Two days to go for Christmas and I landed in Rome at 6 A.M. in the morning. I boarded the train to Marta Battistini Metro Station from where my friend promised to pick me. I was then waiting for the friend outside the metro station, and being a foreigner morning hustle-bustle of people in another part of the world attracted my attention to their minute banal realities of ordinary life. I was about to realise that life is all same everywhere, but suddenly, I saw a thin, tall and white skinned man in red and white fur clothes. I was astonished to see Santa Clause begging for cents in a clear auspicious pre-Christmas morning in Rome, the heart of Christianity, the birthplace of Western Civilisation, and the first ever metropolis in the world. The first encounter of daily life in Rome where Santa was begging for cents, and that too explicitly ignored by bypassers left me into splits. My last one week journey in Italy from Venice, Milan, and Pisa to Rome engulfed my bewildered mind which could not relate to this avatar of Santa begging on the street. The sight of labouring black and brown people, and other gipsy beggars near Battistini metro station now more appeared meaningful in totality, though demeaning in reality it was. The symbolic presence of begging Santa eventually relaxed my strained nervous system that caught me in the tentacles of woeful plight of refugees in Europe. Soon my friend arrived, I left few cents to this Santa from my already emptied pockets, and walked away from the explicit sites of free slavery where silent wars are constantly fought on the bodies of common people.