Aagomonir aamej...

আজকে মহালয়া। ...

Courtesy: The internet

Despite trying my best to concentrate on my towering to-do lists and looming deadlines... my mind wanders... bits and pieces of various childhood memories come fleeting in and disappear... only to be replaced by others...

The very eagerly awaited festival would begin with Mahalaya, when my parents would turn on the radio at dawn and I lay in bed drifting in and out of sleep, yet soaking in the shlokas and the music. Even though I understood very little until much later, somehow that early morning music always had an enchanting effect... filled my mind with endless wonder and anticipation...

Within 4-5 days time following this, would be the excitement of visiting as many reputed Pujos as possible in the vicinity of our home... relishing the dhaak beats and the heavy scent of incense to the fullest ... albeit feeling a bit grumpy about the fact that I would soon leave Calcutta (at her gorgeous and pulsating best) and go away to sleepy-small town Kharagpur to spend the most eventful days of the festival...

But all such feelings would dissolve away quickly as our car (or the train, on some years) moved into the countryside and we breathed in the refreshing air and saw the lines of kaash waving their bushy heads in glee...

Once at the family home at Kharagpur, it would be five days of endless fun and relaxation, which would pass us by even before we realized it... Food, food, and more food... a heady mix of various traditional items and of everyone's favorite stuff... my grandmother, aunt and mother toiled long hours to satisfy everyone's demands... I especially can't help remembering how my grandmother, much active then even though not in great health always, took the greatest pleasure in coming up with the most elaborate and often exotic dishes....

Then there would be the much awaited Pushpanjali and the Khichudi bhog... endless crazy games that my two brothers and me innovated... hours of watching TV together and playing musical chairs with the pujabarshikis (and later coming up with the most enjoyable reading sessions to reduce the demand!)... I would often string garlands with flowers dropped from my grandmother's shiuli tree...

Come evening, we would be praying for clear skies so that we could visit the various Pujo mandaps... a family tradition that we all engaged in together, walking pretty long distances... accompanied by assorted helpings of street food delights!

Dashami brought in a rather sad air but we made up for it by our little Bijaya ritual which we followed religiously every year, once the neighbourhood idol started her return journey (and I took much pleasure in forcing my minutely younger brother to touch my feet and seek blessings!).

            I know it's quite impossible that there will ever be such a gathering again... the family has scattered to different places in search of building our lives... even the family home isn't ours anymore. It's been many years since we have been able to follow this tradition... our schedules on most years do not match or allow it....

The celebration of Durga Pujo for me has now (in Bangalore for 8 years now, though  a couple of years I managed to pack in a quick Bengal or Pune trip) got reduced to regular workdays that are ended only by dressing up and visiting a few mandaps if possible, where the primary highlight is often just the traditional snacks and food. Sometimes, especially in an extremely busy year such as the current one, there is almost no planning and preparation for those days. Yet today, I somehow cannot escape the feeling that the milestone event of each year for any Bengali.. Pujo... is here and no matter how busy, occupied and stressed... my mind will wander...and celebrate!