It’s autumn time in Bengal. The season of festivity, the season of happiness-is round the corner.
The sky is emerald blue, bright sunshine is touching the heart of everyone.
It’s the time of Durga Puja-the worship of goddess Durga.
Like Christmas, Durga Puja too is the festival of joy for Indian people.
Touching the heart of millions, goddess Durga comes to earth from heaven.
It’s a festival for the rich and the poor, for old and for the young,for white and the black, in the words of John Lennon.
There is no racial discrimination in sharing the joy of the festival.
Durga Puja is basically the conquest of light over darkness, honesty over dishonesty, eternity over death.
The four day festival symbolizes a win of gods over demons (or religion over sin).
When I was a little girl, I used to go out with my dad to absorb the joy of the Puja-all the four days.
My story revolves around one of such days-after a successful cruise on feet for ‘pandal’hoping.
It was late night and we were returning to our home, exhausted but joyous.
We saw a very old couple, standing in front of their house.
Probably they were unable to go out or probably their son is out of the home or whatever reason it may be, they were just observing the crowd, standing hand to hand, willing to go out but unable to do so.
Their face told me that they ere fully dependant on each other.
I was too young then to realize human emotions, but it was evident that if one of them goes, the other on will not survive.
Ages have passed since then.
But still to me, Durga Puja is symbolized by that picture of utter dependency.