Durga Puja and the "Dhai Sawaari"
Being the youngest of all siblings and that too with a big gap has its own perks. Like, for Puja - not only Ma-baba would buy me clothes, but both my didi, jijaji and dada-boudi would send in advance (if they could not make it to home) clothes for puja. Showing off the clothes to friends and neighbors was a pre-occupation of the Puja times. While, some of my friends would keep their clothes hidden in the closet until the day of the Puja (which, I never could understand), I would make it a point to hang them out to show whoever visited us before / during Puja. And, if you do not know, I had a new dress to wear for Mahalaya and from Shashti to Navami, both times.
With its perk, there was an annoyance being the youngest. And that was the fact, that I never became an adult while at home. I have always remained a kid - for instance, we used to take 'rikshaw' to the Kalibadi and my Dad would hail one of those Riskshaw's standing under the shade during bright October noon and ask the old rikshaw driver, "Dhai Sawari (2.5 seat), Kalibadi. Kitna Loge (how much)?" I still remember the stare of that old rickshaw man. He would look at my Dad, then at my Mom and then stop at me. Mind you, these are the times, when I would be either in college or be at home on Puja vacation from my Office.
Another interesting part of Puja was the fact that since you are dressed in your best, you catch quite many eyes in the Pandal. For example, the guy who always wanted to talk to you in college, might muster the guts and say hello to you. And you would be so much in trance of the environment there, that you would infact smile back and talk a talk. It was perfectly fine to go to college few days later and give a "go to hell" kind of look to the same person whose outfit you complimented in the pandal.
During one of those incidents, when you were exctatic by the flirtatious glares of a handsome bengali from your college while waiting on for the Bhog to be served - my mother would shout at the very same guy and tell him "give this little girl some khichudi". "Ma!", would be all I could say then...
Well, today I am all matured. I manage complex and even more situations perfectly well. And I so well know that my Ma-baba have no doubt about it. But, on occassions as these ... when puja is around and I wear a saree (for the sake of it) and pretend to show it off, when there is no one around ... I yearn so much for someone to call me "Dhai Sawaari" and "that little girl" again ...
Ma - Baba, I miss you. Durga Puja .. where is "Pujor gondho" .. the smell of puja ... ?
[I have written about these incidents earlier also .. but every puja brings back the same old memories ... ]
With its perk, there was an annoyance being the youngest. And that was the fact, that I never became an adult while at home. I have always remained a kid - for instance, we used to take 'rikshaw' to the Kalibadi and my Dad would hail one of those Riskshaw's standing under the shade during bright October noon and ask the old rikshaw driver, "Dhai Sawari (2.5 seat), Kalibadi. Kitna Loge (how much)?" I still remember the stare of that old rickshaw man. He would look at my Dad, then at my Mom and then stop at me. Mind you, these are the times, when I would be either in college or be at home on Puja vacation from my Office.
Another interesting part of Puja was the fact that since you are dressed in your best, you catch quite many eyes in the Pandal. For example, the guy who always wanted to talk to you in college, might muster the guts and say hello to you. And you would be so much in trance of the environment there, that you would infact smile back and talk a talk. It was perfectly fine to go to college few days later and give a "go to hell" kind of look to the same person whose outfit you complimented in the pandal.
During one of those incidents, when you were exctatic by the flirtatious glares of a handsome bengali from your college while waiting on for the Bhog to be served - my mother would shout at the very same guy and tell him "give this little girl some khichudi". "Ma!", would be all I could say then...
Well, today I am all matured. I manage complex and even more situations perfectly well. And I so well know that my Ma-baba have no doubt about it. But, on occassions as these ... when puja is around and I wear a saree (for the sake of it) and pretend to show it off, when there is no one around ... I yearn so much for someone to call me "Dhai Sawaari" and "that little girl" again ...
Ma - Baba, I miss you. Durga Puja .. where is "Pujor gondho" .. the smell of puja ... ?
[I have written about these incidents earlier also .. but every puja brings back the same old memories ... ]
This entry was posted
on Saturday, October 20, 2007 at 5:50 PM.
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11:12 PMAmita,
Haha! :P I know exactly what you mean about those friends who would hide their dresses till the festival day arrived. As kids, whenever we used to visit Pune in our summer vacations- everyone used to buy many new dresses for me and I used to wear them immediately and show them off to anyone who came over, proudly telling them that my dada/dadi/mama/mami gave this to me :P Yeah.. Those were the days... :)
But you know what? You'll always have us to show off your saari and/or other dresses to :) So show of all those lovely zari work saaris dear- now is the time :)
Hope you had a wonderful Durga Puja :)
Cheers!
Priyanka.
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