Shoshti: First Day of Pujo.

Today was the first day of Pujo, and after four years, I experienced the excitement that I'd always taken for granted. This evening, Anuma put alta on my feet; it took me back to being in the 4th std, and getting in trouble at school for having red embellishment on my feet. How did they find out? Well, we had to take our shoes off for Yoga period, and my socks had not-so-mysteriously turned pink.

Of course, getting dressed up is a lot more fun than the actual outing itself. I draped my sari all by myself for the first time ever, and I did a pretty decent job. Ma and I took a bunch of pictures - and will continue to do so the next few days - to document the four days of sari-wearing and goddessless revelry.

Walking into the Patwardhan Park pandal felt like walking into my past. Four years suddenly felt like a four-second long eternity, if that makes any sense. It all felt so familiar, but unlike previous years, neither Mama or I knew anyone. There was voluble Bengali chatter coming from all directions, but it felt like a foreign language to me. Where are all the Bandra Bengalis; the stalwarts of old Bollywood and their large families? The mashies with their flabby arms and peeking bra hooks? The kurta-clad kakas who pull your cheeks? And Dear God, where are the children? What is Pujo without candy floss and misbehaved balloons anyway?

(The answer to that question is "travesty")

On the other hand, there was so much that was still the same - the delightfully bad plays, the ladies with too much talcum powder on their faces, the announcements that say, "Mr. Banerjee! Where you are!?"

I intend to take pictures of the Protima and the shidur khala over the next three days. Stay tuned. This is only Round One.

(Pssst...Happy Birthday, John Lennon. I love you.)