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Festival Of Tradition

Festival Of Tradition

3 mins
326


It's the day of Makar Sankranti. Once upon a time, the day had another level of importance in Sushma's life. There was time of "Khamar Puja" (worshipping the granary) at the evening, the fox's sound at night, "Pitha parvan" (festival of making patties), the "Makar Utsav"(nectar of god), and ultimately there came the third day, the last occasion of this festival, the "Khola Vishram", the day of rest. All these were part of the rich cultural tradition of India.  But today!! Sushma takes a deep breath of grief. Now she is at her son's house in a huge city, which is far far away from her village home, far away from the greenery of nature, far away from the fresh air. Time has fled away in its own terms leaving Sushma alone with this old age. The man who once promised to be together with her for the next seven births has also fled away in the unknown city of paradise leaving Sushma alone to mourn here. 


The former days of making the patties have been passed away as that man. Now the patties can be found in shops and the city people buy those to make a farce of this festival. Yes, Sushma feels so, now it's nothing but a farce for these people. What the use of celebrating it when no one knows the importance of the festival, no one knows the traditional origin of the festival, no one knows how to commemorate it!!!  Once Sushma's son has brought patties for her, taking it in the mouth she realized that there is no touch of that age-old love of Sankranti, there is only the mechanics of the business. Sushma takes a deep sigh… The beautiful tradition of India, the sweet tradition of Makar Sankranti has been worn out, and would never come back...


 "Granny is it okay?"

 The reminiscence of Sushma has suddenly been broken by the voice of her granddaughter-in-law, Kriti. Sushma looks at her and gets a shock with the sight--- the girl is standing there with a face and hands full of white dust. The experienced eyes of Sushma can immediately recognize the dust, it's the dust of rice.


 "Kriti!!! What happened dear, what are you doing?"

 "I am trying to make patties granny."

"You!"

"Why not? after all, it's the Makar Sankranti, we have to make it na?"

 "But… Can you do it?"

 "I must have to do it, granny. After all, it's the tradition of our country. I'm sure I will be able to do it. I have heard from dad that you were a great baker in your youth. I may not be able to make the patties as perfectly as you use to make, but I will try. And granny I need your guidance in this matter. Will you guide me a little, please?"

The girl takes a deep breath of relief after speaking out so many things together. But Sushma couldn't utter a single word in reply. Tears roll down from her eyes.


"What happen granny? Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong that hurt you?" The girl asks in a startling voice. 

Sushma spreads her withered hands and hugs the young girl tightly, 

"No, no, no… It's the tears of joy my dear, the tears of joy… you have not hurt me, rather you make me feel so proud, so relieved that our tradition is not going to die. It will be carried forward in the hands of our heirs when we will no longer be there on the earth."


"Hail India… hail mother!!!" The old heart cried in happiness.


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