maa asche...

It is that time of the year again. The period which I look forward to the entire year. Durga Puja is coming.Its only a matter of days now, as entire Calcutta (i like it that way) gears up to welcome Maa and is lit up in glorious lights, I sit here far, far away from the hub of that one festival I geared up for at least a month ago when I was growing up. Now I am chasing memories, sometimes falling head over heels, getting up again, swallowing that lump in my throat, which I’d like to think of as nostalgia.I can't wait to get back home.

Nostalgia, memories, food and Durga Puja festivities are inseparable.I am thinking on the lines of waking up one crisp, sunny Autumn morning to the intoxicating fragrance of 'Shiuli phool', or rolling in bed to the mellifluous chants of Mahalaya. Wearing a new dress to the 'Pujobari', pandal-hopping like there is no tomorrow, and not even complaining about the shoe bite from which your feet are painfully aching now, and mind you shoe-bite is a serious problem during Durga Puja.

The days leading upto the pujas are usually the most exciting,with plenty of shopping,addaz and so many other fun stuffs.The silvery stalks of slender ‘Kashful’ swaying to the changing winds, the air would be heavy with the ‘pujo pujo gondho'. A willowy breeze would tingle the senses towards evening and a thin blanket would inadvertently need to be curled around our sleeping selves towards morn – the beauty of autumn, the ushering in of winter.

I remember, as the weather readied itself for the Pujo, so did we. Hopping through each others places, we would marvel at the ‘Pujo collections’ from Mamas,Mashis,Pishis and Kakus. More than us, it would be a routine affair for family ladies to be at each other places, apparently to exchange pleasantries, but more so to make sure that nothing in-fashion had managed to elude their entourage! "Pujor Bajar sesh?" would be the ubiquitous question to almost everyone we crossed paths with.

kashful

So,as all those memories come flashing back to me, as I am writing this,I realize that I had planned to put in so many things, but just as the Puja, as with life, nothing goes as planned, and frankly who cares,as long as we have a good time. Pujos are moments of shared joy: of precious memories of walking into a pandal with my parents to see what seemed enormous murtis at age five, fretting over new dresses over the teenage years, hanging out with friends as we grow up and share the joy of seeing Ma Durga in all her splendor all over again.

Maa is coming home..So,am I..:)