As a child I would get fascinated with the chilling hours of mahalaya, when all the family
members had to wake up to the early hours of the day to listen up the magical voice of Bi-
rendra Kishore invoking ‘devi durga and her agamani on All India Radio. That thrilling voice
still reverberates in my ears. After a month long awaiting, the mood sets in to celebrate the
most auspicious 5 days: shashti, saptami, ashtami, navami, and dashami. It always captivates
my imagination to see the idol making process-from collecting clays from the banks of river,
draping the idol with sari and festooned it up with ornamentation and then slowly giving it
a life. More so, the rites and rituals surrounding chakkhu daan enthralled my imagination
and spirit.
For all day long, I would land loping aimlessly around the vicinity with my little gang to dis-
cover what gifts Laltu (childhood friend) got for wearing in puja, or what game gun and glit-
tering balls Lily’s (childhood friend) father gifted her for playing. Meanwhile the emotions
ran high anticipating what my baba’ and maa' would stowed for me this time. And then the
euphoria that followed after discovering the most awaited prized stuff was always inexplica-
ble.
For my little gang and me, nothing more could dazzled our imagination than to explore the
mystical nights started with pandal hopping, tasting the food fiestas and late night gossip
sessions on shashti and shaptami. As I would decked up myself with glittering bangles, ear-
rings, glitzy tops and lehenga, the first alluring adventurous part was to discover colourful
‘pandals’ at night. The pandals were infused with breath-taking creativity and artistic details
that would make it more entrancing with its customary thematic accomplishments. The
mouthful of ‘paani puri, jalebi, roshogolla, sandesh, jhaal mudi—was all that our heart would
crave for those days. What more amusing was to wake up to the early hours of ashtami and
navami to offer ‘anjali’ to ‘maa durga’ and devoured the delicious ‘bhog’ that followed after.
Thousands of worshippers were gathering around various pandals, some dancing on the
beatings of dhakis and their dunucchir naach with torch lit with a fragrant dhun--all sur-
rounded me with a mystical aroma. The rhythmic beatings that gradually tuned up to higher
crescendo left me with immense joy, love and ecstasy. All fanfare and amusement then
slowly culminate into the last day of ‘dashami’ when all the hullaballoo would start receding
into a melancholic epitome of existence. Although it’s a day of retreat, a day of departure for
maa durga, but for me, that momentary separation, would always made it hopeful of an-
other homecoming, another reunion with friends and family, another get-together with
closed ones separated across oceans next year again.