Jayeeta Majumdar Singhee

Tina’s article here reminded me of Pujo, and more importantly the article I promised to write for her dad-in-law and could not manage to pen, as usual….even after repeated reminders from uncle.

I hope to finish something for him soon….just hope it makes it to the magazine on time :-p. For now, some things about Pujo that make it as special as it is:

1. New Clothes – As kids, we got two each day. One for the morning and one for the evening. Our house used to smell of new clothes those five days…u know that “new fabric smell”. This smell even today summons childhood memories of laying out all new clothes before deciding what exactly to wear, and of course see to it that Simi and I never wear the same stuff. We always had similar clothes….same print, same texture, different colors…so as we grew up, we saw to it that we wore it on different days.
2. Rehearsals from at-least two months in advance. For as long as I can commit to memory, I remember accompanying my mom for her rehearsals. As we grew up, Simi and I started having our own rehearsals. Music, Dance, Plays, you name it and we were part of it. Every evening, week after week. Month after month. Intense practice sessions followed by lunch/snack/dinner, depending on the time. There were times when we had rehearsals at home, and this always meant lots of people at home, lots of gaana bajana and tea/snacks, and of course Adda.
3. PNPC – Sorry, if you don’t know what this is….you can’t be counted as Bong! PNPC or Poro-Ninda-Poro-Chorcha (in other words, Gossip) is the best thing about Pujo. And its not as if only the pas and mas did this, I had my own group for this – friends whom I met only during pujo, but some of whom still remain my best buddies. We would just sit through the afternoons and evenings, with our legs-up on other chairs and gossip. About anything – boys, who’s dating whom, the stupid ones, smart ones….oh the list doesn’t end.
4. Khichudi and Chatni – Standing in the long queues and gorging on the yummiest bhog ever (khichudi, labra and chatni), and then hogging on all those sometimes-good-sometimes-terrible food at the various stalls in the night. We could actually just collect and go to any uncle or aunty and ask them to treat us to something. In fact I don’t ever remember my dad saying a No to any amount asked, even though we were always told not to ask for too much before leaving home.
5. As I grew older, Pujo meant a few more things. Waiting for Sanjay to come and visit on the sly while we were dating – being one of the most important. Well, cant even define the excitement I felt just to see him then….I think the fact that it was sooo opposed made it more thrilling. Of course, one needs to mention that my CBI mom, more often than not, always found out. She still has the knack….just has nothing much to do anymore. We are now married, and a highly boring couple.

Clarification (for Baba and Ma J): Sanjay was not really a regular at the Pujo, he came visiting only at times.

As an adult, Pujo has taken on a whole new meaning. It means, making my “obangali” hubby understand the magic of pujo - the sentiment, the tradition, the joy of celebrating with friends closer at times than your own family and the delight of just standing in the pandal doing nothing but gossip, watch and eat. It means judging the competitions that you once participated in.

It also means taking Ishaan (my soon-to-be-three son) to the Pujo everyday, buying new clothes for him, making him participate in Fancy Dress, teaching him a “Kobita” for the competition (thanks to my mom) and letting him do all the fun things that we as children never missed out on. Basically, re-living my childhood with him and help him enjoy all things Bengali, thanks to his bong maternal side.

P.S: Ishaan also enjoys the other big festival of India, Ganesh Chaturthi with his father’s big joint family every year. I have actually discovered the joys of a joint family here. I think that needs another blog post.