This narrative was written on Shashti- the day Bengali households welcome Goddess Durga home: more popularly known as Devi Bodhan, the flag off of Durga Puja. As the ten-handed, beweaponed and perched-on-the-lion warrior comes home, I thought I’d share my take on the episode. To make the scenario a bit interesting and bordered on humour, the tale is recounted in Durga’s person! Forgive my audacity; I just could not resist putting down our ‘Carnival Of The Year’ from a different (if not entirely neutral) point of view!
The tale does not intend to hurt any religious views. It just states the funny side of the situation, entirely based on my take of the festival.
The extreme climate of this place nearly makes my home inhabitable- if you’d call it a home, that is! For the umpteenth time, I wonder why I chose to get married to an ascetic mountain dweller. Warrior or not, marriage effects women all the same! These tiger-skin skirts are such a pain even with the new detergent range and ten hands, I find laundry such a tough task. Perhaps I should start the “Himalayan laundry Services” for some extra income?
Never mind! It’s almost time for my annual vacation. How I long to escape this snow-clad terrain. Recently, the October vacation has proved to be the only source of entertainment for me. You see, the US intelligence agencies, task-forces and armies over the world have taken over the ‘demon hunting down’ and ‘annihilating’ job. You’ve got to realize (I’d rather say acknowledge) the military superiority of the evil now-a-days! Does anyone expect my rusty trident to match the machine guns? In fact, it isn’t as if I didn’t try for an up-gradation of weapons; please know that the fact remains simple- no capital, no business. Hence, I am rarely called over for any ‘Asura-mission’ now-a-days. I’d apply for a loan, but then, “mutual funds are subjected to market risks”, etc. etc. plus, my husband doesn’t have any land or property as security. Ah! The PM's scheme isn’t valid for ten-handed women, I hear!
This Mahalaya, I received a boat ticket. My children are sometimes really sweet- every year, they send me tickets of different sorts so I get to travel in an assortment of locomotors- boats, palanquins,horses, elephants!
They organize TV shows, radio shows, concerts and events of every description and dimension imaginable to welcome me home. I hardly remember my father being that caring or considerate, a few million years ago! Its actually surprising, the amount of effort the children put in for the short event. The anticipation, excitement and all the planning which goes in: it touches my heart. The other lovely thing, is the dressing up part! Back home, every time I ask for, or even mention any saree or jewellery, or even the latest Levis collection, my husband points at his tiger-skin skirt which is followed by a long speech on attachment to material comfort –Maya etc. which is just a different way to confess our lack of cash according to me!
Anyway, my children understand that warrior Goddess or not- I am a woman at heart, and yeah, I love dressing up. So, they’ve come up with this ‘theme puja’ concept where the pandal- which is now-a-days closer to palaces featured in Disney movies; is done up keeping a ‘theme’ in mind: of course, how can I be the spoiler? My attire is designed according to the theme as well! These themes, I have noticed, have evolved a great deal over years. Initially, it used to be simple ones like ‘promotion of the cottage industry’ or ‘recycle plastic’ etc. but recently, it has assumed humungous dimensions ranging from- domestic violence, save the girl child, Kargil war, exotic holiday locations and what not! A must mention one was ‘sports’- where I was robbed of my saree and weapons and decked up in Adidas gym-wear instead; even Lakshmi and Saraswati were handed over tennis rackets. Gosh! It was a huge embarrassment. Sometimes the theme is ‘Peace-aka-Buddhist pagoda’; where my eye make-up is changed to resemble thematic idols and my weapons are taken down to be replaced by lotuses. Sometimes, I’m put underwater with plastic sharks and at times my attire is designed out of food grains…… what not a mother puts up with, to encourage her child’s creativity!
'The Akal Bodhan'- the untimely welcome, was started by my beloved son Ram, who had offered to part with his eyes if need be! The devotion has changed now, just like my rusty weapons losing their lethal sharpness over time. The ill treatment meted out to my daughters is now depicted right beside my idol- courtesy 'the theme' while I stand inert by her side. At times, I wonder if the event has turned into a movie- a few days of joy, laughter and fun which fades away as I leave.....
I was the embodiment of power; the might of a woman who dares ride a lion, to look above traditions and marry an outcast against the wishes of my family, to wield power to fight for the greater good....do my children remember my lessons? I have grown a million years old you see, my lion has lost its mane, my rusty weapons are cast away- to keep up with the 'thematic peace' which unfortunately doesn't exist in reality. I am losing that effect perhaps?
Not to be kept in the 'mud idol', not in a palace full of lights........to be kept alive in yours hearts; that is where I belong.