The Retro Feeling - Looking at life through the rear view mirror!

Chicken Malaikari for a flavourful meal

Nothing like good old chicken curry to bring warmth to your soul and add flavour to your table on a winter afternoon. Sharing the recipe of my very talented friend Heema Roy Choudhury. Though she sounds humble, she’s a great cook and a painter too. You can check out her paintings at Hearts Work on Facebook. And try this yummy chicken curry with coconut milk for Sunday lunch.

I’m not a foodie and I always want to spend very less time in kitchen but cook delicious meals at the same time using many tips to cook fast. I eat to live but my family lives to eat, let’s put it that way. Even though I can eat almost anything (avoiding few without complaints but if I’m a judge at a cooking contest it will be really difficult to pass my taste bud with a good score.

I love using coconut milk in my recipes and would love to share my favourite Chicken Malaikari.

Ingredients

1. Chicken: 1 kg

2. Onions:2 medium cut into small slices

3. Garlic and ginger paste: 2 tsp each

4. Green chilly paste: 2 nos, can be more or less according to tolerance level. You can also add 1tsp Kashmiri chilli powder for colour.

5. Garam masala (Green cardamom pods -2/3 crushed, cinnamon powder-1 tsp, cloves-2/3 nos, bay leaves -2)

6. Turmeric powder: 2tsp

7. Lemon juice:2 tsp

8. Mixture of mustard oil and refined oil: 4tbs

9. Coconut milk: 1 can (2 cups)

10.Coriander powder-2tsp

11.Cumin powder-2tsp

12.Salt according to taste

13.Sugar-2tsp

METHOD

1.Add turmeric, cumin, coriander, lemon juice, garlic & ginger paste and salt into chicken pieces and mix them well.

2.Now heat oil in a pan. Add garam masala in it and let the aroma come out of it.

3.Next add onions and sugar and fry in low flame for few minutes.

4. Add the chicken. Mix well . Cook for 10- 15 minutes. Then you can cover the pan with a lid and stir occasionally. Cook till checked pieces get softened.

5.After that open the lid and pour the coconut milk and mix well. If required water can be added. Salt is added to taste.

You can serve it with rice, roti, chapati or paratha.

The early winter nip and the choking pollution

There’s little nip in the air. Feel like hugging the blanket little longer in the morning, soaking in the sweet sunshine (whenever there’s sun that is)!

Early winters, I remember the dip in temperature and soft morning dew used to make me so happy once. There was something special about winters, especially the pleasant and gentle early winter. As a girl in Agartala, it was all about feeling the touch of morning dew on the leaves and green grass, clear blue sky, golden sunlight touching my face and melting the morning dew, sitting on the sunlit terrace after school, enjoying the winter veggies, hot milk and other delicacies. Mom would take the woolens out, repair the old sweaters, knit new ones. Dad would get jhola gur (runny jaggery) and fresh oranges from the nearby farms. Often after school we would sit on the terrace and have peanuts and oranges.

After Agartala, I spent two years in Hyderabad. Winters were just pleasant there. Nights would get cold, but days were warm, I somehow missed the chill. Moving to Delhi soon after Hyderabad in early 2000, exposed me to different kind of winter all together. I was completely engulfed in the Delhi fog. Since Hyderabad was not that cold, I didn’t have enough woolens. My cousin took to me shopping to Sarojini Nagar and Dilli Haat for warm clothes and shoes. That was the time when my fashion sense was at its peak though the budget was very limited. I had just started my first job with a meagre salary of Rs. 5000/- and I wanted to buy the whole world with it. I soon realized there were many other expenses besides fashionable clothes, shoes and purses, yet fashion could not be comprised. Hence, being fashionably turned out in winters took many hours of pushing through the crowd in Sarojini Nagar. Finally, I was very happy with the result. I would walk through the dense fog every mornings in my fashionable Sarojini Nagar jackets and boots and then take a DTC bus to work.

