Tag: Mahalaya

MAHALAYA — The Call of Ma


The first light of the morning came and sat on the window grille, hesitated, then leapt in. Like an old song, tired and familiar, trying to be remembered.

Rudra Bose sat by the window, a cup of tea steaming beside him. The cup was chipped, the saucer mismatched, the tea, a stubborn blend of milk, tea dust, and habit.

Outside, the lane yawned into a waking slumber, its air thick with last night’s incense, stale samosa oil, and the ever-present, low-grade emissions.

“Ma is coming,” he had heard someone shout on the street last evening……

Durga Pujo. Once, it had been magic.

As a boy, he had spent mornings watching Mashis, aunts and Boudis, sisters-in-law, threading marigolds for the Pandal and Thakurer Bedi.

— An excerpt from The Last Writer of Kolkata and Other Stories

What does Durga Pujo mean to you?

Is it the Goddess, the neighbourhood, the people we grew up with—or a Kolkata that lives on in our memories, even as the city changes around us?

This Mahalaya, I invite you to step into Rudra Bose’s world: a future Kolkata where technology has transformed the city, but the longing for what has been lost remains deeply human.

📖 Discover the Last Writer of Kolkata and Other Stories: https://www.amazon.in/dp/9376313402 ( India) , https://www.amazon.com/dp/ B0GYX13WF1 (US)

Some stories imagine the future. Others help us remember what we must not lose.

In musing….. Shakti Ghosal

Mahalaya


It was a few days back.

Just before five in the morning. I put on the FM channel and the so very familiar words wafted around the room, quickly overpowering the low hum of the air conditioner sound.

That ethereal sound of the conch shell interspersed with the chorus.

Ayi Giri-Nandini Nandita-Medini Vishva-Vinodini Nandi-Nute
Giri-Vara-Vindhya-Shiro-[A]dhi-Nivaasini Vissnnu-Vilaasini Jissnnu-Nute

(Salutations to You O Divine Mother, I Invoke You; Who is the daughter of the Mountain; By Whose presence the whole World is filled with Joy; For Whom the whole World is a Divine Play and Who is Praised by Nandi,
I Invoke You O Devi Who Dwell on the Summit of the Vindhyas, the Best of the Mountains; Who give Joy to Lord Vishnu as His sister ….)

That once a year rendition in the voice of Biren Krishna Bhadra.

Aswiner sarada prate beje utheche alokomonjir,

Dharanir bohirakashi ontorhito meghomala

(In the month of Aswin, amidst the meanderings of autumn, resounds the light of the sun like anklets

As the clouds disappear from the skies above the world)

Listening to that Chandi path chants and the music in a half asleep, half wakeful state, has always been an intensely personal and endearing experience since my childhood.

I recall my father putting on the All India Radio station at dawn all those decades back, as we all huddled back under the blankets to sleep-awake through Mahishasur Mardini during those wonderful autumn laced mornings with that slight nip in the air. I have tried to continue that tradition.

This year as I lay on my bed listening to Mahishasur Mardini, I saw in my mind’s eye folks who had been part of me since childhood. My father, my father-in-law, other family members, friends. They were standing in two rows and smiling at me. I could sense the love and the warmth seep towards me through the smiles. I luxuriated in the enveloping feeling and closed my eyes. I woke up to find that it was but a dream. Al those who I saw looking and smiling at me were no longer part of my life today, having left for their heavenly abode.

Mahalaya is the day of making offerings to our departed forefathers. According to the Puranas, our patriarchal generations come closer to the living world at this time and this is when they need to be remembered and thanked in our prayers.

Did my dream have anything to do about my remembrance of all the departed souls and them reciprocating back?

In musing……

Shakti Ghosal