The unsung heroes of Durga Puja

The most famous festival of Bengalis Durga Puja is here. The smell of Shiuli flowers is  wafting through air. Markets  are abuzz with last minute shoppers.Every para is giving finishing touches to the pandals.Everybody is planning their puja itinerary. Those who have moved out of Kolkata due to job, education purpose have arrived to be   a part of this grand carnival. Children are keeping count of their dresses to ensure that they have not been out done by their cousins or friends.

Amidst all this humdrum, have we ever heed  to them, who have to leave behind their family to make this puja  so successful.People from all across the globe come to Kolkata to get drenched in this festive fervor.All the intricate works on the pandal that leave  everyone spellbound have been crafted by these people.Months after months they toil hard to make their assigned pandals  the most beautiful one in the city.While pandal hopping, we treat our eyes on these beautiful works of art and utter the words "ki shundor" (how beautiful) but the thought of these people hardly cross our mind.We like to dance to the beats of dhaakis but hardly pay attention to these dhaakis who keep beating their dhaaks from morning till everyone gets tired of dancing.

Their children might wait for them like every year I wait with bated breath for my father to return home, so that we can have gala time.I don't know if it is  due to sense of maturity or what. This year they have caught my attention. While  we try to appease Maa Durga  by offering her sweets  and worshiping her throughout  five days, these people put their nose to grindstone to appease our aesthetic sense. In their own way, they try to win over Maa Durga. It is  said " work is  worship" . They worship through  their work. They offer their labour, sweat. They endure everything to give their best. We may say that they are being paid fr their work, so whats  a  big deal. To this, I have an  irrefragable answer which sound cliche "money can't buy you everything" and of course not the hard work which goes into making this festival   a grand success.

Next comes our police department. We often hold them responsible whenever anything illegal happens. To monitor the situation during Durga Puja  and  ensure that this carnival go off smoothly, they keep round the clock check on every puja pandal. Their family also want to apend time with them, but they are  sacrificing their celebration so that we can celebrate without a  hitch.

They are all the unsung heroes of Durga Puja, who derive pleasure by seeing smiling faces and joy of pandal hoppers. Our praise is the biggest award for them. I  conclude with the hope  that this year when you go to admire any pandal  you'll spare some thoughts on these unsung heroes.When dhakki arrives at your door step before leaving for his home, you'll be generous in giving him gifts.

Happy Durga Puja :)

Utopia

Monsoon clouds have overcast the sky. Every  creation of nature is getting enveloped in darkness. Reema sitting by the  window is lost in her own thoughts. She is reminiscing about her good old days. Her pining for her past is her escape from the present realities. Her father was colonel in an army. After his retirement, they decided to move to their home town which is located at some small village in West Bengal. Having grown up in a  cosmopolitan culture of Dehradun, her present situation is diametrically opposite of her past situation. How  she  wishes she could move the clock back in time.

Outside, it is raining heavily. Rainwater is lashing against the window. Reema wants to cry her heart out. Her eyes are already misted with tears, she is feeling helpless. Suddenly her phone rings, she looks for it in the muddle of papers. It is  a call from an unknown number. Reema picks up the phone.

Stranger : Hello, is Debika  at home?
Reema : No, wrong number.
Stranger : ohh, if you don't mind, can i say something?
Reema: sure.
Stranger : You have got nice voice, bye....

Reema doesn't react to this. Even she feels some  warmth in that stranger's voice. It  is  so soothing.

It is dinner time and her mother is calling her for dinner. She hates the idea of having dinner with the members of her joint family. For they always lecture her about how to be  a bengali 'bhalo meye'. This makes her ponder over her own character. Can her upbringing be so wrong.

Next day she again receives call from the same unknown number.

Stranger : hello
Reema : hello
Stranger : so, today its not wrong number.
Reema smiled.

They spoke for many hours. Reema completely oblivious of her surrounding and her fantasy, drowns herself in that conversation. After the conversation she feels better, still can't free herself from the clutches of past. She keeps romancing about memories related to her school, college and her home in Dehradun. How she  used to stand on her balcony and  admire snow capped mountains for hours.

Monsson has past and its autumn time now. Trees have started shedding leaves and Reema keeps getting call from stranger. Air is filled with the fragrance of Shiuli flower. The sight of Kaash flowers swaying in air offers treat to eyes. Reema resolves that the time has  arrived when she should let go of her past and move on in life. But how  and why. Why she  should? Its  an utopia for her , she finds solace in her long talk with stranger. Reality is very cruel, it always upsets her.

 Beats of Dhaak resonates in air, summoning up  the memories of Dehradun, how her family over there used to organise puja in their locality. The phone suddenly intrudes into her reverie. this time around she thinks of asking his name. They have been talking for long but never bother to know each other's name. On being asked about his name, he says 'when the right time arrives, you will get to know everything about me. As of now, content yourself with the fact that I am one of your well wishers.

Durga puja has past, Maa Durga has returned to her home. Reema too wants to embark on a new journey. She doesn,t want to let all her fantasies take hold of her life. She could see her bleak future. The line between reality and fantasy has already started getting blurred for her. In her fantasy world she is Reema of completely different nature. She is what she cannot be in her real life.

Mother earth is getting ready for her sleep. There is nip in air. Reema sipping her ginger tea is taking stroll on terrace. She is speaking to her stranger friend. She has never met him yet she feels  so close to him. Despite  all these she can't keep herself steady. Something is bothering her. Her head grows heavy and she is feeling restless day by day. Has she become schizophrenic? she doesn't know. But then one question rings in her mind 'what is reality' ? Is it what we see or is it what keeps us happy and content.

It has been many days since she received call from her stranger friend. She decides to make call herself this time around. but there was noone to take her call at the other end. It went unanswered. Nature is deep in her sleep recuperating from weariness. Reema feels dejected, shattered once again she has been hurt by someone she got attached to. While all these things preying on her mind, she hears her  youngest cousin Chottu  is rushing to her room. He is holding a  piece of paper, he shows his drawing to Reema. He has drawn a family picture. Family, which he lost in a car accident. He speaks  so fondly of it, but he has accepted the mishap. He didn't let the tragedy take toll of his life. He is living with the members of his extended family, revering  them, making merry in their happy moments. Despite being a  child he can take situation in his own stride. He  loves Reema  and always asks her to play with him. Whenever he finds the door of Reema's room open he sneaks in to meet his 'mitti di' thats what he calls Reema. Reema's eyes stays fix on chhotu and realisation dawns on her that nobody's life is perfect. everybody has built some ideal world  in order to stay focussed and happy. Everyday we strive to achieve that world and may be the quest for that  world is what keeps us going. Our ideal world offers substitute for the real world. These worlds can go parallel but can never merge. Little chhotu has ideal world too in which he has sweet little family which is missing in his real life. Reema longing for Dehradun and her emotional attachment to her stranger friend is just part of her perfect world which she needs to achieve. She makes up her mind  not to sulk and moves ahead. While stepping out of her room, her phone rings  again, it is the same unknown number which is not unknown anymore. This time  she didn't answer the call and put the number on block list. She has come to terms with the fact that is she wants her utopia, she needs to work towards it.