Pujo II

Dasera was a always a sad day for me!! I talk of a time when life was simple, there was no computer let alone internet, there was one TV channel and that too played 1-2 hrs of entertainment per day max. A time when a cold-drink needed a special occasion, a chocolate was a celebration and ice cream was more often made at home than bought. A time when every piece of clothing I owned I knew when, where and why it was bought. A time when sweaters were knitted at home and were actually needed during pujo. This is the time when pujo was 5 days of pure magic, a time when everything seemed golden; when discipline was not paramount, fun was; when I saw my parents for a while be what life otherwise didnt let them be - carefree.

For 4 days: afternoons meant drawing competitions, fun games, khichoori (khichdi) bhog, cold drinks and ice creams without reason, haathkhorcha (pocket-money) from ma, baba, kaka, kakima, jetha, mama etc etc, while evenings meant running around unsupervised, hide and seek, pakda-pakdi, adda-golpo, biryani, more ice creams, mishti, and late nights; movie screenings that started at 12, a time when projector reels on white curtains still drew in the crowds, plays and dance dramas where kakas and kakimas became superstars; a time when everyone gathered in expectation to listen live to a maestro because you weren't bombarded by his voice incessantly over a thousand media. A time of playing late into the night until tiredness brought sleep and not the toll of a watch or the deadline on the morrow; of riding back home, 4 ppl on a scooter, making groups of such scooters headed in the same direction so as to prevent ambush by chor-dakaat (dacoit). Yes, it was a magical time!

2 complete sets of new clothes everyday for 4 days, planned well in advance to the tiniest detail, some friends whom u met only on those 4 days but were never awkward with, the dadas and didis who always seemed to like me, the girls - some that i liked, others that liked me -,the guys that competed - and lost - the flirting and the fights, the snobbery and the confidence. It was a time when nothing mattered, nothing bothered you, when eating out was the norm and having fun the only rule.

And late on navami, when the feet refused to move anymore, and the voice was hoarse and gone, when the eyelids couldn't stop from meeting each other - u said goodbye for the first time in those 4 days (all other times it was just a temporary break) and went home to wake up on Dasera. It was always a sad day, a day when all my neighbours were celebrating and I had a heavy heart. Ma was going away but that wasn't
what really made me sad. It was the end of a golden time, a magic that no other time in life has given. Yet i knew it would be back next year and I couldn't help but look forward to it.

And as the years flowed, the projector disappeared, the scooter became a car, the games reduced, the adda - and the flirting - increased, but the magic remained until finally the flock flew away. Today I see a bunch of new kids with the glint of magic in their eyes, the nights though end at 11 and a lot of the fun is not exclusive to pujo as it once was for us.

And most of my dadas and didis and the girls and the competitors are gone, some south, others north, some across the oceans and maybe some across the skies too but I am sure wherever they are every sharadiyo sashti or ashtami they atleast once remember that ground in Pimpri (dunno what stands there today)!

And Dasera is still a sad day for me, even if all I did in those 4 days of pujo this time around was work, because Dasera still is the exclamation mark at the end of magic!