Sunday, October 14, 2007

Monkharap...


With Puja coming in 3 days and me being an usual, mushy, ordinary Bengali, I can't help but feel mellow; and wonder whether I'm slave to ceremonial exhibitionism? or is it natural? (which again makes me think....is there anything natural? But no, I'll leave my idle philosophical speculation aside, stop being judgemental on myself and others and just take things in their face value.)

Even though it's getting quite chilly at night (sub zero) and I've to groan and partially close my window while sleeping, I can feel the crisp breeze back home.

And wish I was home; wish I could be at those times when my anger, my happiness, my dreams, my laughter, my tears, my angst.....all centered around Ma, Baba and my brother.

This would be my second year in Canada and in this goddamned place called Calgary where I wouldn't (or rather couldn't) attend a Puja. Not that it totally provides a balmy experience in attending a phoren puja, but well....admit it...you don't feel your life is so full of shit.

No, not that it matters to anybody if I don't go and meet grandfatherly Dada's and self-important and amusingly jealous Boudi-s.....but it does matter a lot to me when I'm not being able to conceal the tears in dhuno'r dhoa and stare through a blur;

when I'm not being able to meet friends and family;

when I've to eat the same old mundane food like 800 other days;

when I'm unable to be anything other than cranky;

when I'm unable to stare at the face above across many heads, amidst habitual assumption, amongst privileged situations.

5 comments:

prodip said...

Why are you so upset? Take it easy.

I missed it twice over the last six years. Once I did intentionally, to get the feelings of missing it. It was in Edmonton. Second time, it was not completely intentionally. It was last year in Waterloo. I was too reluctant to go Toronto during Puja. While decided to go, it was too late to catch a bus and return back on the same day. Though I was invited by a Dada to stay with them, still it was another hassle to live with a family where you don't feel so comfortable. I stayed with them several times, but most of the cases it was not under my control. This time I had decided not to bother them, so I missed it. I did not feel so terrible like first time. This year, though I'm in Vancouver, I still don't know whether I will go. Now it does not excite me that much. I just think there are so many people around us who don't even have the opportunity to attend, so why I've to be so upset of missing it. It might look bit weird still I take it easy coz everyday we are changing, so why can't I accommodate one more change in my life. If I can attend Puja that would be great and if I miss it would not change my life from one to zero.

idle-labour said...

@Prodip

Good for you :-)

Anonymous said...

Koyel, I knew there was going to be a post over here, what with the Pujos and everything, and you haven't disappointed me.
I say, I don't know about you - but for me there's this completely unrelated, imaginary nostalgia and I know that's what it is. That still doesn't stop me from feeling wistful, melancholic, and as you put it in - 'mellow' inside. Yet I know so well that I wouldn't have done much during the pujos if I had been in Kolkata. the madness, the crowds, and the hollagollla would've gotten me cranky and annoyed and left me indifferent. Although, pujo when I was in Durgapur was a different affair...yet - I wouldn't want to travel back in time. That was then. This is now.
Some days ago - I could smell Pujo in the breeze...now that's gone, I can hear the dhaak-dhol and mantros in my head (!)...but I know that my missing isn't related to anything real or anything that I've really experienced during the Pujos...it really is an odd or possibly not so odd sentimentality!
And trust me - from what folks tell me there has been no 'crisp' breeze for a while now...I don't remember the crisp breeze in reality unless I go back a decade!
And the other thing: do you REALLY wish that you could be transported into a point of time when ALL your dreams and angst were centred around your parents and your brother?...Be careful what you wish for, dearie...
Ah well...I'll get going. Don't get too despondent. At least try not to. Happy Pujo....Take care.
Shilpi di

idle-labour said...

@Shilpidi,

I know what you mean but even then I don't know I'm prey to what: the imaginary nostalgia of being surrounded by a familiar cushion, or the present situation of getting out of mundane and grey present.

Whatever it is, there's a Durga Puja to be held in Calgary and I'm not going there; because I'll end up being angry and immensely irritated in the 'phoren' version of what I want and crave for.
Even when I was in Calcutta, the last one year I did not go out much, in lieu of friends, husband and brother.

Bottomline? you are right....I'm craving for what was, once upon a time and an imaginary nostalgia...without realising that it is imaginary.

I feel like a refugee. I am. Truly.

Hatturi Hanzo said...

Mind is where your heart is.

Hnu hnu bawa! Words of wisdom.

ekTa aasto jeebonke pechhone fele bose achhi porobaas-e. sekhane pujoTa to ekTa onusthhan matro. saadhe ki KeshTo Mukherjee bole gechhen "banglay fire eso bawa!".

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