Dear Santa, love Gen Z: Christmas wishes you’ve never heard before

Kozhikode: As fairy lights begin to glow across the country and the scent of warm cake and cinnamon curls through December air, the old, familiar magic of Christmas quietly returns.

It is the season when even grown-ups allow themselves a moment of softness, a flicker of belief, a whispered wish sent out into the world. And at the centre of this wish-making stands Santa Claus — timeless, impossibly generous, and forever entrusted with our most hopeful desires.

In conversation with young Indians this week, Mathrubhumi discovered that Gen Z’s Christmas wishlist to Santa is unlike anything the North Pole has likely handled before. Their wishes are tender, chaotic, philosophical, hilarious, exhausted, ambitious — and deeply revealing of the times they live in.

Some wishes reach far beyond personal lives. Sameer Khan, 26, a research aspirant, hopes Santa brings the world a stronger global organisation capable of peacefully resolving inter-state disputes.

For him, this isn’t an abstract ideal but a demand born from urgency — a hope that basic human needs like air, water, healthcare, and education are finally shielded from the greed of political power.

Others are looking inward, craving emotional resilience far more than material possessions. Independent researcher Soumili Paul, 22, wants the strength to remain positive in the year ahead.

Life, she says, “leaves no stone unturned to shove negativity into our daily schedule,” but she wants to face the next 365 days smiling.

Journalist Ria Varghese from Kozhikode, also 22, wishes for something even quieter: a pause. Not a gift that comes in a box — just a pocket of time where everything feels calm, familiar, unhurried, and full of the warmth of the people who matter.

However, not all wishes are philosophical. Some are wonderfully human, like that of 22-year-old MBA student Richik Chakraborty of IIM Kozhikode, whose single, desperate request is that his IndiGo flight home “does not get cancelled,” so he can experience Kolkata in her December embrace. No magic wands, no superpowers — just a flight that departs on time.

Then, of course, there are the gloriously unfiltered, meme-born longings that only Gen Z can articulate. Psychology student Natania, 22, wants to attend any concert anywhere in the world regardless of price, instantly memorise anything she reads, live in a world with no governments, and have the power of invisibility.

And, in classic Gen Z deadpan, she adds a final request: that the world ends within the next decade “because bohot hogaya.”

From New Delhi comes a wish rooted in the digital age. 27-year-old PhD scholar Abida Khatoon hopes Santa brings her a diamond play button — a symbol of virality, validation, and creator culture in 2024. For her, Christmas magic looks like a milestone delivered not by YouTube, but by the man from the North Pole.

And then there is Malhar, 22, a student from Gujarat, whose wishlist dances effortlessly between fantasy, humour, and startling idealism. He imagines a forever-chilled, infinitely refilling mug of Guinness, a cigarette case that magically replenishes itself, a walk-in wardrobe that absorbs any outfit he likes — from people, shops, or reels — and a private island invisible to maps but equipped with unlimited high-speed WiFi.

Yet beneath the theatrics lies a softer core: he wishes humanity would lose the ability to harm others, that people could understand all languages without losing their own culture, and that privacy on the internet would finally be real. In the end, he circles back to earthly joys — a PS5, leather jackets, cowboy boots, a Japan trip, and gadgets he knows his family might actually gift. “It’ll never end,” he laughs, and somehow, that feels like the most Gen Z sentence of all.

For 27-year-old media professional Sutantro Ghosh from Kolkata, Christmas hope looks simpler: a foreign trip with his partner and a PS5 to finally replace his aging PS4. Travel and gaming — two of his greatest comforts — bundled neatly together.

What emerges from these voices is a portrait of a generation dreaming in all directions at once. They want world peace and inner peace, better governance and better cocktails, emotional quiet and viral milestones, on-time flights and invisibility cloaks.

They negotiate adulthood with humour as armour and hope as rebellion. Their wishes are sometimes whimsical, sometimes weary, sometimes wildly unrealistic — but always honest.

If Santa Claus is listening this year, he’ll need not just a sleigh, but perhaps a think-tank, a therapist, a WiFi booster, and a YouTube login. Because Gen Z isn’t just asking for gifts — they’re asking for relief, magic, connection, justice, escape, joy, and possibility.

And maybe that is the most beautiful thing about Christmas:

Even when the world gets heavier, the wishes only get braver.