Dispatches from Mumbai's mall Santas

If cascading white beards made careers, Inderpal Risam would be in dire straits. He'd be ineligible for membership to The Fraternal Order of Real Bearded Santas, The International Brotherhood of Real Bearded Santas and similar associations that take Kris Kringle more seriously than children do. For them, the unreal deal is no deal: you are Santa for much of the year instead of just a day, and that's after you've gone to Santa school and been subject to stringent background checks before being insured. Because who knows when that poor knee will scream 'I give up!' after being sat on by hundreds of kids in a few hours?

But that's the US and this is India, where Santas have cotton beards and sub-par belly paddings because there's respite that most Indian kids know Father Christmas is more a persona than a person. Not that Risam is bad at what he does: if his current itinerary is anything to go by, he's anything but.

"Infiniti Mall Andheri, Infiniti Mall Malad, Viviana Mall Thane, Essel World, KidZania, Worlds of Wonder in Noida," he chimes, checking this year's clients off his roster. Maantraa Events, the Borivali-based company he started in 2000, may have a lot going for it every Christmas, but to say Risam started small would be an underestimation. Paid Rs60 for four hour-shifts in the '90s at Essel World — where he was a rookie clown and then clown supervisor before graduating to Santa Claus — the 39-year-old harks back to the years when Cartoon Network, children's books and Christmas movies were points of reference in an internet-devoid India.

"I'd observe Santa's demeanour around children, how he'd move and laugh," he says. "Then I'd rehearse in front of the mirror. You have to do that to become a good artiste."

Risam foresaw that seasonal job demands would escalate with India's retail boom, and claims he was the first to pitch 'Santa parades' to Mumbai malls. "Disney had all these Santa carnivals abroad. Haan humne concept chori ki unse. I have no problem admitting that."

Indeed, candour is one of Risam's strong suits. "At least aaj kal gore Santa milte hai. Pehle aisa nahi tha," he laughs.

Over 8km south of the Maantraa Events office, Inorbit Mall Malad is readying for a 'Pink Christmas', with a Barbie Meet and Greet today and a Christmas Santa parade with fairies, elves, band boys and masquerade girls. This year's Saint Nicholas is 42-year-old 'Joseph', who works full-time in the entertainment industry and has been a mall Santa for four years now.

"You can't be Santa without abundant patience and love for children," he outlines, adding that he works six-hour shifts on Christmas. "And of course, energy — for which I drink lots of water, nimbu paani and sometimes, coffee to rejuvenate."

Santa 101 requires that those essaying the role never promise youngsters what they can't have. So how does one deal with children whose X'mas gift wishes aren't fulfilled? "I tell them they will get whatever is in their share… that when you get too much in one go, it loses value. And that being content with what you have is a blessing. Kids are far more understanding than we think them to be," Joseph feels.

Twenty-two-year-old Vinay Thakur, who's been a mall Santa five years running, agrees. He reckons Indian kids aren't demanding. "They know they'll get either chocolates or chhote-mote gifts. The only problem is when crowds surge to such an extent that we run out of presents. If that happens, I spend more time and distribute more sweets to kids. They accept anything, as long as it's given with love," he smiles.

The hurdle of being a mall Santa, he adds, is the lack of space compared to amusement parks. Everyone follows you for a handshake and to click pictures while you're distributing gifts, conducting activities and listening to children. "It was awkward at first, but kids help shed your inhibitions," he adds. "This is better than having a full-time office job that pins me to the desk. I don't even realise how time flies."

Most malls invite pitches from event companies, and the best concepts and 'rates' are what matter. And how are the Santas chosen? Maantraa Events announces auditions on Facebook and gets the word out through WhatsApp before gauging candidates' affability, behaviour with kids and yes, physicality. As Inderpal Risam puts it, "Aisa nahi ki mota banda aa gaya toh humne unko character de diya. But thin people can never become Santa."

Maantraa pays Santas Rs2,500 of the Rs4,000 paid by malls for three-hour shifts. "Because after tax, I get Rs3,500 in hand and need to cover expenses for make-up, basic training and costumes. We don't have shoddy costumes like others do," he says. "Delhi malls offer better rates. They'll even pay Rs6,000 if you ask for it."

Popular culture may have cemented the image of the jaded mall Santa, but for this lot, the job is anything but banal. They do feel mall Santas are under-appreciated and considered menial, despite them honing the craft to the best of their abilities and given tools.

Joseph, who starts preparing games a fortnight before Christmas itself, recalls his most memorable encounter that drives home why he took up this job:

"As I was wrapping up a Christmas party, a child of around five-six years started pulling my Santa sleeve. I had run out of gifts, and his mother, seeing my plight, came to my rescue. But the boy pointed to my hat, because that's all he wanted. When I offered it to him, he gave me a hug so warm, it has stayed with me ever since."