Pujo Diaries/1

Shubho Bijoya to all. This year pujo started for me from Saptami only, which alone can prove my dwindling enthusiasm about pujo over past few years. I am getting old I guess. Or perhaps my priorities have shifted. Weird things priorities are – sneakily changing positions without one realising it. Before you know it, you are standing in the middle of the room full of people, sweating and secretly hoping for the pujo to end as quickly as possible so you can go back to your regular, lacklustre life where nobody would pay you much attention. People like us like that very much, the quiet corner far away from the limelight. We are scared of the light, we know the moment the blinding patch of light would fall upon us, and everything would be exposed, that how unfulfilling our life is. We have nothing to boast about to our family, friends and acquaintances. The fact that we so carefully keep hidden for the rest of the year, behind our ‘cool’ social media posts.
I spent most of the time this year suffering from the hangover of my trip and hiding insecurity behind nervous laughter. It seems almost unbelievable that there was a time I used to pray to Ma Durga to extend the festival for few more days. Wishes do come true sometimes, but by that time we change so much that they become useless to us. I finally understand why there is always that hint of a slightly detached smirk on every god’s face.

On Saptami my mother finally dragged me out of the house for some pandal-hopping. She is not too fond of walking a lot so we only stuck to the pandals within our vicinity. After about an hour of roaming about we came back home licking chocolate ice-cream and telling each other how good our decision of not eating phuchka had been. I barely share such uninterrupted (by quarrel), good moments with my mother so it was almost like winning lottery for me. Not to mention she agreed to click my pictures which, surprisingly, came out pretty well.







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