A bag of firecrackers..

It would all start with a fire cracker bursting out loud in the nooks and crannies of our 18th century house that we stayed in the Heart of Kolkata. We knew that the time is here. Autum is the most beautiful and musical season of all in Bengal ,the wait for durga puja the blue skies the floating white coulds and the small of shiuli( a flower) and the white kash flower drenched field can make one one into a singing minstrel . By this time of the year the wait for Pujo is over..its been that for past few weeks that most bengalies have been sad, our own beloved Uma has gone back to her abode in Himalay’s to Shiva to come back to us next year. But the taste of festivity is like some alluring drug always on your mind. The first burst of fire cracker does the trick. We know its now time to get ready for the last one of the year..kalipuja or deepavali.
I grew up in a very traditional Bengali house huge terrace big dark alleys and wide staircases..with my neighbors being from all over India we called our house mini India. I saw my neighbors gearing up their houses by scrapping the paints patching it here and there new curtains being put up new clothes being brought. What a great way to remind you of something we were doing for past few months and I always saved a special attire for this special day .
To me the most exciting thing were the stalls for firecrackers; most of the shops including my dad’s friends were changed into fire cracker stockpot and everyone in our ancestral home and people we knew far and beyond has been volunteering to sit and help in the sale every evening for past few weeks. the token of appreciation being a bag of Fire crackers..
The streets were now much more colorful and bright with more lights coming up as decoration and more pandals blocking the roads creating traffic jam..but the thrill of the whole wait and the ever grasping feeling of another festival knocking at my door is beyond explanation.
The day of diwali was preceded by kalipuja the worship of the goddess kali that drives away all evil ,in Kolkata and Bengal.. and firecrackers were everywhere…were restricted from going out in the streets specially in anything but Cotton.
The day of diwali everyone in our apartment complex was dressed up and whenever we stood by the balcony all we heard and said was happy diwali..during evening came time to exchange sweets between each other and to gather at the terrace for what: but to burst cracker together…
The smoke the noise although killing was somewhat mesmerizing in its own way. After a round of enjoyment at my house we usually went to our ancestral home few blocks away ,a house almost as old as Kolkata was had 30 families who were my relatives inhabiting together it was the most fun event. By now we have all had our own half empty treasure of firecrackers some that we had been collecting for past few weeks drying them in the sun (which apparently made them very potent to be lit) and some that came as gifts. I wonder how life would have been without this season of giving. There I had a plethora of cousins uncles aunts all of my age waiting with their treasure chests to burst crackers.
All the unique ones were brought forward and shared with everyone my mom and aunts on the mean time were getting goodies ready in case we needed a bite in between. While we were getting to enjoy at the terrace a very common drink was made at our homes Siddhi..I am not sure what they added to it but was made with cashew and pistachio paste I had it once in my life time during my masters and it is so intoxicating and makes you super hilarious and off course intoxicated.
The day used to be over with smoke all around the noise of fire crackers bursting in our ears far until midnight and the smell of fresh new paints and the taste of sweet in our mouth. It felt like we could live a zillion year in that one day and all the wait for it was worthwhile and we all got to live our childhoods once again.
Next day was not just another day but reminiscent of yesterday.
My first year here at Wesleyan was spent just traveling down memory lane, filled with fond memories of childhood and adolescent fun. Diwali came and went all I remember doing was cooking up a quick party inviting friends. For some it was just making a special dish that day and sharing it with everyone. My first Diwali here was desperately alone and without family and the citylights.
But past few years I re lived my ancestral home here filled with friends whom I call family touched by people who bring in firecrackers into my life.
I am sure like me many of us, who has come from India bringing in an extra luggage of memories feel the same. I traveled down memory lane last year going to bed with the similar satisfaction of bursting every single firecracker in my possession and having the most wonderful time with my neighbors friends and a houseful of families and the smell of great food and happiness all flocks back..and I sit and wonder
Countries are just man made lines what floats through beyond the realms of borders and generations is for real and what stays and still in aliquots touches our heart is what makes us human and we live our childhood through such events and remember its never time to stop being a child and enjoy the bursting life filled with firecrackers …so be it and lets have diwali everyday..