Smoggy Gurgaon sky, caputured by my colleague Arjun

I loved the Delhi fogs. There was something mysterious and romantic about them. The feeling on numbness, the low visibility, wondering what lay ahead. On weekends I would spend hours staring dreamily at the foggy landscape, watching the feeble lazy sun finally rise and melt the fog. I so loved hanging out in Dilli Haat and Sarojini Nagar, enjoying steaming momos and hot pakodas and chai. Then, before I knew it, the romantic fog suddenly turned into dirty and polluted smog. The cold air that we once enjoyed and breathed in freely started choking us. We started dreading the dull grey sky. And the saddest part is, we all know what’s causing the deadly pollution, technologies are available but there is absolutely no political will or bureaucratic will to act. We common plebeians’ crib and cry on social media and continue to suffer. There isn’t much we can do any way except voice our opinions, but unfortunately no one’s listening. A friend of mine has developed respiratory problems because of the pollution and has been advised by his doctor to leave the millennium city Gurgaon. “I can’t just leave for three months. My company’s not going to pay me,” he exclaims and continues to suffer.

And what worst tragedy or irony or SHAME is we kept our children locked up at home on Children’s Day. Talking about her 9 nine-year-old daughter’s reaction when she learnt school was shut on Children’s Day, a friend of mine said, “My daughter was all excited last evening. They go to school in colorful outfits of Children’s Day. She was so upset when I told her there will be no school today. ‘Why can’t you control AQI?’, she asked. I didn’t know what to tell her.” Air that you can’t breathe in, is that the gift we are giving our kids on Children’s Day? Is this the legacy we are leaving behind?

The desi lingering sweetness of Gur

While appreciating everything and everybody in his poem Bhalo Re Bhalo (loosely translated ‘All is Good’), Sukumar Ray, one of the greatest poets and humour writers of our time concludes: “Kintu shobar chaite bhalo, pauruti aar jhola gur” (But the best bet/ Is runny jaggery and bread).

The pleasure of dipping bread or roti in jhola gur (runny jaggery or jaggery syrup) and enjoying the sweet, sticky flavour on a winter morning. And once the bread gets over, dipping the finger in jhola gur and licking it, relishing it to the last dribble. As a child jhola gur was one of my most sought-after desserts or sweet sauce. As the days would get colder, we would wait for dad to get a tin (container) of jhola gur from one of the near by farms. We would sit on the dining table expectantly with a bowl waiting for mom to serve a spoonful of jhola gur. It would be followed by hours of licking the bowl clean, with eyes often shut and a satisfied chuckle. The happiness and satisfaction that simple jhola gur brought into our little lives!

Then there is round kejhur gur or nolen gur and chunks of aakher gur. We would wait for Masi to visit from Kolkata with patali gur, very popular in West Bengal. In Agartala, dominated by East Bengalis, jhola gur and khejur gur were more popular. While jhola gur and khejur gur are from made date palm (khejur) sap, tal patali is made from palm (tal) sap and aakher gur comes from sugarcane (aakh) juice. As kids we would love to suck little cubes of tal patali and khejur gur. The heavenly taste and the heady flavour of this crude desi sweetener can’t be matched by candies that kids crave for nowadays.

Nolen gurer patishapta
Image courtesy YouTube

Khejur gur or nolen gurer payesh (kheer made with nalen gur), nolen gurer pathishapta, nariyel naru made of gur are the sweet delicacies mom makes every winter. I still wait in the kitchen to taste the sweet, warm patishapta as my mom takes it off the tawa. Unfortunately, not many people make patishapta at home anymore and those available in sweet shops just don’t taste the same. But I do love nolen gurer sandesh and roshogolla and other sweets made of nolen gur that sweet shops across Bengal are flooded with. In Delhi you can visit the Bengali sweet shops in CR Park for nolen gur delicacies.

Nolen gurer sandesh
Image courtersy A Homemaker’s Diary

When I visited my Uncle in Chandigarh as a child, my aunt gave me small piece of gur after lunch. Gur helps with digestion so Punjabis have gur after meal, I was told. Later I sampled delicious gur ke parantha. Not just in Bengal and Punjab, gur is popular across India. Maharashtra is the largest producer and consumer of gur, I recently read in Wiki. In Maharashtra, during Makar Sankranti, a dessert called tilgul (sesame seed candy) is prepared with gur. In Gujarat, gur is known as gôḷ and is used during Makar Sankranti for similar preparation called tal na ladu or tal sankli. In rural Maharashtra and Karnataka, water and a piece of gur are given to a person coming home after working under hot sun. Gujratis also make laddus with wheat flour and gur and famous Marathi Puran Poli uses gur. Of course, we are all familiar with gur ki patti, gur ke gajak, moya made with gur and other desi healthy and tasty sweet snacks.

