Durga Puja

The first thing that comes to mind is Bose Aunty's white cotton sari with a bright red border. Then the drums playing incessantly and the sweet intoxicating smell of incense wafting through the whole street.

For me, the Navratri are the sweetest memories of childhood, of a place where everyone was family. There was no other festival which emphasized this togetherness more.

As a rainy August gave way to a sometimes-warm-sometimes-cool September, the wait began. With rising enthusiasm I'd notice the men assemble stalls in the Auditorium grounds. Slowly the Pujo Pandal would take shape,beautifully coloured in bright red, yellow, orange. The gates and passages were adorned with shimmery tassles in gold and magenta and green. Overnight then, the statue of the deity would be installed and the next morning I'd wake up to the sound of the ladies shouting "lolololololo" or something like that! Her large kohl-rimmed eyes and the indulgent smile managed to floor me each year! And of course there were her companions too - the tiger, and poor Mahishasur !

For each night during the Pooja, my mother made me wear a new outfit and I was more than happy to show it off. But much more exciting was going to the Pandal with friends (read Aradhika Didi, Munmun Didi, Nikku Didi, Appu). The whole township could be found there each night. We'd go from one stall to the next, eating our way through the mouth-watering treats on offer - gol gappas, chhole bhature, aloo tikki, dosa sambhar, dahi bade etc. etc. You name it, they had it! What added to the fun was the fact that the sellers of these goodies were our neighbourhood aunties or our respected school teachers! It was also a place to catch the latest township gossip, which we promptly did.

The festivities spread over eight wonderful days and nights culminated with the king of Lanka being burnt to bits at our beloved Ramleela Ground with everyone gathered there clapping with glee!

As I go back in time and think of years and years of Navratri and Dussehra spent this way, I can almost smell those autumn nights. Our small world is definitely no match for the big, bold, dynamic Pujo Pandals of CR Park, or Kali Bari, or Paschim Vihar. But the feeling of love, of warmth, of camaraderie, of oneness can never be replicated here. We were a family there and we remain so even now when most of us are in different cities, some even in other countries,united by the memory of our Durga Pooja.

Happy Durga Puja to the Renusagar Parivar, and to all my other friends