A piece of lost days

This year is the fifth one. Several thousands of miles away from home, each year, around this time, John Denver sings inside my mind:

Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong........

Goddess Durga will appear on Earth again within a couple of days, and the entire Bengalee community around the globe will celebrate Her arrival for the next one week, forgetting all sorrows and woes life has to offer them aplenty.

Memory is a very tricky substance- although I don't know whether it can be called a substance in the first place. But the thing is, when I try to recall something, at times memory betrays me, and at times, it floods my mind with so much incidents that it becomes difficult for me to think and organize the thoughts properly.

For me, the four days of Durga Puja were ordered in four different ways. Saptami was reserved for the family.....throughout the daytime, it was chatting and gossipping with cousins and relatives, and in the evening, it was time to get along in a group of about 20 people and walk through the lights and charms of the city. The duration of the trip used to be short, or at least it decreased as the years passed by, because my parents, uncles and aunts were getting older. But it was a very pleasant experience, and each year, Saptami was just one of the days which taught me how family should be, and what it means to be a part of a happy family, where every member cared for everybody.

Asthami used to start by offering Pushpanjali to the Goddess from the local pandal. Although initially reluctant to go (because it was an early morning affair), I gradually got interested in it, mainly because as I got older, my interest shifted towards the live Goddesses from the deity. After murmering the hymns, throwing flowers towards them was really a pleasure, and the fact is, to me, a Bengalee girl looks best in a saree rather than any other outfits. So, since my adolescence, I used to look forward towards the Asthami morning.

Going out with friends was quite enjoyable during the pujas, which I did mostly on the Nabami, and during the puja time, the upper limit of coming back home at night was relaxed to a good extent, thereby providing me ample chance to enjoy outside.

The Sharodiya numbers were another source of attraction. Even 6-7 years before, the Sharodiyas were released just before the festive season, unlike they do nowadays.....about 3 months before the puja. Leafing through the new pages of the book, and smelling the scent of it was a heavenly feeling, at least for me. When I was much younger, I was not allowed to read Desh, because it was supposed to be boroder boi! But that could not stop me from reading those anyway, and as it happens, the more you forbid, the more irrestible the desire is to break the rules.

Kolkata used to change overnight on these four days. I still remember eating Biriyani from a roadside stall at around 3 AM! Long queues in front of the Egg-roll centers, where the preparation was so fast that the parathas were half-cooked, but for us, nothing mattered. Everything was consumed at rapid speed and indomitable enthusiasm.

Life changes, and now I can understand what I used to have then which I do not have now. It is true that as long as you are not away from home, you do not get the feeling what home really is. Sometimes it is good to be dependent, or at least to be under certain rules. Breaking rules is much more exciting than having a free will to do whatever we want.

I know not when I will be able to enjoy the Durga puja again from home. It seems its being a lifetime since I had last entered inside a Mandap. But it is always good to cherish sweet memories, because this is what keeps us moving against all odds.