And gur is not just tasty, it has many health benefits. It prevents constipation, boosts immunity, detoxes liver, purifies blood, helps in digestion to list a few. However, like most desi delicacies, gur is not glamourous enough to appeal to the younger lot. A kid today will probably not even look at gur, let alone relish it. We Indians somehow pick western dessert and dishes over traditional Indian cuisine. Perhaps, gur is waiting to be discovered by a western chef to make it a happening sweetener.

The Diwali Hangover

Delhi and most of North India is still hung over from the Diwali revelries. The end of four-day partying, drinking and other festivities does leave a vacuum, on top of it the trauma of returning to work. The depressing fog caused by post Diwali pollution and crop burning doesn’t make things any easier.

Sanchita & her daughter Prapti decorating the house with diyas & rangoli
Photo courtesy Sanjay Kumar Roy

Diwali in Jaipur
Photo courtesy Riti Chakraborty

Diwali or Deepavali or the Festival of Light is the most important festival in India, celebrated across the country with much pomp and show. According to Hindu mythology, Diwali is celebrated to commemorate the homecoming of Lord Rama after vanquishing Ravana. To celebrate the victory of Rama over Ravana and welcome their king back home along with Lakshmana and Sita, people of Ayodhya lit up the city with earthen lamps, diyas.

As per another popular belief, Lord Krishna killed the Demon Narakasura, the evil king of Pragjyotishapura, near present-day Assam and released 16000 girls captivated by Narakasura. In Karnataka Diwali is celebrated as Naraka Chaturdasi, triumph of good over evil, observing Lord Krishna’s victory over Narakasura. Interestingly, both Rama and Krishna are incarnations of Lord Vishnu.

Poonam, Paras, Aliya & Amira all set for Diwali

Across north India, Goddess Lakshmi and Lord Ganesha are worshipped on the night of Diwali. Houses are cleaned and lit up. Though artificial lights are more popular nowadays, people still light diyas. New clothes, feasts, card parties, rangoli, flower decoration, crackers are important part of Diwali celebrations. However, there are lot of variations even here. For Marwaris it’s not just Lakshmi and Ganesha, they worship gold and silver coins on the night of Diwali. “Every Dhanteras we buy coins and add to our existing collection that are kept in the puja room or asana along with the deities. We worship Goddess Lakshmi and Lord Ganesha, and these coins on Diwali night,” says my Marwari friend Poonam. Largely a trader community, Marwari’s observe Bahi Khata Visarjan on Diwali (closing the old ledger and opening a new one). Thus, Diwali marks the beginning of a new financial year for this community. Marwaris also light up diyas with different oils on each day. “On Dhanteras we light up diyas with ghee, on Choti Diwali sarso ke tel ke diya and on the day of Diwali we light up diyas with teel tel.” says Poonam.

Images of Kali Pujo from my colleague Riti Chakraborty’s house in Kolkata

For us Bengalis, Diwali is about Kali Pujo. We worship the fearsome incarnation of Durga on the dark Diwali night. We do follow the tradition of decorating the house with diyas and lighting crackers. After moving to Delhi, I started buying clay idols of Lakshmi and Ganesh and decorating the house with flowers on Diwali. Assimilating whatever appeals to us, brings about a feeling of positivity, that’s the beauty of our traditions!

In Rajasthan, Diwali is a five day affair that starts with Dhanteras and ends with Bhai Dooj. Diwali in the cities of Rajasthan is an unforgettable experience. I was in Jaisalmer this Diwali, the golden city lit up with diyas was a sight to see. Diwali in Jaipur is a grand affair.

City Palace Jaipur
Photo courtesy Riti Chakraborty

The appeal of Diwali goes beyond religion. It’s a festival which has different cultural connotations, yet the spirit of festivity and optimism is something that is celebrated across the country, amongst different communities, a festival that is eagerly awaited each year!!

Of birthdays, growing up, adding years, feeling younger & more…

Birthdays are always so special to me. Many a ‘mature’ people have often told me, “What’s the big deal about birthday? It’s just another day.” For me they are a BIG deal, I wait for my birthday every year, for the wishes to pour in, the cakes, the gifts, even the FB wishes and videos. I subtly (and sometimes shamelessly) remind people about my upcoming birthday, lest they forget to wish. Passing years haven’t taken the sheen off birthday celebrations, I feel as excited as I did as a little girl. It’s not so much about a huge party or expensive presents, it’s more about being remembered by people you love, celebrating the day I came to this world, surely there’s something special about that day!

