Durga Puja at 41, Deblane:

Yellow: Spirit of De ja Vous & Cheerfulness:

MAHA NABOMI :

(Prior Script: I had to finish this piece of writing in the early morning hour of today, the day of Dasomi, when Ma Durga will leave her natal house again, in order to get back to Kailash to be reunited with her husband Lord Shiva. Till my next, have a great day and stay blessed.) 

Today is Nabomi, the 9th day of The Puja. After I was done with the cleaning work, the first thing I remember, and this may be a controversial topic, is having seen Tumpa, the younger daughter of my late cousin, bringing some of the utensils out of the thakurghar and washing them. I wanted to help, and she agreed and asked me to soap the pots. Sis, Jaya turned up by them. I couldn't help remarking :

"Girishda'r meye, other gharer keu ele ekhon amader samparke ki bhabbey?" If anyone from their family turns up right now and finds her doing the utensils, what will they think of us? After all, she is late Girishda's daughter."

"Why? Don't they know that I am a daughter of The House?"(41 Deblane) she asked jovially.

Sis in the meantime asked her why Krishnadi, the maid, couldn't do the dishes. To which Tumpa replied that some utensils were required right at that time for the puja purpose. Krishnadi normally comes at around 7 a.m.Tumpa finished washing the big brass plates and I felt guilty. How would I have felt if I found Akansha doing the dishes somewhere? 

Keishnadi, fortunately, turned up soon afterward, and the matter was closed. 

The next thing I remember was how I had to go get some belpata from somewhere. Last night, Jaya asked me to get some from the flower seller. I bought a handful from him. On my return, she told me that the belpata was not adequate. I wanted to get some more right at that moment but decided not to go out anymore. I did buy some (2 sticks) for ten rupees in the morning today from an old lady. 

When the belpatas were found insufficient even after the second purchase, I left for the market again. This time the aged woman, the flower-seller, refused to sell me only belpatas. I decided to buy some from another seller. As I had to buy some ginger, I walked towards Pottery Road. The man who sold me the ginger, talked of a bel tree nearby. I went down the steps. 

"Dada, ekhane bel gachh kothai achhey bolte paren?" I asked a man with a mix of black and white hair, coming out of a house when I noticed the bels, (a kind of fruit that can be eaten both raw and ripe though when it is eaten raw, it has a sour taste) hanging from the branches. 

"Apni jato ichchhey nitey paren, tabey apnake nijeiee chhirey nitey habey." You can take as many as you want but you have to get them yourself. 

I thanked him but the task was far from easy. Not a single branch of the tree, was hanging low. I leaped at the nearest branch but could just catch a few leaves. To cut a long story short, a young chap finally climbed up on a nearby wall to get me some belpatas. 

The man with the streaks of white and black all over his head remarked: "Flower-sellers from all over come to take belpata from this tree. We don't mind. You can pluck as much as you want provided you do it yourself."

I thanked him profusely and came back home. Bulan had promised to fetch more from their place along with the mankachu pata, the leaf of a plant. I had hardly entered the house when I heard Jaya asking someone, "Apni ese gechhen? " So, you have come then? On turning my head, I found the lorry driver. Earlier in the day, I had heard Tumpa telling my wife that this time the images of the goddess are not to be immersed in The Ganges by an order. So, I asked the driver if he had heard anything in this regard. He asked me not to worry and gave me a missed call to save his number in case he learned anything more on the topic. He promised to be at 41 right after the image of Ma Durga of the house of Deb Babu (the zaminder of this locality when the Brits were ruling over India) was immersed. That's how I came to know the name of the age-old lorry driver, TINKU. 

The rest of the day was full of fun and laughter. I snapped lots of photos, including that of my nephew. Even initially I didn't wish Papu, Arunabha, on account of it being his birthday. But as long as you are physically present in 41, Deblane during The Pujas, all misunderstandings get resolved and relationships get strengthened. I was happy to talk to them in the end, especially my bhagne, as I have lots of fond memories with him. Sis was in her element and added to the charm of The Puja at 41 by cracking jokes, pulling the legs of people like Nityanandada, a family-friend cum my teacher in the lower classes. Sis must have picked up this habit from her husband. The antakshari contests, the daughters-in-law of the house singing ( Rekha Baudi, my late Mejda's widow, sang a couple of nice songs while Manasi Baudi, my late Sejda's wife, someone I considered to be the best singer in the family, could just get a line or two out of her mouth. She stopped singing after the tragic demise of Sejda. Life, you see, reader, is full of poignant, meaningful, pulsating stories?) and the dances at the time of The Arati, were things to be cherished for life. 

I have been a man known for my negative attitude. But what a positive remark can do, I realized when Maman, Bratati Bhattacharyya, teacher of a government high school, snatched away the piece of cloth from my hand for mopping the tables. 

"Tor Baba dekhley ki bhabten? Amar ei meyeta ke diye eto kaj karachchhey?" (What would your late father have thought, had he seen me making you do menial work like this?")

I tried to say something befitting the revelry of the moment. I corrected myself immediately recollecting Sejda. He would have always wanted his only daughter to learn about Life the harder way. "Na, na. Tor Baba ei katha bolten na," I corrected myself almost immediately afterward.

Anyway, I let her mop the table as I heard Maman remarking in response to someone's quip, "Babari bhai na."(He is my late father's bro, after all.) And this positive piece kept me going for the rest of the day. My extremely educated, cultured niece considers me capable enough to be a brother of my late Sejda, undoubtedly the most popular of all my siblings to date., 

As Sis and I sat down and Sis served me the food (I wanted to serve her to provide some respite to her tiring legs). I got back to my complaining self again. I told Sis that I missed the brother who rendered yeoman's service to keep the tradition of The Puja at 41 going. This is the first time in my experience that none from his family turned up. My wife told me that she tried to call Dinka several times, tried Payel's number, and sent a message to Tuludi, my Sister-in-law, but there was no response from the family. We hope they are all right as I have heard it said from many, that the very act of attending The Pujas at 41, brings unimagined blessings and dispels all doom and gloom for 1 year till Her Arrival back to the earthly abode next year. 

Happy Dasomi.