Probasher Kashful .PROBASHIR Kashful  The day I married an Army man and left my city Kolkata to travel the vast length and breadth of this country I attached a tag with my name, Probashi. As a true probashi I speak languages other than my mother tongue, I celebrate Onam to Ganesh Chaturthi with equal fervor , I can dance on Baisakhi and sing a Christmas carol in chorus. But what my heart aches for, my eyes become misty, is when I have to live away from my city Kolkata during Durga pujo. Therefore I use a cliche ,you can take a Bengali out of Bengal but you cannot take Bengal out of a Bengali. Durga pujo and Bengali are as synonymous as roshogolla is to Kolkata .  The October blue sky with snow white cirrus cloud floating around aimlessly , luxuriously, spells pujo time. The Kashful swaying happily in the back drop of green fields, spells pujo time. The sweet fragrance of shiuli spells pujo time. Where ever in the country I have been, my thirsty eyes have always waited for these special symbolic announcement of the joyous period approaching. Why we rejoice with this opulent sense of well being in the anticipation of those five big days is not very specific. Perhaps our psyche is filled with a sense of renewal, a fresh lease of life, a hope for a new beginning. All celebrations , social or religious have this common thread of bond which gives the human race energy, power, goodwill and brotherhood to face life. Living life after all is quite an uphill task ! Therefore we embrace these few days of festivity with open arms.  During this time of the year Nau Ratra is celebrated in the northern states of India. The Devi is worshipped for nine days ;people fast or in the least turn vegetarian for this duration. The deity Hindus worship are the same but their form differs. Bengal’s Durga is dashabhuja riding a lion killing the Asura( representation of evil). The North Indians worship the Ambe Ma , charbhuja and riding a tiger. But the religious sentiments to appease the Goddess, the nari shakti would be essentially the same. But there is a big difference in all this, it is the ‘Pet Puja ‘ ; which we Bengali people indulge in shamelessly all through the five days of celebration. To wash away sins, or to detoxify the body, no way can you convince a Bengali to give up on gastronomical indulgence .    Every Bengali fasts till  he/ she has offered Anjali to the Goddess. We love dressing up in  new ,crisp, cotton sarees, pajama and Kurtas. Our children wear a freshly laundered starched look, in colourful new clothes. We seriously feel all our sins getting washed away as we stand flower in hand chanting …”Ya Devi sharbabhuteshu Shakti Rupeno Sangsthita….”. The puja pandals on those mornings vibrate with humble submission and offerings of the mere mortal on the feet of the omnipotent power of Ma Durga.  I have missed being part of such beautiful pujo days for many years. Though the Kashful swayed and tickled all my emotions with everything beautiful, everything pious, but I missed seeing a Protima many a years. Then again in big cities like Mumbai I have seen the glamour of Durga Pujo festivities. The Pujo pandals are more famous by the names of film world celebrities . Crowds throng to see glamour and goddess together ! During sandhya arti  the dhaki playing their drum and celebrities dancing to the beat is a spectacle which enthralls all pandal visitors. Certain things remain common, the awe striking, competitive, light dazzling pandals. The beauty of which many a times surpasses human imagination. Queued up visitors waiting to enter this wonder land often forget the purpose of their visit, the Deity ! Yet, braving the crowd, touching the bottom line of patience and physical stamina , people do come out of their homes in hundreds and thousands. After all they have come to see the Goddess of Shakti. People bustling around the pandals, eating, laughing rejoicing have the ultimate counterpoint just a few feet away, Ma Durga ,standing in total silence. The silence that shall reach our core long after all the noise outside and within have died down.  Coming back home this year to my city Kolkata ,the probashi me is swaying in joy. The longings of all these years safely treasured for this special occasion is surfacing. I can already hear the Mahalaya chants in my mind, “Jago Durga, Jago Dashoprohareno Dharini, Tumi Jago….”.  Another day, another flight may take me away from home ; but not before I have filled my heart to its brim with the joyous song of, “Bajlo tomar aalor benu, maatlo re bhuban …”.