“O, Jayanti, Mangala, Kali, Bhadrakali, Kapalini, Durga, Shiva, Khama, Dhatri, Swaha, Shwadha, my earnest dedication to you all. Ma Durga, salutation to thee!”
At the conclusion of each mantra, pushpa, flowers were offered at the Goddess’ feet.
Shanti just loved the overall feel and smell of Durga Pujo, replete with the incense of Dhoop-dhuno, flowers, folks adorned in new clothes and jewellery and the heavenly rhythm of the dhak.
Having offered pushpanjali, Shanti ate the prasad being distributed with great relish. He then slowly limped down the stairs onto the road where food stalls and makeshift cafes were vying with each other to attract the Pujo visitors with snacks. Shanti had fasted since morning to offer his anjali and now looked forward to having his customary Mughlai paratha, peas ghoogni and a soft drink.
Food stalls at Kali Bari Durga Puja pandal at Mandir Marg in New Delhi on October 05, 2019. (Photo by Qamar Sibtain/India Today Group/Getty Images)
That evening Bina’s condition worsened. It was almost as if she had been waiting for this day.
Snippet: Durga puja at New Delhi Kalibari started in 1925. mainly by the Indian Babus who had relocated from Kolkata to Delhi with the British administartion. Kali Bari continues to follow the traditional ekchalar thakur and sholar kaaj.
The Kali Bari Durga Puja features in the story, ‘Ashtami’, part of my forthcoming book ‘The Chronicler of the Hooghly and other stories’. Should you wish to receive exclusive previews and the chance of winning a free copy of the book, do write to me @ author.esgee@gmail.com
Reaching the cremation ghat at Keoratola, Dipen and his accompanying group were confronted first hand with the immense tragedy and the pain arising from the pandemic tearing through the city and the province. Dead bodies were lying in every conceivable place; on bullock carts, on both sides of the narrow pathway going to the burning ghats and under makeshift canopies. In some cases, there were people around the dead bodies but in other cases, it seemed the bodies had been left there and abandoned. There were hordes of dirty, soot covered urchins accosting groups who had come to do the cremation. The oppressive smoke and the odour of burning pyres were all pervasive. Jostling for supremacy with the putrid smoke and smell was a cacophony of crying, moaning, shouting and Vedic chants.
Keoratola cremation ground features in the story Pandemic, a part of my forthcoming book, ‘The Chronicler of the Hooghly and other stories ’. Should you wish to receive exclusive previews and the chance of winning a free copy of the book, do write to me at: author.esgee@gmail.com
‘Getting into Madinat Qaboos, Anjan drove to the Al Madina Plaza, where Pavo Real was located.
As they reached their assigned table, the waiter pulled out the chair for Jaya to sit. He placed a bottle of mineral water and asked what drinks they would prefer.
“Two large Margaritas please with a plate of tacos and chicken enchiladas”, said Anjan. Pavo Real was a favourite of Jaya and Anjan knew what she liked.
The margarita is a cocktail consisting of tequila mixed with orange-flavoured liqueur and lime or lemon juice, often served with salt on the glass rim.
After the waiter had gone. Anjan pulled out the birthday gift and handed it over to his wife. Jaya opened the gift box and gave a squeal of delight when she saw the pendant set.’
Pavo Real, also known as “the Mexican”, is an exclusive restaurant in the up-market neighbourhood of Madinat Qaboos in Muscat, Sultanate of Oman. Commencing operations in 1993, it offers special evenings with changing themes, great food, music and Margaritas !
Pavo Real features in the story Fault Lines, a part of my forthcoming book, ‘The Chronicler of the Hooghly and other stories ’. Should you wish to receive exclusive previews and the chance of winning a free copy of the book, do write to me @ author.esgee@gmail.com
A spear came whizzing out of the trees and pierced the ground barely ten feet from the palanquin. The shaft vibrated giving out an ominous hum. Almost in unison the tree branches and leaves started to rustle all around. It sounded like an army getting ready to strike.
