Short stories born out of mere emotions of Life

Where the dhak calls and the feet just won't stop

It was an exam day, and I was returning home from school, my mind littered with math equations and the Tragic fate of King Louis XVI, when suddenly I looked out of my window and Ah ! Those Kash flowers looked so beautiful in their milky white attire, dancing to the rhythm of the air filled with enthusiasm of Someone's upcoming arrival. They called out to me, saying in Bengali "Ki re, Baari jabina?  Maa asche toh !!" [Mother (Goddess Durga) is coming soon !! Won't you go home ?]....I nodded slightly, Yes....it was again that time of the year when I go back home, the place, where the Dhak never stops and everybody is in ecstasy of enthusiasm of welcoming the Goddess Mother. 

 Kash flower

Dhak

Soon enough, the exams were over and I found myself on the way to Kolkata. I had lovely visions of roaming all night at Kolkata, relishing street delicacies and visiting beautiful theme based pandals (temporary tents where the Idols are worshiped). The greenery and distant hills of the countryside were cooling to the tired and hungry eyes. And so laughing and singing, we soon reached Kolkata, the city of Joy- The city with an old soul but a modern outlook, The City with thousand memories from the past.

A Pandal

Now, most of you may not know, but the real fun and Glamour of the Puja starts at around 11 pm at night and ends at about 6 am in the morning. This is because at night, most roads restrict vehicles and so, the roads which were filled with noisy traffic of car and smoke, are filled with crowds of sleepless and enthusiastic people, laughing and roaming all night. The few days of the Puja, the city remains awake at night. 

And we were not any different, after a heavy dinner at Absolute BBQ Nation at about 11.30 pm, we decided to visit few pandals and return home at about 3.30 am. What surprised me was that, even at midnight, I did not feel a pinch of sleep, nor did the people about me. That, was the magic of my city. Fabulous Pandals,lighting, colorful fairs and the work of Creative sculptures, had hypnotised the people of Kolkata all night long. But I was able to break away from the enchantment and soon enough was sleepy. But, at the longing of my little cousin, I walked on.

Then, near a pandal I noticed a poor beggar-woman, wearing a traditional red-white saree, torn and dusty with poverty and grief. She was sitting on a mat along with her children, she had long hair and her eyes held me still but for just a moment. Then I walked on, not overthinking much.Then suddenly, I felt for my sling bag, and realised....I didn't have it !! Had I dropped it somewhere ? Maybe I was soo sleepy that I left it behind at the restaurant ?? Oh....the tension and fear engulfed me in it's evil aura for a minute when suddenly, I felt a hand on me. I looked behind me, it was the same woman. She was wearing the most enchanting smile on her face, her dusty face, seemed as if they were made of gold...and she....she had my bag. I realised I had dropped it when I was perhaps looking at her. I just took the bag, speechless and murmured a soft "Thank you"...and tried to give her a ten-rupee note which she didn't take and went back again to her improvised tent. She seemed to have as if the ten hands of the Goddess, taking care of such a huge family. It seemed as if she had the soul of the Goddess.

That night, when I fell on my bed, tired, I couldn't sleep. I realised I had seen the Goddess, not seated in a Golden Throne of Authority or in a pandal, made with a budget of few lakhs , but mingled and lost, in the crowd of Life. Ignored, but watching us mortals from her humble poor abode.