Pujo through the eyes of a non Bengali!!

As the year draws closer to an end, it is pertinent that I bring another perspective about Durga Puja to my fellow Bengali friends!!

For me autumn every year will always be synonymous with Pujo!  Growing up in Ranchi, the non-decrepit Industrial town of Jharkhand, also a hotbed of the probasi Bengalis’, we could not but just love the fervor and excitement that gripped the residents of Ranchi for a month each year during Durga Pujo..

For people who have not been to Eastern India, it is difficult for them to associate with the grandiose pujo celebrations across the length and breadth of Bengal, Bihar, Orissa and Assam. Anybody who has seen the Lord Jagannath Yatra in Puri, Chaath Puja in Bihar, will testify that religious festivals in the east are often characterized by popular participation, hysteria, and mass celebrations and are most importantly inclusive in nature strengthening the secular fabric of the society and building bridges across the different communities.

For us the Pujo is the bridge between the Bengali and the Non-Bengalis’ as it showcases the infinitely rich and vibrant culture of Bengal and how inclusive the entire celebration is when people from all sections of the society are welcomed with love and affection. In a pujo pandal, there is no religion, caste, ethnicity, and regionalism, it is one grand courtyard, where devotees of all faith congregate and thank ma Durga for bestowing innumerable bounties to us and also seek her blessings for a fruitful and meaningful life.

Even as a kid, I could not but admire the Pujo as it symbolized the vibrancy and richness of the Bengali culture and cuisine. Everything from the language, the attire, the Thakurma Jhuli (our response to Chaucer’s “The Canterbury Tales”), and its famed rich cuisine aroused great admiration and triggered a certain amount of envy (Neighbors envy owner pride!!). To me Pujo was Bengal and Bengal was Pujo!!

For us the small ones, Pujo meant holiday from studies and ten days of unrestrained fun. It meant visiting the exquisitely decorated pujo pandals, wherein the organizers, The pandal parishad, vied to outdo each other by being more creative and innovative. The center of the attraction is of course the beautiful idols of ma durga, made by famous artistes imported from neighboring Bengal, adding to its luster and pedigree!!

The pandal premise presents a kaleidoscope of cultural activity with teeming masses thronging the enclosure with great gusto and fervor.  As you move into the premise, several stalls lined up along the perimeter of the pandal are selling popular electronic products and hordes of enthusiastic vendors  are selling the finest ethnic traditional Bengali fabric such as Daccai Jamdani silk saris, the crisply starched printed cotton and the elegant silk kurtas, and various utility articles. Before you could lift your eyes a waft of aroma invades your senses and makes you go weak on your stomach!

And then magic unfolds in front of your eyes!! The fabulous stalls are selling a variety full of mouthwatering delicacies and patrons are seen gobbling with glee and glutton the Chinese, Indian, and traditional Bengali dishes such as puchka, mughlai parontha, Luchi aloo dum, Calcutta biryani, a unique concoction of Kolkata markedly different in taste, aroma, and appearance compared to its Hyderabadi, Awadhi, and Malabar cousins.

There is no greater joy in life than to gorge on the famed Bengali desserts.  The crowd is simply unstoppable and is tearing into a variety of desserts at display, not to mention the sentimental favorite the mouth watering rosogolla (Pronounced with the typical Bengali “ssh”!), the irresistible misti doi, the sumptuous milk Kalakand, the succulent cream chops, and before I and you start salivating, I must stop listing out the fare!!

The eateries do brisk business and laugh all the way to the bank. Nobody complains though!

Another striking feature of the pandals is the galaxy of beautiful Bengali mai (Girls) decked up in traditional Bengali cotton and silk saris talking animatedly with their friends. The jewelry is minimal and barely visible, but the style and the grace are apparent.  Their appearance is sweet as is the Bengali misthi. The babu moshai’s are seen flaunting the very best, the inimitable and traditional silk and cotton kurta’s. The kaku’s attired in crisply starched cotton kurta’s present a handsome spectacle. The kaki’s ooze class and grace with their sartorial style and would put to shame even the most elegantly dressed young women!! The children go completely unrestrained and are mostly seen running towards the food and toy stalls

Somebody shouts, “aee.. rontu ek tu jaul niye aaoo” a rather shrill shriek, and not to be left behind, the lady in the red across the pandal shouts at her husband who looked back  rather puzzled and wore an expression, “ what the fuss is all about.” However, the retreat was fast and swift as the husband literally ran across the pandal to oblige the women with a bowl of pista kulfi. Apparently, she had asked for some kulfi, but he was lurking near the stall eating some chops clandestinely!

