FESTIVAL FRENZY

From August to October, it is considered to be the festival season here in India, and for me, the best part of the year.I am very careful to see, that I never make plans to go anywhere, at this time of the year,because I love the excitement,and totally chaotic conditions, at home,and outside,which is a natural outcome of this season.Pune has become a very crowded city,but at this time,there are lots of visitors from all over,who come to enjoy the festivities,and join their families,friends,and relatives, to really live it up.
For me, festivals arouse very nostalgic memories, and create the yearning, for lovely moments, which are ever fresh, but cannot be associated with modern times,and that is truly a pity.As far as I can remember, the coming of a festival could be felt months in advance, when my mother would sit down to decide, the kinds of dresses each child would wear, what sweets would be made, and which places were to be visited, to enjoy each festival. For Janmashtami, it was always the grand,gorgeous, Birla Mandir of Delhi,where the celebrations have to be seen, to be believed,and all visitors ,freely moved around the exquisite temple,to worship,sit around,or enjoy the various kinds of delicious food, available there.Their chaat was to die for,and thats where I would head for,as soon as I was allowed.But today,this temple is like a fortress,and constant vigilance, at every step, makes it a very claustrophobic experience. But there is no choice, the world today is a very different place, from what it was,in my childhood.
During Durga Pujo, we loved visiting various different pandals, wearing the pretty frocks specially tailor made for us,and the joy of that was enough. We were given a little pocket money, morning,and evening, to eat from the food stalls,and that was a great excitement for us children.
Although things are very different now, I still continue to be a very hard core pandalite, and love roaming around,from one pandal, to the other, meeting my friends,enjoying a cup of very sugary tea, small hot samosas, and the endless adda, that is second nature to us all,specially with me.The swish of new saris, and elegant,trendy dhoties,the latest in designer dresses, and the colours,smells, and hullabaloo associated with these pandals, is a feeling that has to be experienced,and savoured.and is a second nature with all Bengalis. But I love the whole package deal, will not miss it for anything,and inspite of the huge crowds, the jostling,and pushing on the streets,and frenzy at home, its the best time of the year,and my most favourite moments ever.

MEMORIES ARE MADE OF THIS

One of my sons will be celebrating his birthday tomorrow,and I too am spending all my time, going over the beautiful memories we share, between us. Does a mother ever stop being a mother?I don't think so,and I've always referred to myself as a professional mother,because mothering is the only thing I am good at,greatly enjoy, and find very fulfilling.A mother has this very uncanny ability, to always know, exactly what goes on , in the childs mind, and although my child, is over forty(sorry dear!), I still love to do little things for him,like cooking his favourite dish,and watching him enjoy it,or give him a little gift,that only I know will please him,etc.Its just a mother and son thing, instinctive,inborn,and indelible.

Unfortunately, in todays modern, and so-called smart,fast-paced world, many mothers have been tossed out of the son's life, and he has walked out, in search of his fortunes, and his mother has no place in his life..But even this fractured relationship, cannot separate a mother from her son,because she continues to love him through her tears,prays to God to look after him,and also for his success in life. That is the strength of the bond---its always there,and will continue to be the cushion, that is life's integral part.
My son Manna, was in a great hurry to enter the world,and did so, under very dramatic conditions. For ten days before his entry, I was unwell,and the night before, there was a terrific storm, while I continued to have strong pains. Going out was completely impossible,but he wasn't willing to wait. So, as soon as it was morning, I was rushed to the hospital,and before the doctor could even get ready to welcome him, he announced his arrival very loudly,very vocally.I knew then and there, that he would be a strong individual, and make his own decisions, though this one may have proved a big disaster, if we were even a fraction of an instant, late.He was very fair,very thin,but always smiled.

Our years together, have been very enjoyable,with a fair share of ups,and downs,we'ev fought very tough battles,and shared very soft,soothing,endearing moments. But through it all, our bond kept us going. I prayed for him to just go on his path,and be happy,and he also,tried to do his best for me. I've seen him handle all his problems with balance,self-control, and sensibility,and be a very caring,committed, extremely loving husband, father,and home-maker. Yes, thats right, usually women are referred to, as home makers, but Manna is a very good cook, and loves to experiment(I loved the delicious hot,mutton puffs he made for me,during my recent trip!)and also shares the housework. Since they live abroad, there is no house help,and sharing is imperative.He is also a doting father,and enjoys a wonderfully vibrant relationship with his lovely daughter.And most of all,is a very hilarious person!

Since I visit them regularly, I watch everything all the time,and store them in the data bank of my heart. And today, on his b'day, I pray to God, to grant him good health,mental peace,fulfillment,and help him to realise all his dreams. To give him the strength to keep moving,make the correct choices,and live his life with the values, ethics, and principles, instilled in him,by his parents,who loved him dearly. And now that his father is not around, I am playing the role of both, and watching him happy,and satisfied with himself,is the gift I'll always treasure. Happy b'day dear,may God always bless you!

MY RACE WITH LIFE

Hello all of you guyz,who visit my blog,read what I write,and cheer me on,though writing is something I love doing,and don't really need a push. But most people cannot even imagine the kind of life I live,specially when I am happily,and excitedly, preparing to step into my seventieth year.Yes, thats right,and at a time,when people are scared of crossing thirty, here I am,living life to the hilt,with lots of dreams,hopes,and aspirations to fulfill,and always working towards the next rung, on my ladder of personal achievements. I just keep moving towards the goals I set for myself,and continue to sing my own song,because,"A cuckoo sings,not because it has an audience,but because it has a song to sing!"And I have many songs to sing. I write my own words, tune it myself,and enjoy it too,thats how I travel in the journey of life.

This is the festival season, and my favourite Durga Pujo is just around the corner.All of us Bengalis,have very pleasant memories of pujo,and thats what makes it a great attraction to us.I remember in early childhood, I loved to wear the pretty frocks, my mother got tailored for me. There were new shoes, maybe a matching beaded necklace,and a little money, to eat at the food stalls,or buy a little toy,or trinket,from the balloonwallah, standing at the gate of the pandal.But all these brought so much pleasure to us,so much joy,that the thought of pujo, always brought on happy smiles,and till today,when I have four grandchildren,these days are very special to me,and I am always rearing to go to the pandals,and freak out.
However, with the passage of time,the simplicity has almost completely disappeared,and its more about flaunting monetary strength,and gettings things done. So now,designer saris and dresses are in vogue,mothers don't play any role in their selection.Men make it a point to go to well known boutiques in Kolkata, and wear the latest in haute couture.But the atmosphere of the pandals are more or less, the same,very vibrant, friendly,colourful,and crowded.
Believe it or not, even this year, I will be making a few hundred sweets,by public demand,and that is the crux of this piece.My days just fly past, hands are always full, and I have still not experienced boredom, which unfortunately, is the disease of most people,after the children leave for their chosen fields. But since I'm managing,I wish to keep going,although sometimes I yearn for a little break. But, God has other plans,and I have to go on. As Celine Dion has sung,"Climb every mountain,thats how my heart goes on!"