Its all over. With the dhakis playing their dhaks on their way back to their villages, with the decorators dismantling the gigantic pandals, with the idols floating back to their unknown destination in the Ganges, yet another Durga Puja had come to an end. I remember the first time I went to see the visarjan with my father. When we returned from the immersion ghat, and were headed towards home to start the celebrations of bijaya, we were passing across the para pandal when I noticed a single lamp burning on the dais, the same place where ma durga ruled with her children for the past four days. Ironically, the solitary lamp seemed to be the only entity valid in a place which would hardly have any room to even stand few hours ago. Noticing that, not many bengalis can hold back their tears.
This would happen year after year. This year, I was so busy with my engagements, I hardly had any time to realize it was autumn again. Even after returning home for the festival, I did not seem to feel the charm, the magic, the festive fever. It was as if, "oh ok! yet another Pujo, big deal!". Even during those four days, I went out visiting the pandals with my cousins just for the sake of it. I did enjoy the vacation and rest and everything, but hardly felt anything special. And before I knew, it was dashami again. This time also, we went to the immersion ghat. And then again, while returning, I happened to come across the solitary lamp again! And yet again, I felt a pang of grief. But this time I was hardly involved in the whole thing, at least emotionally. But perhaps, it was my roots, my origin that denied to be left out! It was a different feeling altogether. I was cautious not to let a tear roll down my cheeks, for then people might make fun of me!
Its hard to be an introvert and be emotional!
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