Shaktirupena—A Durga Puja Series Part 2

Ashtami's Anjali During Durga Puja

Joy Uncle was breaking the stems from lotus flowers and giving the lotus to everyone to offer at Maa Durga’s feet. The thakurmoshai was chanting mantras with people trying to pronounce them. I missed half of them, except for the ones I knew, like the guru mantra. Everyone’s hands are folded with flowers in their hands, as if whispering something inaudible to wish for the best year ahead. To prevent their problems, to give them a better life ahead, and to make themselves better. I prayed for strength from Maa Durga. Over the years, I craved my mother’s affection, and here the festivities come to allow a daughter to spend time with her mother. One of the women, dressed in a grey saree, red sindoor, and grey hair, gives me another lotus to ensure my well-being. Joy Uncle is screaming once again to leave the space in the middle. The 108 diyas are already lit outside the pandal with a tent to shelter the lighted flames from the rain and storm outside. 

“Thakurmoshai, only 4 minutes are left. Read the Shaktirupena mantra and do three pushpanjali at once and get over with the puja,” instructed Joy Uncle. He has not been able to sleep for the past seven days. The Bengali community in the area is calling him for the details of the Durga Puja at 3 am. The arrangements of the puja essentials are something that is not allowing him to sleep properly. The uncle who wears a cap and specs entered the pandal to say that the long strand of arati has caught fire. Joy uncle shouted not to spray water to extinguish the fire; instead, let it be. The pandal is made of leaves; it will get extinguished soon. Amidst the crowd of so many people, the uncle wearing a cap told me to come for the puja today. 

“You haven’t been to puja and spent time with us for a single day. You must enjoy this auspicious occasion,“ he added further. 

I was crying back in my room for choosing solitude over the toxic people. Sometimes, loneliness, too, gets the best out of you. You forget the food, the rent, the strangers, and the cats and dogs who make your life better. Partying till 8 am in the morning is not me. Interacting with men is not me. Worrying about money is not me. I am a mother too, who would have never left home if the situation weren’t so bad. My pets are my children; their love is what makes me who I am today. The books I read and the world I travel through the lines in a book are me. 

“I am scared of meeting you. You have changed so many men in a year,” said one of my exes. 

“Are you mad? I am not what you are showing me. I am exploring things my own way. Learning from them with the clarity it gives me.”

“No, why do you repeat the same mistakes over and over again?” remarked my ex, who repeated it again almost the third or fourth time in conversation before he hung up the line on my face. 

To read the next part of the blog series, click on this link now.