When I was a little girl, birthdays were about mom making kheer in the morning. I would be greeted with a spoonful of sweet kheer, new dress and maybe a toy. I grew up in a joint family, dida (dadi), kaku (uncles), pishi (bua) and cousins, besides my parents and sisters, would lovingly wish me happy birthday. There were no 12 a.m. celebrations then, birthday celebrations started in the morning. While my parents would get me a dress for my birthdays’, Namentu (my dad’s younger brother who was very popular with the children of the family) would indulge me with toys and books. Ranga pishi (my favourite bua) would ensure I got all my favourite sweets. Unfortunately, both Namentu and Ranga Pishi left us early and birthday’s or any other celebration has not been the same since.

Birthday 2018 in Agartala when my college friends surprised me

The highpoint of the day was about wearing a new dress and happily heading to the school bus stop holding Ranga Pishi’s hand with a bag full of toffees (Parle G or Eclairs). Birthday girls or boys would get special treatment in the school and that would start from the bus stop. Kids would wish me, give me flowers, I would handout a toffee to each child. On reaching school the class teacher would announce my birthday and the whole class would sing for me. After that I would hand out a toffee to each kid, close friends would get more than one (the birthday girl’s discretion made her so important that day). To think just one toffee could be so sought after!

Celebrations at office. I share my birthday with my colleague Abhishek

There would be small party at home in the evening. Mom would bake a cake, cook my favourite food. My best friend, few of my close friends and the whole family would gather for the cake cutting and the dinner thereafter. It was a simple homely affair but there was so much love and affection. I got cute little gifts like pens and pencil boxes which I cherished. Throwing a birthday party in a hotel or a restaurant, spending money on expensive gifts didn’t even cross our minds in those days. We were so happy blowing balloons, decorating the drawing room with coloured papers, being hugged and kissed and wished by everyone around. Those were the perfect birthdays!

After leaving home, midnight birthday celebrations in the hostel had its own share of fun and excitement. Friends and hostel mates would organize a cake, admirers would cue up with lovey dovey cards and sometimes flowers. Made me feel so grown up, years ahead seemed so exciting. When I started working, I started paying for my own birthday dinners and throwing birthday parties, that was a different feeling all together.

And celebrations continue with family & friends…

Of course, birthdays’ away from home haven’t always been easy. There were moments when I pined for more attention from someone special, felt people didn’t care enough for me and my birthday. But those are far and few, buried in the happy memories and excitement that birthday brings along with it each year. I have been blessed with friends who always take time out to make my birthday special, buy me gifts that I cherish!

And the best part is, even after celebrating so many birthdays I don’t feel any older. I don’t attempt to light up the cake with 40 something candles though. The glow of my happiness, youth, maturity and wisdom (that I have accumulated over the years hopefully) is enough for that!!

Bidding adieu to little Miss Hankie: whiff of an era gone by

Once upon a time she was my constant companion. I wouldn’t leave home without her. Whether going to school in the morning or visiting neighbours in the evening, she would be neatly folded and pinned to my dress or tugged in my skirt. We loved playing Rumal Choras kids. When I started carrying fancy bags to college, she found a special place in that bag. Life was unimaginable without her.

Sparking white, or in soothing pale shades of pink or blue, with pretty flowers or little birds embroidered, honeycombed edges, Miss Hankie and her friends were such a delight. I remember making my first little hankie when I was in 4^th standard. SUPW (Socially Useful Productive Work) was a compulsory subject in school then. With such excitement and love I hemmed the edges of a small square pale blue cloth and embroidered a pink lotus in one corner. After that I went on to make so many hankies, in different colours and embroideries, some with my name stylishly embroidered. I was so proud of carrying my own little hankies, sometimes perfumed, gently dabbing away sweat or dust from the face and neck.

Miss Hankie was ever so romantic and enigmatic. Lovelorn youth would often find solace in the sweet-smelling handkerchief of their lady love. Boys would use hanky as ploy to strike a conversation with the person of their interest. “Excuse me Miss, I think you dropped your hanky,” was corniest pick up line ever. Miss Hankie found a special place in romantic Bollywood movies as well – Reshmi Rumal, Kaali Topi Lal Rumal, where handkerchief played such an important role. There are so many romantic movie scenes where the male protagonist is seen languishing over a delicate little hanky of his beloved.

