. I see you sleeping, drunk to the flavor of wine…dreaming of gifts and money. Should I tell you a secret? Actually a question, you forgetting about passion but only apna sapna money money. I can only laugh at your foolishness!! Stop dreaming about money! Work for it. Short cut never pays with me coz your Santa toils every year, fighting demons, nature to journey in your abode of dream, to sell you crap. See!! I am paid by the crony capitalists to sell their stuffs in malls in the name of technology.
You idiot!! Stop updating this Facebook status of yours by copy-and-paste my pics..wishing everyone Merry X-mas. Copy cats. Anyways!!!! See you next year and gimme a break from your letters and shopping bags.
With Love from Your Santa minus Banta kyon ki Chrissy Mass hai toh wish Banta hai boss