Pujo! Pujo! Pujo!

The very utterance of that word beats drums in my ears. I started writing with the objective of explaining how I’ve been feeling since yesterday. But I’m not really sure if I can drive home the point.

The morning of Mahalaya brought with it a strange warmth coupled with the familiar experience of joy and expectations…the time had come to welcome Maa Durga to our hearts. The whiff of the morning breeze that hit my nose when I went out to the balcony suddenly told me that the day had come. Of course there is no smell of ‘shiuli’ in Bangalore or the sight of the swaying ‘kaash ful’. Even the clouds are different. And surely nowhere close is the breathtaking sound of the conch shells blown in unison by the women when the idol of Durga is brought to the neighborhood. Yet the morning told me that it undoubtedly was Mahalaya.

Mahalaya of our childhood is clearly sketched in my mind, waking up at four in the morning and listening to the ‘Chandi Paath’ and the ‘agomoni’ (welcome) songs on radio. Even today the sound of Birendra Krishna Bhadra’s voice gives me goosebumps. Much later, when we were privileged with the television in our drawing rooms, did we get to see the Mahalaya acted out with the usual background scores. Of course it was always a holiday and sometimes we even wore new clothes on this day to feel the festive mood.

Thanks to technology, we can listen to Mahalaya any time and every time on You tube or any other music site. But the innocence of listening to it drowsily at four in the morning was an experience by itself. It’s a pity that our children, staying away from Bengal, will never get the feel of it. Again due to technology, I could sit at my workplace in Bangalore and get a slice of Mahalaya in Kolkata. The early morning update on Facebook from a neighbor’s son in Kolkata was that they were going to bring the idol. As a tradition, the idol is always brought to the neighborhood (where the Sarvajanin puja is held) on the day of Mahalaya every year. By then the ‘pandal’ or the ‘mantap’ is already set. So quite naturally, the update on FB brought back loads of memories of bygone days. Then FB was flooded with wishes and updates from Bengali friends all over the world. There were videos too of the ‘dhaak’ (drum) being played and the decorated idols of the Devi. That was enough to make me float all day long.

Durga Puja is like an irrevocable experience of the true meaning of festival. A time of fun and frolic, the smell of new clothes, the illuminated streets, the chants of the mantras, the beats of the drums, food, music and friends. A time when Kolkata forgets to sleep. There are millions and millions of people in the streets all night for all the five days of the puja. People dressed in their best, sometimes limping due to the fresh blisters from new shoes, walking for miles together to get a glimpse of the idols and the pandals all over the city. For some love birds, this is the only time when even parents lift all curfews and young boys and girls uninhibitedly walk about hand in hand. The cultural programs that are organised by some groups, the competition to win the Asian Paints Award for the best pandal or idol, the incessant chattering of decked up Bong ‘aunties’, the ‘aarti’, the ‘dhunuchi naach’ – there is no end to the flavors. I think, by far, the craziest and the warmest of all festivals where every soul is involved from every walk of life.

I am going to my beloved Kolkata this year after three long years. Hence, my excitement! I wish I could take all my friends from Bangalore to Kolkata just to give them a hint of the real flavor. Wishing all my well wishers a very happy Durga Puja.