Some Santas give gifts…
Some Santas give joy…
My Santa gives me HOMEWORK, EMOTIONAL DAMAGE & A DAILY IDENTITY CRISIS.
But hey—at least it's entertaining.
Buckle up, Santa. This roast is for you.
TASK–3 ROAST
Santa… my beloved villain… you have pushed me through things even Netflix writers won’t imagine.
DAY 1 – Blindfold Picasso Disaster
You told me to draw my crush blindfolded.
Santa, why do you believe in my artistic talent more than me??
Even my pencil was confused like:
“Behan, what are we making? A face? A map? A potato?”
DAY 2 – Proposing to a Mosquito
A mosquito, Santa?
You made me so desperate I proposed to the same insect that gives me dengue vibes.
My self-respect quietly packed its luggage and left.
DAY 3 – Singing in 6 Languages
Santa… are you trying to get me hired for a world tour Guide?
Because at this point even Spotify is scared of me.
I sang in so many languages, even Google Translate gave up.
DAY 4 – Brother–Sister Mission
You made me call random lovely users didi/bhaiya.
Congratulations Santa, now 90% of the server thinks I opened a family charity organization.
DAY 5 – Roast Yourself Challenge
You said:“ Ask 4 people to roast you. Also roast yourself.”
Santa, even villains take a break.
This was emotional DAMAGE with a festive ribbon on top.
DAY 6 – Become Your Own Santa
You outsourced your job to me.
I see what you did.
I asked for joy; you gave me project management.
OVERALL SUMMARY OF MY SUFFERING
My brain = 99% Santa trauma, 1% hope.
My Google history = “romantic proposal for mosquitoes.”
My inner peace = somewhere lost between Day 3 and Day 5.
My patience = buffering… indefinitely.
Santa, your tasks have more twists than an Ekta Kapoor serial and more drama than a Telugu movie climax.
But you know what?
With all this madness, chaos, confusion and psychological torture…
you still made me laugh, learn, and feel alive.
You’re not just a Santa—
you’re the sweetest villain of my Christmas story.
So here’s
my final line:
“Santa, thank you for this journey…
Next year, please gift me PEACE, not PROJECTS.”
Some Santas give joy…
My Santa gives me HOMEWORK, EMOTIONAL DAMAGE & A DAILY IDENTITY CRISIS.
But hey—at least it's entertaining.
Buckle up, Santa. This roast is for you.
TASK–3 ROAST
Santa… my beloved villain… you have pushed me through things even Netflix writers won’t imagine.
DAY 1 – Blindfold Picasso Disaster
You told me to draw my crush blindfolded.
Santa, why do you believe in my artistic talent more than me??
Even my pencil was confused like:
“Behan, what are we making? A face? A map? A potato?”
DAY 2 – Proposing to a Mosquito
A mosquito, Santa?
You made me so desperate I proposed to the same insect that gives me dengue vibes.
My self-respect quietly packed its luggage and left.
DAY 3 – Singing in 6 Languages
Santa… are you trying to get me hired for a world tour Guide?
Because at this point even Spotify is scared of me.
I sang in so many languages, even Google Translate gave up.
DAY 4 – Brother–Sister Mission
You made me call random lovely users didi/bhaiya.
Congratulations Santa, now 90% of the server thinks I opened a family charity organization.
DAY 5 – Roast Yourself Challenge
You said:“ Ask 4 people to roast you. Also roast yourself.”
Santa, even villains take a break.
This was emotional DAMAGE with a festive ribbon on top.
DAY 6 – Become Your Own Santa
You outsourced your job to me.
I see what you did.
I asked for joy; you gave me project management.
OVERALL SUMMARY OF MY SUFFERING
My brain = 99% Santa trauma, 1% hope.
My Google history = “romantic proposal for mosquitoes.”
My inner peace = somewhere lost between Day 3 and Day 5.
My patience = buffering… indefinitely.
Santa, your tasks have more twists than an Ekta Kapoor serial and more drama than a Telugu movie climax.
But you know what?
With all this madness, chaos, confusion and psychological torture…
you still made me laugh, learn, and feel alive.
You’re not just a Santa—
you’re the sweetest villain of my Christmas story.
So here’s
my final line:
“Santa, thank you for this journey…
Next year, please gift me PEACE, not PROJECTS.”
But trust me, more than my santa, I'm eager to see who is your Santa 
where is Your Venna biscuit 
