Tomorrow is
Mahalaya. At my home,tomorrow early morning baba draws Maa Durga’s eye (‘chokkhu daan’) on the yellow-golden painted idol…Maa tunes in the radio station for Birendra Krishna Bhadra's divine voice.. once upon a time me and my brother used to wake up 4.30AM half-a-sleep for Mahalaya show in DD Bangla ..but tomorrow I will wake up in the midnight to catch a flight to fly back home.
By now some
thousands of Pandals are already halfway ready, giving their finishing touch. Most TV
channels have started competition of “Sera Pujo 2014” (Best Pandals in the basis of
different categories -Decoration, Innovation, Environment friendliness, Power
consumption, Lighting, Team work, New Thought etc).
Most of my
Bengali girl friends and cousins have been chatting over WatsApp about the old but ever green topic – “Kota
jama holo? Ki Saree Kinli” (How many dresses have you got? Which is the most
special saree you have bought for this year Pujo?), well the guys are little
boring though (LOL). Mothers are eagerly waiting for their children to come
back home, literally marking the calendar dates. In the communities, big heads
are discussing the Puja Menu over the 5 days (oops this year pujo is only for 4
days). Kiddies are counting their new shoes, new cloths again and again and
hoping how many they will get further when uncle come home. The footpaths are flooded by temporary hawkers, if I close my eyes I can visualise the Gariahat Market or Esplanade ,
the adrenalin rush over the bargain, the surprises by pick pockets, the bagful
of fragrances of new cloths, new shoes, new bags, new junk jewelries.
Durga-puja
is not merely a festival in Kolkata. It’s a spirit! Or may be one can say, it's the Spirit of Kolkata.
Last year,
around the same time I posted about the Idol-making process at my home. It’s
quite a delighting memory to remember again and again.
During this time of period, both me and my
brother’s First Term Exam (kind of Half-yearly exam) used to get over. So we
would have made our long term plan and ways to have a blast on puja. My brother
used to go to Mom and demanded for plastic pistols and Paper-caps (kind of
sound cracker which you can put in the pistol like cartridge). I used to go to
Maa and asked her if she could manage little time so that we both can go out and buy some fancy items like
Clip, matching bangles with frocks and churidar, ear-rings and rubber bands of
different colors to match the dress, sequined dopattas. So my Maa’s job was to
accompany me and brother in our mission and invest on demand!! Some time our
demand used to vary, for example brother would ask for plastic sunglasses
(Yeah, I think we’ve got few old photographs with those sunglasses) and I used
to demand of an extra pink nail polish (I still remember Puja vacation used to
be the only time I could enjoy applying Nail-polish, otherwise other time Nail
Polish meat punishment in Prayer lines!). But this was a time in the year,
where all extra demands used to get fulfilled.
Mothers are
always beautiful and nice, isn’t it? I wish I can fulfill all her small and
simple demands now, most of them can’t be bought by money though.
In those
days we had no concept of “Pocket money”, at least at my home. But still I used
to have some yearly income of 50 Rupees. Most of them used to come from our
grandparents and from baba who unlike other times, used to give 20 Rupees to
all of our cousins after we’d tough elder’s feet on Dussera. It was a family
custom and wickedly a source of income for me as well J.
For 5 days
of puja (Stating from 6th day to 10th day Dussera), all of our siblings
and cousins used to follow preplanned dresses. Sasti morning, Sasti evening, Saptami morning …till Dussera morning.
It may
surprise you, during that time although our father used to buy 2 clothes
for each of us, but as it’s a custom to give and exchange new dresses to close relatives,
we ended up having 8 to 10 dresses. Durgastami or the 8th day of the
puja is the most important for us, so best dresses used to be kept for that
day.Especially for Astami Pushpanjali.
During those 5 days, the rooms , the veranda
and stair cases gets filled by the fragrance of Dhoop and Camphor. The
fragrance of the puja used to stay alive at our home for next one month after
dussera.
My city
Kolkata, a city which I had left some 6 years back and watching over the rise
and fall like a spectator from far.
A city
which I blame for leaving home, as like me thousands of fresh young faces leaving their root, their old parents , their saddened mother due to lack of good work,
lack of facilities, turtle slow development, flooded footpath with “bekar” we
name them “jobless”, Game of Thrones over Writer’s Building , students bleeding
and fighting for their rights, Kolkata a city of “Bandh – be it Taxi, Bus, All
Party, Red Party, Green Party, Yellow/Blue /Purple Party”, the city of Joy is corroding to a city of frustration, anger, senselessly aggressive Lathi-charge and Yet the Hope.
But at the
same time, it’s a city where I have grown up. My childhood, education, my first
paycheck, my first bi-cycle, my first awakened dream, my first Park-Street excursion in New year as a kid or my first Hard-rock Cafe .
Have
been so many places around India, but nobody can beat the simplicity of
Kolkata! Be it the simple Jhal-muri ( a simpler version of Bhel puri), be it a
simple “Bumba da r movie with 2-3 dream sequence and 1 action packed climax
scene”, be it the daily commuters in local trains who plays card even while
standing or the hawkers who still sell the 5 Rupees handkerchiefs.
So this post is all about the Fall of Autumn festival, its aroma and glory. A crack of dawn tomorrow will enlighten the sky of City of Joy with the spirit of “Durga Pujo”.
The amusement
around this season, the merriment to get together again, the feeling of
fulfilment sitting in the cane chair on your balcony and watching over the arrival
of Idol in Para-Pandal and the home
coming of millions of Bengali – nothing the match the power of this spirit.
May the
Holy Spirit of the Mother bless the city and give it the spirit to fight back and
rise up again, in the darkest hours!
