।। ত্রিতাপহারিণী ২০২০।। T3 শারদ সংখ্যায় Rubia Chatterjee

It was September, 2018, a very usual day in my life with lots of anxiety and frustration. I was away from home for the longest period of time, I was tired and exhausted. For the first time ever, I thought that I won’t be able to make it to the Pujo’s this year, it was extremely distressing for me. The constant messages from my friends, “Ki re, Pujoi Durgapur firchis to? made things even worse. My father constantly sending me pictures and updates of our BarirPujo was an addition to my agony and was even scarier for me at that very point of time. I was left with no more optimism until when my college decided to give us a vacation for ten days. I was on cloud nine, the happiest person alive, with wet eyes and a tone full of excitement I called my mother and told her “Maa bari firche”, the relief in her voice made it clear that she was wishing for this .This was time when I understood that nothing can ever replace the love and longing for one’s roots. I had my tickets booked for a day before Mahalaya, I could not thank my stars enough for making this possible. I wanted to run away, I could not wait even for a minute, I barely packed any of my belongings, with every passing days, minutes and seconds I felt I was one step nearer to my home, to my parents, to a place where everybody is waiting for me. On the day of departure, I was numb, thrilled and extremely emotional as I could not even imagine this was happening in real. Literally I could hear the beats of the Dhak in my mind, I could visualize everything in front of me: the idol, the servings, the priest, the chariot. The moment my flight landed in Kolkata I was overjoyed , trying to rush through the crowd, get my luggage and rush home as soon as possible. There was basically no amount of patience left within me at that moment. As I made my way to the exit I saw my car standing at a distance, felt like running towards it and hugging it tight, my father waving from inside the car, my emotions were ineffable. It has been four months after which I landed in my own
state, I saw my father in real after so long. The feeling and thought of returning back to my mother was extraordinary and rejuvenating. The clear blue skies, with traces of cirrus clouds of Shorot created an atmosphere of Pujo all around the city, it filled my heart with joy and peace. The city was beautifully decked up with vibrancy and enthusiasm, pujo pandals were almost ready, both the sides of the roads were filled with frequent patches of KashFul, the state seemed to be excitedly gearing up for the arrival of Durga. I could smell the sweet fragrance of the night jasmine, the essence of Pujo was all around. With every passing kilometers my patience to wait was decreasing, I was nervous and restless. Then came the moment which I was waiting for since days, I returned back home, to my shelter, to a place that is extremely dear to me, as our car entered the narrow lane of our house, I saw my mother standing near our house, waiting for me. For the very first time I was happy to be where I belong, my roots, my identity. I realized that day wherever I go, whatever I do, but at the end of the day I will return to the place which belongs to me and to where I belong.