The Homecoming
It was Durga Puja time at Calcutta, and the music was blaring out loud- one of those gaudy songs with inexplicable words that had become the rage of the season. It didn’t matter whether the words were in Hindi or Bengali- it was equally irritatingly loud and blasé’. Sample: “ Tomar mukhta ki shundor, aami bolboi bolbo .” (Your face is so beautiful, I will definitely say). It was incomprehensible how the Puja season could provide an excuse to irritate other peoples’ senses with an arbitrary choice of loud music, no doubt on the insistence of some overenthusiastic Para dadas (neighbourhood toughies). Quite unlike the other years, this time it had rained during the Pujas, thus effectively putting a dampener on the plans of quite a few people, effectively impeding Puja Pandal (shamiana) hopping. After the cursory visit to the local Pandal , one sat at home, chatting, reading newspapers, seeing television, whiling away time with hot cups of tea. There w...