durga pujo

it's sometime around october 2005,i am sitting in one of my "not so favourite" classes of linear algebra and complex numbers,the professor is writing some long equations and rumbling on about it, and no matter how hard i try, nothin helps! my mind keeps racin back to some 2000 kilometers.its shoshti, and m sitting in a class!a few years back,i couldnt even have imagined this..nonetheless, each and every moment of all the durga pujos i have seen, came racing back like a playlist of best memories playin one after the another.

being a "probashi bangali" has its own advantages even if u have to miss out on the mainstream.you kind of get to taste both the worlds-i mean the bengali and the non-bengali:)and i am one such specimen:)still, i am lucky enough to have been at the heart of everythin-"kumartuli".its where all the protimaas are made, all round the year,sent all over india and even abroad, in makeshift workshop kind of places and the artists still work round the clock to make ends meet.my grandparents live in a century old, typical north calcutta house,with human size windows that open into the regular bustling of the haat and a two minute walk from kashimitra ghat.i remember holdin my dadu's hands and watchin "kola bou chan" ritual as he explained me the whole thing.as a kid, after the initial struggling years of my family was over, i couldnt wait to get into the new dresses!the sounds of dhak, ghonta,shaakh,hulu were like some good old movie u can always watch any number of times..then theres always the trademark "para-competitions" in painting, conch blowin,dhunochi dance,etc etc :).

a bengali at heart is always a bhojon roshik!be it in the pandal side stalls or any restaurant.it was always and excuse fr dida to get an off from cookin and tryin out neighbourhood restaurants:)the crowd is so overwhelming, it seems that the whole city is out on the streets and all eateries have a tough time managing people in their space.once u have finished eatin,u wil be politely frisked away to let others in:)

pandal hoppin(as they say nowadays) is something i can never get enough of!from the depiction of terror attacks on twin towers,to niagara falls, golden temple , meenakshi temple, harry potter castels to disneyland...u can just keep looking at the masterpieces.then theres a categoty where sum weirdest of things are used to construct marvellous wonders...things like teacups(maatir bhad), biscuits, chilli flakes, chinese lamps,soaps,pencils,blades...and the list is endless.

to me, kolkata seems no less than vegas!every building bathed in light,thanks to the para associations,and, if u get to see the hoogly river at night,with ferrys,boats and steamers laden with beautiful lights, the howrah bridge somewhere far..its like a picture perfect moment imprinted on your mind forever!one of the best thing about this is no matter who u are, young or old, upper class or"modhdhobritto" or even underpriviledged, the city of joy sure to give u loads with open arms:)everyone sits together for rituals and bhog and u never know,u could be sitting next to your neighbourhood rickshawaala or kajer mashi and eatin mayer bhog:)to think that the city with sum of the biggest areas in slum spends crores fr just a few days!

doshomi is something i never liked personally..it gives u the feeling of a hangover of happiness!for many, not exactly cause maa is returnin to shiva's abode ;)

wid the shouts of "asche bochchor abar hobe", a few would carry the beautiful idol to the river for bishorjon.for the first time when i saw it, i somehow couldnt control the tears.it was as if some neighbour u see everyday and share your growin up years with, leaves all of a sudden!

dadu would smile at me and we would sit on the banks and watch as one by one, everythin would go back to the place where it came from,jus in few months from now, the artist would again dig up for a new protima,jus few months from now, the doors will be knocked again just when u had settled in for a nap after lunch for "chanda".and then the malls and local shops would be strewn with "sale" banners and people would take a day off for pujor bajaar:)and i would again look for an excuse and make my parents get reservations for kolkata!

the class is over and i am more than just nostalgic...i guess ill look up in some site to find out whether bangalore has pujo associations.when i do, m more than happy to know that there are some 30 odd places where pujos are conducted.i go to the nearest one the same evenin.i can hear the dhak playin on some cd and robindroshongeet in the background...i try out a roshogolla in a stall..its sweetness seems to have faded:)

Once upon a time, son, they used to laugh with their hearts and laugh with their eyes: but now they only laugh with their teeth, while their ice-block-cold eyes search behind my shadow. There was a time indeed they used to shake hands with their hearts: but that’s gone, son. Now they shake hands without hearts: while their left hands search my empty pockets. ‘Feel at home’! ‘Come again’: they say, and when I come again and feel at home, once, twice, there will be no thrice – for then I find doors shut on me. So I have learned many things, son. I have learned to wear many faces like dresses – homeface, officeface, streetface, hostface, cocktailface, with all their conforming smiles like a fixed portrait smile. And I have learned too to laugh with only my teeth and shake hands without my heart. I have also learned to say, ‘Goodbye’, when I mean ‘Good-riddance’; to say ‘Glad to meet you’, without being glad; and to say ‘It’s been nice talking to you’, after being bored. But believe me, son. I want to be what I used to be when I was like you. I want to unlearn all these muting things. Most of all, I want to relearn how to laugh, for my laugh in the mirror shows only my teeth like a snake’s bare fangs! So show me, son, how to laugh; show me how I used to laugh and smile once upon a time when I was like you.

somehow i was just reminded of this poem today..call it an irony, i first came across this poem in my 7th grade...and it was a part of the literature curriculum..i guess at that age, it would be an exceptional case if someone really understood this beautiful composition..i cant say i hav ,fully, but yes..the "what a wonderful world" image which we hav in childhood sure gets dimmer as we "grow up"..do we really??i mean, growing up is supposed to make u mature n tht in turn shud make things simpler right??but i will surely not second the motion.there's a famous sayin in bengali that a bald man gonna stand under the beal(stona apple) tree only once in his life.guess being bald in a criteria though ;) coz yes , a person who has still not given up on being a child at heart, wil surely know what i mean!jus like poet okara, who says about the "masks", superficiality seems to beprevalent like a disease rather , like a trait now in adulthood...i feel things can be sorted better if kept simple ..but yah ...to each his own! :)