 A rather meek and emaciated dog managed to slip into the pandal through a slit in one corner ostensibly to grab a few bones scattered near the food stalls. You can’t blame them for not being able to resist the aroma of the delightful food on offer and the poor chap is asking only for the bone and if his luck is good might end up having a feast! A couple of pot bellied volunteers tried to shoo away the little one before I stepped in to let the poor animal have his bone.

The pujo fervor reaches its peak during the Ashtami and Navmi celebrations, where the devotees throng the Pandals to get a glimpse of Ma Durga and seek her blessings for a prosperous life. You can see serpentine queues outside most of the pandals. Inside the Pandal, the devotees are greeted to the reverberating beat of the Dhaakis and the captivating rhythm of the traditional Dhunuchi dance. The Dhunuchi is an earthen pot ware filled with dry coconut fiber which is lit and emanates camphored smoke. The frenzied dancer holds the dhunuchi in his hands and sways vigorously back & forth and sideways accompanied by the beats of the Dhak. (Drum). The dance form is extremely popular in Bengal and often there are competitions in place for the best Dhunuchi dancer award.

Another enchanting experience is the Sandhi Puja, where 108 earthen lamps are illuminated and kept on dais in front of the idol of Ma Durga. The radiance of the light mesmerizes the devotees and seems like a dream sequence you usually come across in the Bollywood movies.

Any Pujo follower worth his/her salt would never miss the community gathering for the bhog (offered to Ma Durga). As a kid, I used to stand in long queue’s to savor the Khichudi and that is the most divine Khichudi I ever had!! How life has come full circle, when last year, my daughter in my lap, tasted her first bhog! All the memories came rushing back.

The bhog is usually followed by a sumptuous lunch for the patrons. The lunch is simple yet leaves you licking your fingers and is divine in taste! The pujo evenings are action packed and essentially musical in nature. The singers, tabla players, dancers and comedians set the stage on fire with their action packed performances. Nowadays, bowing to popular demand, most of the pujo samiti invite numerous popular singing artistes, who play the popular filmi songs and usually the crowd reserves its loudest cheer for these shenanigans! But the discerning crowd waits for the traditional rendering of Bangla form of music & song (Rabindra Sangeet), which is probably the highlight of the evening in most of the pujo pandals.

On Vijay Dashmi, the married women offer sindoor to ma durga followed by a riot of Sindoor Khela, where women dressed in white and silk sari smear sindoor on each other faces and hair accompanied by blowing of the conch. Normally, this signals an end to ten days of joy filled festivities. For countless years, this is the time for us to bid good bye to Ma Durga with a prayer on our lips requesting her to come back next year.

These ten days symbolizes the pride and spirit of Bengaliyat (A term which signifies that Bengal is above ethnicity and is not region specific)…..

These ten days are a case study on how to celebrate with gaiety and joy and without rancor….

These ten days are the best days of our lives…..

O ma durga…! O ma durga! Keep showering your blessings on us!

The European Blitzkrieg - I

All travel is unarguably a learning experience and ours was no different. On March 27^th, 2012, my young family set afoot on our first journey abroad with our doll “Geney” and the better half “M”. The date will remain etched in our memories for ever for its sheer priceless value and significance. The trip was conceived to coincide with the first birthday of our princess and to form a lifelong attachment to the special event. Special events demand special journeys, and therefore, the colosseum* in Rome was pencilled in as the special destination to mark the occasion of our beloved’s first year with us. 

*The colosseum amphitheatre, the symbol of ancient Roman’s grandeur and might, the battleground of the countless gladitorial combats, provided an ideal backdrop for the occasion. Ofcourse being students of history, both M and me, made our choice easier. We could not have chosen a place which is more steeped in glorious history than the Colosseum. It was a grand theatre and a platform to proclaim to our daughter how precious she is to us and the extent to which we can go to make her happy and realize her dreams! The sheer size and scale of the colosseum inspires us the lesser mortals to greater deeds and dreams. During our first trip together within India to Oodaypoor, Geney learned about tradition, determination, valor, sacrifice, and independence from the glorious past of the Mewar Kingdom. At the colosseum in Rome, we believed for Geney to dream big and what it takes to achieve those dreams and never feel short on inspiration if ever.

 The three of us - On the way to the terminal

My mind flashes back to the day - we visualized this trip and the plan that we put in place. In a silent moment of retrospection, I remember the many questions and ponderables that haunted us giving us sleepless nights: Geney, so young and tender, would she cope up with the obvious exertions of a travel, what she would eat? Is it going to be too cold for her, and several other hazaar thoughts streamed in our minds. After a little but intense deliberation, we made up our minds to proceed with our European sojourn with a positive intent and prayer on our lips.

M planed the itinerary meticulously till the last details were filled in. We booked the air tickets and hotels six months in advance (smart travelers that we are!) to economize our cost. The passport and VISA were duly stamped three weeks prior to our departure. The leaves from our office were duly sanctioned well in the nick of time. But the entire process was not as seamless and smooth as it appears and like a hitchcockian thriller, as the D day approached, several twists and turns accompanied it. 

