the post pujo post

like each year,this year, too, the pujos went past in a blink of an eye...it's kind of crazy how we wait with baited breath for these 5 days and they just zoom past like a spoilt brat who has just laid his hands on his dad's car!
the other day,we were discussing which day of the pujos we love the best...i said "shoptomi" because that's the day when everyone is filled up with joy at the onset of the pujos.ashtami becomes too hectic with anjali and family meals and there hasn't been one nobomi when i haven't felt down.
also this puja,i realised i am getting more and more claustrophobic and just the thought of standing amongst crowds,gives me jitters.the only trip i made to maddox this year was in the morning and i couldnt be happier.each time i drove past that place,i saw the crowd and exclaimed how it was getting worse with each year.even when we all started dancing last evening before the bhashan,i found it difficult to stand amidst the damp smell of dhuno,sweat and alcohol.
but if there's something i love about the pujos,it's the dhunuchi naach...i think words like "beautiful" were invented for things like this.the way the sublime smoke rises from that little clay vessel-painting fluid shapes across the night sky...and the way the dancer twirls around the vessel without dropping the coir inside,is nothing short of an art.i also love the sound of dhaak...way more than the "tasha" that plays during the bhashan.
i can just go on...but i guess it's best to keep some memories to yourself-the old friends' lunch,the 5 star lunch,the nagordolna ride...
sigh,all i can hope is "aashche bochhor abaar hobe!"
and before i forget,shubho bijoya to all of you .

i remember when i was much younger,i used to keep a diary-minute details of everything i did,went into it.
the first time i waxed,i wrote something describing the excruciating pain.
and when i got my cartilage pierced last saturday,i was reminded of that long forgotten entry and suddenly began to miss my diary...
the diary,like many other things,has been a part of the childhood i have grown out of.
it's almost been like a cloak which i happened to slip off when no one was noticing.
each time i'm reminded of some old memory..it's like finding some thread,of that old cloak,that was left behind.
when i was talking to a school friend a few days back and planning a visit to maddox,i remembered how i refused to leave the golf green pandal,as a kid when any world beyond golf green refused to exist for me!
when you find these threads,you almost begin to hope to sew back the old cloak and wear it again.
but then,we realise that maybe you could have the cloth back but the tailors have all gone far away-way beyond any distance our calls can reach.
we realise that,maybe,growing up isnt that great a deal after all.

p.s:this is a very impulsive post...the language isnt at its best usage.sorry!