Pujo is...

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Often, I pride myself in not looking like a Bong. Or behaving like one. Seven years out of Kolkata, my love for Bengal is limited to cooking some authentic non-veg Bengali dishes over the weekend (more to make my hubby teach and appreciate Bengali cuisine), watching back-to-back Bengali movies while I am in Kolkata (and searching for Torrents while am not), reading up Bengali authors voraciously (this being my teenage love, more than anything else), visiting Oly, Flurys, and Peter Cat religiously every time I am in Kolkata (believe me when I say, I have never been to Kalighat temple all my life), and roaming (or loafing) around in the streets of Kolkata, around Maidan, at Metro stations, at Esplanade, and CCD hopping with friends.

Which made me logically argue with myself – so what if I am working during Pujo? So what if I am not in Kolkata? So what if I miss the first ‘sindoor khela’ of my life in Kolkata? So what if I have to listen to Park Street and Maddox Square crowds over phone? So what if I miss checking out the crowd with friends? So what if I know that my parents would silently wish I were there, but not say anything, because I am supposed to spend this (and all Pujos for the rest of my life) with the man I love? So what if I know my brother would still miss me buying him stomach-screwing foods? So what if I have to miss tip-toeing into the house at 3 in the morning, high? So what if I miss waking up to the sounds of dhaak? So what if I have to end my long time affair of sleeping with Pujo-barshiki?

This (apart from making me irritated) made me realize some facts about Pujo, as I essentially perceive it:

-          Pujo is togetherness. With the people you love, but cannot give enough time throughout the year, thanks to your never ending desire of rising up the corporate ladder
-          Pujo is waking up to a clear blue autumn sky, admiring nature (and thanking the Creator) for its beauty
-          Pujo is hoarding up Pujo-barshikis…keeping them safe under your pillows to hide it from your cousins till you finish reading it
-          Pujo is about a passing glance, a fleeting smile, a warm ‘hello’, and a promising ‘good-bye’
-          Pujo is about good food, screwing up your stomach, yet not stopping, and believing in the miracles of Gelusil and Digene
-           Pujo is night-long addas, catching up with friends to share those jokes that you can’t share over phone, or checking out (and dis/approving) their boy/girlfriends
-          Pujo is that four days of unadulterated untiring fun to rejuvenate yourself for a year
-          Pujo is fighting over a chair in the para pandal, and having seat in ‘that’ corner, to watch the decked up crowd
-          Pujo is whistling at a guy and then looking innocent as his sister looks alarmingly (or approvingly) at your friend (who has to be a guy)
-          Pujo is that unknown pain in heart on Dashami morning (as you know you’ve a flight to catch next morning)
-          Pujo is about feeling someone throwing flowers at you and concentrating more on that (rather than God) while giving Anjali
-          Pujo is failing to wear a Saree and making the whole house go mad with your tantrums, till your cousin pleats it for you
-          Pujo is that flying kiss you throw at yourself after you complete your make-up

The list is long enough! But not exhaustive! But nevertheless, it makes me feel good. Because now I realize, I can bunk office for half-a-day to spend more time with hubby. I can order my sister for all the Pujo-barshikis of the world (and get them for free). I can still manage ‘sindoor khela’ bunking office. I can still throw tantrums at my hubby, knowing he will pamper me more these four days!

And I can always plan for next year. Be between-the-jobs if need be! FYI, Pujo starts from September 30 in 2014. Not even 365 days! See…

 Note: It's Pujo, not Puja...you half-Bengalis! ;-) :P

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