“Alert! Hold!”, ordered the captain to his men as the guards immediately formed a protective circle and cocked their guns. They peered into the trees to try and spot the hidden enemy, knowing that hidden eyes were watching their every move.
The palanquin curtain drew open and out stepped Rani Rashmoni………..
Rani Rashmoni (1793—1861) was the founder of the Dakshineswar Kali Temple, Kolkata. A Low caste Hindu by birth but exceptionally beautiful, she was married to Babu Rajachandra Das (Marh) of Janbazar, Kolkata, a member of a wealthy zamindar family, when she was eleven years old. After her husband’s death she took charge of the zamindari and finances.
Rani Rashmoni features in the story ‘The Chronicler of the Hooghly’, part of my forthcoming book of the same name. Should you wish to receive exclusive previews and free copy of the book, do write to me @ author.esgee@gmail.com.
As Anjan put on the kettle switch, the power light came on. A few moments elapsed and then hearing a slight crackling sound Anjan turned. He saw a snake-like bluish flame moving from the electric point and spreading across the floor. As Anjan bent down to shut off the switch, he saw the blue serpent moving into the drain. For a moment time stood still and then, almost as if in slow motion, Anjan saw fault lines appear on the ceiling and the walls before they splintered. Then as he watched, the blue serpent coiled out accompanied by an earth-shaking explosion sound. Anjan was picked up and thrown against the debris like a ragged doll.
The above is from ‘Fault Lines’, part of my forthcoming book ‘The Chronicler of the Hooghly and other stories’. Should you wish to receive exclusive previews and the chance of winning a free copy of the book, do write to me @ author.esgee@gmail.com
“You may call me Elokeshi”, said the woman with the black tresses and the mysterious smiling eyes. “Yes, we have met, in a way. During the festival of Maha Shivaratri last year, I had seen you accompanying Boudi when she had gone to offer milk to the Shiva linga. You held her when she climbed up”.
Dipen remembered the festival though could not recall seeing Elokeshi.
The Rakta Kamaleshwar and Krishna Chandreswar Shiva temples had been built by Raja JayaNarayan Ghoshal, nephew of Gokul Ghoshal, almost a hundred and fifty years earlier. The twin temples housed the world’s two largest Shiva Linga because of which the estate came to be known as Bhukailash, in deference to Lord Shiva’s heavenly abode Kailash.
Rakta Kamaleshwar and Krishna Chandreswar feature in the story Pandemic, a part of my forthcoming book, ‘The Chronicler of the Hooghly and other stories ’. Should you wish to receive exclusive previews and the chance of winning a free copy of the book, do write to me @ author.esgee@gmail.com
An exciting news for all ‘The Chronicler of the Hooghly’ fans.
Time to win three to five book copies free.
Read the following line from the book
“What could be behind you taking this trip today and me telling you this tale?” asks the Chronicler.
Now allow your creative imagination to think of a word, a phrase or a line which resonates with the above, for you. It need not have any relevance to the book.
Send the above to me by replying on this forum or through email to : author.esgee@gmail.com
Share this post to your friends and groups.
Last date of entry 30th September 2020.
Winners would be announced after the contest ends.
Once when the emperor was going through Chandni Chowk, my predecessor offered sweets to the royal entourage as well as to the Emperor’s elephant”, said the shop keeper.
“And what did the elephant do?”, asked the children in unison.
“Oh! It was a very intelligent elephant and he liked our sweets very much. So after that day, every time the royal procession would come this way, the elephant would stop in front of our shop, shake its head and refuse to move on till it was offered sweets. The bells hanging from its neck would keep on ringing till it finished the sweets. This is how we got our name”.
Did you know that the Ghantewala Halwai, iconic sweet shop in Chandni Chowk, Delhi: Set up in 1790 AD, it is arguably the oldest running sweet shop in Inda. It has catered to Mughal Emperors, Presidents and Prime Ministers….
Ghantewala Halwai features in the story, ‘Ashtami’ , part of my forthcoming book ‘ The Chronicler of the Hooghly and other stories’. Should you wish to receive exclusive previews and the chance of winning a free copy of the book, do write to me @ author.esgee@gmail.com
A New Beginning 