The early morning Azure sky on the ‘City of Nizams’ is filled with the festive spirit. Today as I sit down with a cup of coffee and my laptop, I can hear the sound of drum beats as people celebrate Ganesh Chaturthi here. The generally silent and disciplined neighborhood around my apartment is in a festive frenzy, children screaming in joy, prayer bells ringing and the scent of the incense all around .There are celebrations overnight. The drum beats seems like Dhak to my ears and dawns a sudden realization in me, Durga Puja , the greatest festival of the Bengalis is fast approaching.
The changing colour of the autumn sun in the far away skyline is touching my chord of nostalgia, I am reminded of my ancestral home in South Kolkata, the smell of Sheuli in the backyard of my house, the Gariahat road bustling with crazy shoppers and friends, cousins and family basking in merriment. The taste of luchi, Alur dum, Khichuri Bhog and Payesh seem to tingle my taste buds .Durga Puja or Pujo as we coin it is one thing that unites Bengalis all over the world. No matter where one is located, the feeling of ‘Maa Ashchen’ invariably transports us to our homeland -Bengal. I realize something is surely missing here!
Durga Puja outside Bengal has a different flavour all together. There is no Kumortuli here, no New Market and no Para Club culture. Puja here represents the imbibed way of life and diverse social mores of the Probashi Bengali. The Durga Puja here reflects the pride and assertion of the upcoming upwardly mobile, affluent and ambitious bengalis residing in posh colonies. There is a huge display of wealth in the name of Durga Puja, branded sponsors make the Puja a Glitterati affair. Prominent showbiz personalities make their presence on the Pandals . The pujo rituals performed are ostentatious and less ethnic in nature.
I am feeling this change. In my childhood years Pujo marked the home-coming and gathering for one and all in the family. No matter where in the world, Bengalis traveled back to their motherland just as the Goddess traveled with her family to her earthly abode to bless us. Today we are nucleated in different places. I am not going home this Pujo.
The monsoon clouds have waved good- bye, paving the way for the blue sky and a nip in the autumn air. The early dawn sheds dew drops on the innumerable Kaashphool besides the river banks back home……I finish my coffee and realize that I need to warm up for a busy day . I take my shower, rummage through the cloth stack to wear something, grab a bite of toast and head for the office bus.
But the nostalgia still overpowers my thoughts; I prepare myself for a new beginning. I look forward to embrace life in this new turf, celebrate Pujo in the same spirit with my new-found Bengali and non Bengali friends here. For me Pujo 2011 will be a search for tradition in modernity and a fond remembrance of the days gone by.
About the Author-
Srirupa Ganguly is Editor in Capegemini India. She lives in Hyderabad and is in perennial love with writing. Having a distinct style of her own and wide experience in writing for quite a period of time, she is known for her insightful view on events.
Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and they do not reflect in any way those of the Dispassionate Observer.
