As the Indian month of "aashinn"comes in,leaving three to four months in its trail with Indian festivals of Rakhi, Janmashtami,Nag Panchami Ganesh pujas one after the other, but as the this month ushers itself, it brings to mind the first glimmer of dew drops on the green morning grass, the sweet scent of fresh flowers of the season in bloom, the light shimmering fog in the early hours of dawn and with it comes the memory of the excitement and the thrilling anticipation of Durga Puja, Dashera, the crowning festival of the year.
Childhood in Allahabad, during Durga Puja, was for me the only time of the year with unbounded thrill, a throbbing quiver of elation which seemed to surpass all other thrills of the festivals of the year. The whole festival is a 5-day celebration, and its preparations would start three to four months ahead. Apart from the serious and heavy task of the organisers, we children had our own share of involvement in the preparations. We, under the guidance of a collective group of elders would be chosen to enact plays, dances or solo recitals for the 5 day celebrations of puja. The rehearsals for these items would gear us up for the puja days. Our home-works, school tasks all got a push as if of sudden energy to get over so that we could be in time for our evening rehearsals at each other's house with snacks and laughter....it was sheer fun. Apart from this, this was the time of the year when bazaars and markets and tailor shops would be over crowded as days drew near. My mother and myself would spend hurried hours planning out our dresses for the 5 days, would lavishly ask the tailor to station himself at our place only, so that he would stitch under our supervision and we could try out our new dresses, in between our hectic run to school and rehearsals every day.
Grandmother would get busy in arranging for the white wash and painting of the house, draperies would be got down for the yearly dry cleaning, garden would be pruned and trimmed...the pantry and meat safes would be made full of the best of edibles and sweet meats for the whole month...all in the all, all seemed to be turned inside out to get a completely new and fresh look. The air all round seemed to buzz with excitement and thrill, all bubbling with the excitement of puja drawing near. The puja venue for our colony then was the 8 number block of Tagore Town, now having the sprawling house of Mr. Murli Manohar Joshi. The area then had a spacious central open area where the puja and cultural programmes were very well organised.The 5-day celebration seemed to be a family rejoicing. All the colony members, from elders to youngsters, grandmothers, aunts and us, we all had our own share of helping out in any way we could.We youngsters, from early morning would go from house to house collecting flowers to make garlands for the goddess..the young winter of the early hours seemed to pump us with unabated energy as we rushed with flower baskets in hand from house to house trying to pluck the best for the garlands.We would sit together to cut fruits for "proshad" in "donas", a very friendly family atmosphere it all was , talking laughing discussing our programmes for the evening, coming home hurriedly to change into another new dress for the evening, and the returning home late after our cultural items were over. One day would be scheduled for going round the city to see all other puja venues with their "pratimas",George Town, Jagat Taran school, Colonelgunj, Railway Puja, Daragunj Puja, South Malaka puja in the famed Sangeet Samiti Hall and many more....enjoying the "bhog proshad" of every place.
The immersion of so many idols was also a stupendous and grand marathon in the golden twilight of the dusk. amidst loud "dhaak" and "dhol" dinning the ear.We would return home with hearts heavy, and fatigue sapping us up after months of so much waiting and finally the fulfilment in the last 5 days of non stop rejoicing and entertainments. The five days seemed to pass of without giving us time to breathe or relax, yet till today I count those 5 days as the best enjoyed days of childhood.
Puja preparations have now changed a lot...like everything around, Durga Puja too has taken a hi-tech concept....no longer is it a family involvement..it is sponsored by big parties, who see into the collecting of flowers, making garlands, distributing the proshad so much so that cultural programes, too are mostly under sponsors...may be it is much much better than our simple naive rejoicings years back but Puja then had a touch of homeliness and feeling of one-ness with each other, which as now seems more of a competition and a means of earning money.
I am now in Toronto, Canada. It is again the month of "aashinn" but they here call it the Fall Season. Puja is drawing near, my calendar says, the weather is slowly taking on the same chill it took years back in Allahabad where colourful seasonal flowers started blooming as a welcome for the coming festival. I am hearing there will be Durga Puja here too in 3 or 4 different places,they do it beautifully here too, our Indians who are out of home, put in their best efforts to make the whole festival as grand as it was at home for them in India, and while standing at the puja venue one feels close to Ma Durga again in this far off foreign land. What we learnt at home is very well brought out in the efforts of all bengalis here, it feels a home away from home when in the puja hall..no longer a "pandal" or "shamiana" as it was in homeland, still the settings and surroundings give it the puja atmosphere that makes the festival grand.Our present day youngsters are happy too in the celebrations though they know not what it was in the land of their forefathers and grandparents, and just because they are happy we too remain happy seeing them. Flowers are blooming here too,gardens and roadsides look beautiful with a bounty of colours , the sunlight is as bright and warm,yet the soothing silence all round is as if dinning the ears, ears that are craving to hear the humming buzz of thrill and rejoicings all around years back and far off in my home town Allahabad....perhaps that is what is called the hypnotism of youth that comes and goes leaving wonderful happy memories to cherish on.