For the male counterpart of Miss. Hankie, it was all about chivalry. We have so often seen the protagonist offer his handkerchief with aplomb to a damsel in distress. The ‘resham ki rumal’ has always added to the appeal of the swashbuckling Hindi film hero. Remember Shammi Kapoor in “Sar par topi lal, haath me reshmi rumal hai tera kya kehena”

Sadly however, little Miss Hankie is now on the brink of extinction, nudged away by the convenient tissues. Like most people of my generation, I am guilty of making the switch to tissues. I have lost all my little hankies; I just carry a pack of face tissue in my purse. There are hand tissues and paper towels that have made hankies completely redundant. My mom, however, still sticks to her hankies, finding them more reliable than the array of tissues. Fortunately, male handkerchiefs have survived, they still find place in most men’s pocket, though the charisma once associated with them is lost.

Tissues may have brought in convenience, but unlike hankies there’s nothing romantic about them. There was something personal about hankies, reflecting so strongly the personality of their owner – the touch, the smell. Tissues on the other hand don’t have a distinct character, they are just use and throw. And the idea of picking up a used tissue is quite repulsive, no matter how beautiful or charming the user may be!

“Resham ka rumaal gale pe dalke”.

Ma Lokkhi: Worshipping the Golden Goddess on Sharad Purnima or Kojagari Purnima

Ma Lokkhi
Image courtesy http://www.kumartuli.com

Goddess Lakshmi, is she the milder manifestation of Durga or is she her daughter? There are various interpretations in Hinduism. Durga – also knowns as Parvati or Kali (in more awe-inspiring form) and, Lakshmi & Saraswathi are considered to be Tridevi in Shaktism. They are the consorts of the Trimurti – Shiva, Vishnu and Brahma. Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and Saraswathi the goddess of learning, are the milder manifestations of Adi Parashakti, Devi. We Bengali’s however consider Lakshmi and Saraswathi to be daughters of Durga. Daughters are manifestations of their mothers anyway, so I don’t see a problem with either interpretation.

In Bengal and other eastern states Lakshmi or Kojagari Lokkhi is worshiped on the full moon night that falls after Dashami or Dussehra. On Diwali, when Lakshmi and Ganesha are worshipped in North India, we worship the formidable Kali on Amavasya – the night of the new moon. Since this is the month of the Goddesses, Shakti or women power, I decided to pen a post on the apparently mild and quiet Goddess Lakshmi or Ma Lokkhi.

She is the goddess of wealth and prosperity, hence she is worshipped and sought after by all. Traditions may be different, rituals may vary, but Goddess Lakshmi is worshipped by Hindus, Buddhist and Jains across India. And don’t go by her benign smile and her quiet grace, she is one of the most whimsical goddesses’. Known as chanchala she doesn’t reside is one place for long. She needs to be constantly sought after, worshipped. She maybe seen sitting quietly at the feet of her consort Vishnu but don’t mistake her for an obedient wife. While Vishnu is all for Dharma, Lakshmi will grant her blessings on whoever she pleases. She doesn’t care if her devotee is an asura or a sinner. We all know that the demon king Ravana lived in a majestic palace made of solid gold.

In Bengal, this whimsical Goddess is worshipped on the night of Sharad Purnima or Kojagari Purnima. Ma Lokkhi is worshipped in pandals that lie lonely after the departure of Ma Durga and in most Bengali households. Her presence brings back the festive cheer, fills the vacuum that we feel once the four-day Durgotsav comes to an end. Ma Lokkhi, we worship has two hands. Dressed in red, with a benevolent smile she comes riding an owl, holding a gachkouto (red coloured pot filled with sindoorand a silver coin) in one hand and blessing us with the other. The golden goddess is known for her beauty, her aura lights up the world.

Lokkhi Pujo was an important part of my growing up years. I remember going to the market with my uncle and cousins to pick up the most beautiful idol of the goddess. The house would be cleaned, we would put rangoli or alpana with rice powder paste all over the house. Feet of Ma Lokkhi would be drawn at each doorstep to ensure that the Goddess visits the household. The elaborate bhog would consist of nariyal naru, chirer moya, fruits, sweets, lucchi, khichdi, labra, chutney and kheer, and of course pan supuri (beetle leaves & nuts). Mom would decorate the vedi with flowers, a kalash with nariyal and amra pallab (nascent mango leaves) would be placed before the Goddess. The room would be decorated with alpana and flowers.

