A Divine Symphony…

This was the unmistakable smell of Saratkal.  Lying on his hospital bed, eyes closed, Tutul could almost smell the Agomoni of Ma Durga in the air. The familiar voice of Birendra Krishna Bhadra boomed through the radio set which the night nurse slipped into Tutul’s room. Of course he had to promise her to keep the volume as low as possible so as not to wake the other patients on the floor. And if the ward-in-charge came to know of this, that would be the end of those chocolate bars or the ten minutes extra visiting time which Tutul gets almost everyday as a gift for being good.

Mahalaya to Tutul, was like an untamed river during high tide, waiting in bated breath for the gates to his unbridled happiness to burst open and flow wild. Like a wild flower finding the comfort of firm soil to spread her riotous colours everywhere, Mahalaya to Tutul was that “waiting to riot in happiness” time. His senses lay suspended in the smell of Pujo…in the beat of dhaak and kashor ghonta, the soulful shaankh, in the fragrance of dhup, the sudden cacophony of laughter, the non-stop chatter of people, the recital of mantra by Purohit Jethu, the blaring of popular songs. Durga Pujo to Tutul, was nothing short of a divine symphony created by Maa Durga Herself. 

Puja heralded a lift in curfew on all those mundane do’s and don’ts. Tutul was allowed to play all day long and stay out with his friends. The Puja mandap in his neighbourhood…para…took the form of one big family coming together under one roof for those magical days…Ma, Baba, Kaku Kakima, Didi Dada, Dadu and Didan of all houses were shared and were his as much as they were his friends’! The amount of pampering showered on him knew no bounds and importantly brushed aside even Ma’s chidings. The nonstop adda, the singing and dancing, the chaos and cacophony and the finger-licking food…Pujo was a blessing every good human being on planet earth deserves, Tutul had once written in his school essay!

The Dhaaki at times would call over all the children to dance to the beat of his dhaak. Oh, this was so much fun. Tutul would join the rest in this madness…the best part was when heads-banging and feet-trampling on others would invite squeals of laughter from the children and adults alike. Before long, the much awaited bhog would be served on Kolapata. The fresh smell of the kolapata would transpose Tutul to his Ranna Mashi’s village which he had once visited with Ma. Kolapata always reminded him of the rain-washed farms in Mashi’s hometown. Perhaps it was the fresh smell of the leaf, perhaps it was Tutul’s deep connect with the soil and all senses…

This Puja was special, a special gift promised to him by Ma Baba. A whole tantalising week had now passed since Mahalaya. Tutul had been wheeled in and out of the Operation Theatre thrice in fifteen days. He couldn’t have cared less, what with the smell of Durga Puja in the air and the promise of his surprise gift! Those little hours he was not drowsy from drugs, Tutul would be content to lie in bed and pick on the sounds of Puja. Today was Maha Shashthi and he would be discharged. Tutul was restless all day. All his friends must already be in the mandap, scourging on the prasad and sweets. Oh, this was too much excitement…only a few hours left to join them…

While Calcutta immersed herself headlong in Puja frenzy, all activity surrounding the small mandap in Tutul’s neighbourhood was on hold. The air was filled with suppressed emotions and the same unspoken question hung over them like cloud in an overcast sky. Like a lull before a storm, all waited with bated breath for the little boy of seven, the apple of their eyes, to arrive at the mandap. Seconds seemed like hours. The mandap cocooned itself in complete silence against a backdrop of high decibel celebrations the city of Calcutta had immersed herself in. Even Ma Durga was lying in wait…

And then the moment they had been waiting for arrived. Little Tutul, with a pair of dark glasses on, walked into the mandap, holding his parents’ hands. The crowd dispersed to let him pass – he was led right in front of Ma Durga. And then, with the first beat of the dhaak, Ma removed his dark glasses and Tutul opened his eyes to the splash of colours and beauty of sight for the first time in his seven year life. Ma Durga’s eyes absorbed him with all Her power and benevolence. Tutul stared in awe and wonder at the Devi’s face. The world had just unfolded herself to Tutul. Sounds and smells which had befriended him since his birth now had a shape, a form, a colour. Giddy with a feeling quite alien to him, he looked around in wonder at people who love him. Like a bottled up cracker ready to let go of itself, the crowd burst into tears of joy and laughter. This was the gift Tutul had been waiting for. The dhaki beat his dhaak and heralded the Agamoni of Ma Durga.