The moment I was asked what sort of Christmas celebration would be “appropriate”, alarm bells started ringing. As I collected Roshini, my three-year-old daughter, from her nursery, the head teacher Miss T said she wanted to organise a nativity play “with a difference”.

So different that, from what I was hearing, it didn’t have a lot to do with Christmas.

“I think any play that we do has to make the children more socially aware, and I don’t want it to be too faith specific,” said Miss T.

I always thought Christmas is about one faith, just as Diwali is about Hinduism and Eid is about Islam.

“When the children in the nursery celebrate Diwali, don’t you make it clear to them that it’s a Hindu festival, and when they celebrate Eid, it’s made clear to them that it’s a Muslim festival?” I protested. “So what’s wrong with Christmas being a Christian festival?”

The stakes were high. Roshini had been excited for weeks about being in her first nativity play. We had bought her an angel costume. Was I instead going to be showing her photographs in 20 years’ time of her playing the part of a Big Issue seller? No disrespect to Big Issue sellers, but it’s not quite the same as appearing as an angel in your first nativity play.

“Look, your first socially aware play,” I could hear myself saying.

Unless I wanted my daughter mentally scarred for life, I had to fight for Jesus, Mary and the gang.

I told Miss T I had only known one “appropriate” Christmas celebration throughout my life: the children dress up as Mary, Joseph, three wise men, angels and so on.

They fumble through their lines, or often don’t say them at all, as a flurry of flashes goes off from proud parents taking photographs. Then Father Christmas comes in, hands out some presents and does a few rounds of “Ho, ho, ho”.

There might be some mince pies and tea for the adults, some chocolates and sweets for the children, and everybody goes home happy. Simple.

I further pointed out that even though the majority of the children in the nursery are not from Christian backgrounds, there are plenty of cultural factors linking them to the Christmas story. It all took place in the Middle East; Jesus was probably brown – like most of the children in the nursery - and the three wise men originated from the Orient, “just like most of these kids”.

Almost 90% of the nursery is made up of ethnic minority children. Yet they were all looking forward to taking part in their first nativity play. The only point of contention was who would play Mary and Joseph.

Discussions with Miss T continued for a couple of days while I canvassed the views of other parents, who agreed with me that they wanted a traditional nativity play. I sensed that Miss T needed a bit more persuading so I threatened to alert the tabloid press how she planned to “break the hearts” of two and three-year-olds.

Miss T was not unique. Reports of nativity plays being banned, the word “Christmas” being replaced with “winterval” or being banned altogether, and of workers being prevented from celebrating Christmas have become common.

It is all too much for Trevor Phillips, chairman of the Equality and Human Rights Commission, who said recently: “Let’s stop being daft ... it’s fine to celebrate Christmas.”

He thought it was “baffling to welcome Eid, Diwali and Hanukah in celebration of glorious diversity, while brushing Christmas under the carpet as an embarrassing episode in our monocultural past”.

The excuse usually trotted out when Christmas is under attack is that celebrating it might cause offence to ethnic minorities. But during the course of my entire life in Britain I have yet to meet an ethnic minority person who finds Christmas offensive. In my experience it is usually well-meaning, white, liberal people who impose the bans on Christmas festivities.

As I pointed out to Miss T, not a single parent had approached her and raised objections to a nativity play. She was the one who had a problem with Christmas: she automatically assumed that having a traditional nativity play would cause offence.

She protested that she was only trying to be sensitive, but she eventually admitted it was offensive and patronising of her to assume how I and other ethnic minority parents would react to a traditional nativity play.

I am often asked if I celebrate Christmas and my reply usually surprises people. I do not consider myself to be a Christian, but that does not stop me from taking part in what I consider to be as much a cultural festival as a religious one. I have plenty of white Anglo-Saxon friends who feel exactly the same way about Christmas.

The Christmas tree in the Chaudhary household went up last week. Christmas dinner is usually given a bit of an Indian twist with garam masala rubbed onto the turkey (I bet Jamie Oliver never thought of that one) before being thrust into the oven, and the sprouts and potatoes are sprinkled with red chilli powder.

We sit around a table for dinner, exchange presents, get bored with the repeats on television and usually fall asleep by late afternoon, having drunk and eaten too much.

We might not go to church, but there are plenty of other people in this country, regardless of race, who don’t go either.

I know lots of other Asian people, particularly those of Indian origin, who celebrate in the same way. In fact, as far as the Indian community in Britain is concerned, it likes nothing better than a festival that brings together family, and involves eating and giving presents.

My daughter’s nativity play, you will be glad to hear, went ahead as it should. There were no references to social issues - just carols, Joseph, Mary, shepherds, the three wise men and the angels.

Roshini fulfilled her ambition of playing an angel, but when her big moment arrived she contracted stage fright and didn’t say her lines. That didn’t stop me from beaming with pride of course as I took lots of photographs of her nativity debut.

Presents were handed out by a black Father Christmas; the multi-racial, multi-religious gathering of parents and children had tea and mince pies and other goodies; the children exchanged cards and Christmas presents with each other; and nobody was offended, not even Miss T, who appeared to enjoy herself as much as everybody else.

As we headed home we all wished each other a happy Christmas. So, whatever your race or faith, a very happy Christmas to you all.

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