Come September and the puja occasion begins
And the Saccharum spontaneum issues symbol
In mind, in Nature, in leaves, in blood, in body
Ushers in the advent of the bigger festival
Transreligious festivity; all take part at ease
The somber drudgery at household weighs high
For the yearlong wait with the deeper expectation
In between seasonal cycles rotate diurnally
Summer dusts our lives with muds in a tiring
Rain cleans the stains the summer afflicts
Embalmed we heavily; our beginning starts
Seems palpable on every corner of nature
Gutters its wick of gaiety people wait for
The professionals with bated breath crave for
With it, many feeds on earnings centres on
All rung of people, all strata, wake up, anew
New feel they wear; with it, new robes –
Heavy atmosphere gives in festive mien
Autumn wafts off the odour of Comus
On grass, dews gather dry all founts
Sweat absorbing season crawls in,
Mind blows with an air of exhilaration
Big festival! Durga Pooja! Huge joy!
Ah! Where does the smell new dress exude?
Would fool around tailor’s shop as a rule
We would keep watching, from afar –
The gurgling sound of water in a village mud canal
Felt hypnotic; mind would dance as water reels off
Rain tails off; fall slowly descends on earth
Mud smell would inebriate our excited minds
Vicenarian to nonagenarian!
Would fix their sitting place; glued to puja altar
Tempts all without distinction!
Many a heart rejoices at its presence
Deplore the absence and get outraged!
Pastures remain bleached for a three days’ wonder
Green grows, silent with clear hills beckon, afar
Sacred pleasure fills all hearts, bind together!
Soothes eyes on gaze at brooks,
The hugged people stand in awe and wonder
No ages barred; each other’s warmth dissolves
Differences of hues inflicted on mankind
From time immemorial!