At one point of time, the prospect of a job change and early joining almost thwarted our well laid out plans. And to make matters worst, the troubles seemed to be far from over, as news poured in about the worsening economic crisis in Europe and a resultant simmering wave of anger and discontent speading across the entire European continent. The spectre of a Tahrir Square*

(*Tahrir Square revolution has come to symbolize the revolutionary intent and anger of the people of Egypt against its autocractic ruler Hosni Mobarak. This was just one of the many demonstrations to have swept across the Arab nations in the Middle East in the recent past) type of revolution hung high in Europe. Spain and Italy, two of our main destinations on the trip, were the worst affected and probably the most vulnerable amongst all EU members. The whole thing could turn into a nightmare if we are caught up in the imbroglio affecting these countries. To allay our fears, I got in touch with the Spanish & Italian embassies and earnestly checked for the travel advisory only to be informed that indeed, as M suspected, I was making a mountain out of a mole!

In my earnest defense, all I can say is that the reason for my schizophrenic reaction was because both Geney and M were accompanying and the risk factor multilplied manifold.  No less to blame was the role played by the TV channels who provided an endless and round the clock coverage of Tahrir Square demonstrations and to a lesser extent the newspaper reports which leave no stone unturned to paint an image of extreme violent upheaval and unrest in our unsuspecting minds! Ofcourse I wouldn’t pin the blame on my avid interest in witnessing and probably visualizing exciting regime changing political developments across the globe!!  The power of plebian revolution did however succeed in sowing seeds of suspicion in the minds of us the merry making travellers”!!

However, the cherry of the cake goes to one particular BBC dispatch which reported plans of a massive strike in Barcelona on March 30^th, 2012, the day we were to arrive in Spain!! This report did get my goat and emboldened me to present a mild petition (Golden Rule 1: you don’t protest to your wife but only submit petitions!) to M that after all I was right to think the way I did!  As expected I was snubbed and stubbed into submission and what typically happens in such situations is that the entire discussion dies its own death after a while.

Chastened by the experience, I returned with the zeal of a missionary and worked clockwise with the precision of a butcher/surgeon (take your pick!) and in no time we were back on track with our plans. We both sighed  and whispered to each other what we hear so often “everything is destined”, and it was our destiny to take this trip and to soak in its happiness with our little dotty. 

The entire plan was kept a well guarded surprise and within the confines of our home not to be shared with anyone until the appropriate moment.  But much as you want to surprise others, it always surprises you back by sneaking out and staring back at you! By January 2012, most of our friends got wind(but ofcourse M!) of our European holiday plan and the reactions ranged from the wild and enthusiatic WOWs, FANTASTIC, AWESOME  to the ususal sobering and probing questions, to list a few, did you book the entire trip on your own, have you taken  a package? How much is it costing you? How long will you be there? Etc…

 And for the few who were left out; the reactions ranged from  “tumne mujhe bataya nahi?” tum hume apna nahi samajhate ho?  hum naraaz hain!!  etc….Daunted by the prospect of facing a volley of such emotions, I duly informed the entire gang of people  who mattered to us,  not to appear selective in sharing our plans!! (Golden Rule 2: you can never appear to be fair with everybody however hard you might try to do so!)

On the D day, the nature seemed to have reserved its best for us and presented to us the most beautiful sight to behold. All three of us woke up to a glorious sunny day and as we lay on the bed, the glistening golden rays of the sun played truant with us through the small openings between the curtains. The rising sun, still in its infancy much like our little doll, was a sight to behold as it emitted energy and shone resplendently in its cosmic beauty.

The fun had just begun as the time to leave for the airport came nearer. For the next 15 days, there was no one standing between us and the joys of a holiday or so we thought.  M’s BP shot up as the taxi we had booked didn’t turn up on time. I too got a tad anxious and whispered “hope we don’t miss our flight”. On hearing this, M lost her cool and blurted out “this is what you want and your words will come true as you never say the right thing!” I replied tongue in cheek “What an auspicious start”!!

As I sat down on the couch, strapping my wristwatch and puting on my shoes, a stream of thoughts came rushing to my mind. I couldn’t hear a word of what M directed about keys, suitcases, diaper bags… and couldn’t see a thing with a blur infront of my eyes. My generally languid style gave way to a pensive brood and soon a stupor.  I turned towards Geney for succor, frolicking playfully in M’s lap, and looked into her eyes as if to seek reaffirmation of the purpose of the visit. The moment her eyes met mine, the last of the lingering doubts, fears, and trepidation withered away overpowering me with a magical sense of purpose, strength, and inspiration. I was ready to take off with our precious birdey to the skies!!