Shaktirupena—A Durga Puja Series Part 1

A Typical Durga Puja Mandap or Platform

In history books, I learned about how the way you speak out the mantras actually determines how people perceive them. In English, too, phonetics play a crucial role in determining the sounds of the words you speak. I was never aware of this connection until I was standing amongst the crowd of married Bengali and Bihari women with some unmarried women like us. With beads of sweat on our faces, we are wondering about how the cloudy weather could fail so miserably. All of us have been waiting for the past hour for the sandhi puja to begin, anyhow. Meanwhile, on the platform where Maa Durga is standing along with her children, Joy Uncle is screaming at people to leave the space in between for the prasad to arrive. The platform is filled with sweets, flowers, sarees, earthen pots with green coconuts placed on top of them, fruits, lotus, cotton buds, and straw mats. The thakurmoshai, or the priest, is an old man who is trying to bring the mike near his mouth. The married women are complaining; we couldn’t hear what you were chanting amidst the beats of the dhak purifying my body. 

“Only 19 minutes left before the Puja starts, Thakurmoshai,” said Joy Uncle. 

All of us are waiting for the puja to begin, but it is of no use. The women are dressed in red and white sarees with red sindoor on their foreheads. Everyone is waiting while fighting not to get removed from the presence of Maa Durga. 

“You are shifting me away from Maa’s influence. Please move inside so that I can see Maa’s face properly,” said a married woman with a face that is waiting to smile sooner or later. I ended up smiling at least because of her. 

Another old lady came to the pandal with a saree and some sweets along the way; she is searching for her granddaughter. Her husband is standing in the middle. Some Bihari women with orange sindoor are offering Maa a plate containing fruits and sweets. Joy uncle wrote the names of the people for whom the puja is done. There is something about the puja that you will find nowhere else in this world. The air is filled with its smell, with loads of lighting in every lane of Kolkata. No matter where you are and what you do, you will long for Maa Durga in Kolkata. The ten days of festivities are all about welcoming our daughter, Maa Durga, into her parents’ house and pampering her with lots of love. This is what we do in Kolkata. 

I locked myself in the four walls of my room to complete my assignments for the past two days. I cried for so many days over the things that took place over the past few months. Toxic friends, late-night parties, staying at unknown friends’ places, men making deliberate advances towards me, family betrayal, and others. Standing inside the pandal and feeling the mantras and drum is better than the life led before. The money always makes me anxious, but the best part of life is that it keeps going on. My mother’s pregnancy was a shock for me too. I was wondering about how come a woman can be so toxic to another woman. I know the decision to quit my parents was my own. Choosing my long-term stability over keeping family peace was my decision. Since my childhood, I was different, “quiet,” “not talented like others,” “a fool,” “a girl with no spine of her own,” “a girl with no dressing sense.” It has been more than one year; I haven’t spoken to my parents yet. The face of my mother with a baby bump and the new glow on her face makes me so happy. The unborn child was just a weapon to remove me from the property, but somehow, I love the child as my own from the farthest place on earth. I am replaceable, just like I replaced my parents with tons of strangers. I replaced my pets at home with strays on the way to the office. I replaced my craving for my pets’ affection with men who always disappointed me. I was not a woman fucking around with men, just one trying to root myself while the world around me was trying to uproot me with a heavy storm creating disturbances. 

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