Decades ago, when I was a child, I used to keenly wait for December because our family had a special date with Christmas day. It was not about celebrating the big event at our place.

We did that by visiting two friendly Christian families, greeting them, paying obeisance to Lord Jesus before the colourful tableau created by their children and partaking of the much sought after Christmas cake.

But as I said Christmas had a special significance for our family. Every year it used to remind us of our family’s links with the English rulers and the consequential distinctive social status we enjoyed.

A British entrepreneur, Mr Sparling, had established a locks manufacturing factory in Aligarh (in the then United Province of Agra and Oudh) sometime around 1900. The unit was said to be one of its kind that contributed to making the city known for its locks. It was managed by my grandfather for the English owners. The firm enjoyed near absolute monopoly in British-ruled India. It earned a name not only in the subcontinent but in other countries as well. The patented locks of the firm, their sturdiness and dependability paid rich dividends and brought prosperity to the scores of workers, artisans and other employees.

I was told by my late father that at some stage the employees were reminded of the benevolence of the English owners and told about the desirability of expressing their gratitude to them. The workers were encouraged to gift what was called in local parlance ‘daali’ as a token of reverence for “Sparling sahib and his family” on the occasion of Christmas which was a major and the only festival for them. The suggestion was well taken.

Happy workers pooled their resources and arranged a lavish ‘daali’ which was composed of substantial quantities of dry fruits such as cashews, almonds, pistachio, walnuts, raisins, a variety of fruits and Indian sweets. These were placed in cane baskets duly decorated with roses and garlands of marigold flowers.

Not being familiar with spirit-based perfumes those days, the workers presented to Mr Sparling and others in his family the best of indigenously made oil based ‘Attar’.

Come Christmas and the employees would enthusiastically arrange the best of stuff for the boss to be presented on ‘bada din’ (the big day). I did not know why the workers called it ‘bada din’.

Maybe, the illiterate and semiliterate workers were unable to pronounce Christmas. So, calling it ‘bada din’ solved their problem and at the same time very appropriately highlighted the significance of the day, that marks the birth of Jesus.

One version is that one of the week days around Christmas happens to be the longest (bada din) of the winter season.

Around 1938, the British family decided to go back to their native country. They sold the factory, the huge bungalow and the massive land appurtenant to it to my grandfather. However, the practice of offering ‘daali’ continued, the new recipient being my grandfather. He died in 1948 but the tradition continued, now the new recipient being my grandmother.

Glorious days

That was the time when I had a full view of the ‘daali’ and heard the full story about it and the glorious days of our locks business. When the factory workers were placing all the baskets and packets of delectable items in our drawing room, the entire place was filled with fragrance of the marigold flowers.

Five years after independence, that is, in 1952 when India became a Republic, my father told the factory workers that with the British having gone back, the practice of offering ‘daali’ should also cease. They agreed.

Since then I miss the grandeur that was associated with the event — mainly the strong fragrance of fresh marigold flowers and the aroma of fruits and sweets.

So many years have gone by since then but the memories of the ‘bada din’ continue to haunt me. That fragrance was so fresh and stimulating that some times I feel it lives in my nostrils even today. Today, whenever I sniff a marigold flower I feel transported to those good old days.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.