Mom and other aunts would wear fresh clothes, usually a red sari, comb their hair, put on sindoor, bindi and alta (red dye applied on the feet). Ma Lokkhi likes cleanliness, she likes well-dressed people, she likes peace and quiet. Fearing that the goddess may flee at the sight of anything untidy the whole house would be cleaned and decked up. As a little girl I would excitedly watch the preparations of the pujo, helping with the decorations and alpana. I would beg mom to put some alta on my feet and she would eventually oblige. Ladies of the house would observe fast on the day of the pujo that would be broken with Chipitak Bhakhan (coconut water and chire) after the pujo. Though the bhog laid out for the goddess is vegetarian, married women are supposed to eat fish after the pujo. According to Hindu mythology the goddess visits her devotes only very late at night, so we would wait up for her.

Though I have stayed away from home for a while, not been part of Lokkhi Pujo in years, I feel the same excitement on the day of the Pujo. I am not greedy for riches; I pray to Ma Lokkhi to bless me with enough wealth, wisdom and strength to take care of myself and those around me!

Shobho Bijoya Dhashami: Bidding Adieu to the Mother Goddess

Bijoya Dashami! Time to bid adieu to Goddess Durga, the all-powerful Mother. The day brings back memories of Dadur Barir Durga Pujo (Puja at my maternal grand father’s ancestral home). Ladies would gather before the Durga idol since morning, feeding her sweets, wiping her tears with pan (beetle leaves), trying to catch a glimpse of her feet in the water. This would be followed by Shidhur Khela – married women smearing each other with red sindoor. Once the rituals of Dhashami Pujo was complete the male members would get the Ek Chalar Durga Pratima out of the huge puja ghar. Every year the puja ghar would be decorated and a vedi would be made for Ma Durga and her children. Getting the idol down from the vedi and out of the puja ghar took a lot of maneuvering.

Ma Durga would be then placed in the huge courtyard. Sound of dhak, kashor, ghanta, conch, smell of dhoop would fill the atmosphere. The whole extended family danced around Durga, teary eyed – ‘Aami daaki ma ma, mai toh kane shone na’ (I keep calling out to Mother, but she has turned a deaf ear to me).

Finally, time to let go. The idol of the Goddess would be immersed in the pond that lay at the backside of the courtyard. Ma Durga along with her entourage being lifted deftly and carried to the pond, following the procession eagerly with a heavy heart, scampering for her jewelry and her weapons as the Goddess was immersed in the water, crying out loud as the Mother Goddess let herself be devoured by the water body…

Those were the pre-mobile camera days. Unfortunately, I have no photographs to share but the images are firmly etched in my memory…

Shobho Bijoya Dhashami, may Devi grant us wisdom and peace of mind!

Real Clothing for Real Women: SAANCHI by Sanchita Singh Roy

I am talking to Sanchita Singh Roy from SAANCHi. This interview is special not only because Sanchita is a very dear friend. I love the effortlessly elegant clothes designed by SAANCHI. Be it office wear, party or weddings Sanchita’s creations will make you stand out. And what I like best about her is that she creates clothes that can add to the beauty and elegance of every women. The cuts, the silhouettes, the textures and the colours, her classic style complement real women.

If I may admit, I first visited Sanchita’s studio reluctantly on her husband Sanjay’s request. Sanjay has been a close friend and I was afraid that I would be obliged to buy something from Sanchita even if I didn’t like her work. But the moment I stepped into her studio I fell in love with her work, bought so many of her beautiful pieces myself, recommended her to many of my friends. So, let’s hear from Sanchita in the video link below…

Durga Pujo: soaking up in the Divine Glow

The golden sunlight, the clear blue sky, the white cottony clouds
The gentle cool breeze, the sweet smell of shiuli, or just the memory of that smell whiffing through the air
Ears straining for the sound of dhak, the excitement of dhunochi dance
Absurd heart yearning to soak up in the spirit of Durga Pujo and the festivities
To while away the mornings, the afternoons and the evenings idly busy in the pandal
To feel purposeful, yet do nothing
To feel the nearness of the soft glow of the divine power
The positivity, the optimism and the cheer

Dressing up in best saris, suits and jewelry
Showing ourselves off in the radiance of the divine glow
Sampling the choicest delicacy
Hopping from pandal to pandal as if nothing else mattered on those four days of Matri Pujo

The carefree Pujo days while we were growing up
Memories come flooding back with the gentle breeze, the soft dew, the all forgiving smile and the golden aura of Devi
“Devi arrived on ghatak (horse) this year, that’s bad omen,” exclaims my mother
The all-powerful Mother Goddess can only be the harbinger of hope, of all the good that awaits us, protests my absurd heart!!