Saturday, October 17, 2009

I have been lately thinking

Sometimes when I close my eyes…I see those brilliant suns soaked days in my mountains…Absolute blue sky….gently floating cumulonimbus clouds…ever smiling faces on the doorstep….ringing bells of the nearest temples….a gentle lazy walk with my brother in the afternoon….or simply sitting on the rooftop…watching the sun going down….feeling the cold dampness in the wind…Those were perfect days…I had the time...I had the way....



I used to visit a small village in Uttarakhand for Durga Pujo celebration…organized by a some expat Bengalis from Rudrapur…Pujo was a normal smallish affair between the families….hardly 50 people gathered around dense poplar, geranium trees, near the tall ever green deodars….we would then put up our small shamiana over there…and have a small…rather reclusive Pujo…
I was on my first year of college…terribly upset about spending my time away from the brightly illuminated Raj path of Kolkata…I had plans with my friends for a night-out during Ashtomi i.e. the 8th day of Navaratri….all gone down the drain….Now there I was…small pahari village surrounded by Himalayas and fabled Jim Corbett national park…few kilometers from the breathtaking Ramganga river…celebrating Ma Durga’s arrival…in her own land…that was a peculiar feeling….miles away from the hustle and bustle of crowd cramped streets of Kolkata…a vast space…open…lined with corn fields….flanked by the majestic Himalayas…with crown jewel Nainital lit up on the top of mountain….famous delhi-hardwar highway passing by…sometimes odd sounds of army convoy heavy vehicles carrying up ammo to forward post….crackles from radio…somebody listening to Vividh Bharati….common melody of cricket singing in unison…
Nobody spoke for the entire duration while the Pujo was performed…I was moved…stood motionless…watching engrossed old Brahmin performing Bodhan…
That dim lit night…chilly winds blowing in possible directions…slow but continuously flickering flames of the candle…only slow clear chants mantras…coupled with strange smell of ghee mixed with jungle flowers….It took my mind away…This is the real Pujo…I told to myself…no fancy pandals…no big crowds....no fight over the pandals themes…only divine interaction between the man and the maker…