Durga Puja Diaries, Kolkata – “Collage”

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A collaged abode,

Glowing out to the crowds,

Standing broad and stretched in canvas on bamboos,

Illustriously narrating the country’s golden moments,

Magnified reports,

Straight out from the newspapers,

As if stamping each and every deed,

With solid evidence…

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The first beings that we could draw,

Eyes, the nose and the lips,

Jotted in spheres,

Always imperfect,

Though, etched with a lot of care,

Balancing on a stick,

Branching out twice,

Similar were the lit up figures,

Welcoming me to the display,

Showcasing posters in black and white,

National glories to tickle our elements of pride…

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Soon facets from Kumartuli came up to a side of mine,

Idol sculptors therein at work,

Slapping magic with clay and mud,

A visual story of an artistic process,

I only hope,

Crawls somewhere in this region’s subconscious,

It’s rarely talked about, it seldom surfaces…

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Artistic impressions of the idol,

Created as cover images,

For  bengali puja special publications,

Arranged in tiles,

Scaling right till the ground,

On my other side…

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She stood there with her children,

Clad in our traditional attire,

The very force behind this creation,

 Resting within the story,

The entire collage…

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Debaroon’2012

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Durga Puja Diaries, Kolkata – “Dabble in Double the Lights”

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Knotting the city,

Adorning the narrowest of its streets,

Pointing out to outsiders like me,

Electric strings of happiness,

Bonded together,

No matter how tough life coughed up to be,

They were there,

Hand in hand,

Shoulders in shoulders,

Entwining lives of each other,

Untiringly celebrating off sorrows,

Unknowingly augmenting smiles,

Like the calm water in front of me,

Doubling up the illuminated mood by that lake side…

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Debaroon’2012

Durga Puja Diaries, Kolkata – “The Butterfly Effect”

I know it’s late, and I would rather, honestly confess that it’s been around three months now that snaps clicked at the festival of Durga Puja in Kolkata, have been lying with me.

Now, it’s obvious that no matter how prosy my write-up is, if I share experiences woven around those clicks now, I will be imagined as a lazy bum by new friends from all over the world.

I can’t really get rid of far-fetched imaginations and conclusions, but I can very well try to put my opinion across. To express the same kind of emotions that ran through me when I came across the Udayan Sangha pandal in Naktala, Kolkata, was even impossible for me when I’d just reached home the very same night.

All that I could have done then for a bit of justice to my emotions, the joy that ran through my veins, would probably have been, uploading the pictures on a social media site, along with a few lines, trying my best to briefly dole out my fresh feelings, standing in that crowd.

So, sharing the same after months seemed like an unrealistic idea until I decided upon scripting an informal write-up to actually fulfill my desire to share images of the pandal with my readers.

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Surrounded by standing butterflies,

Trees, bushes,

Making a patch in that urban neighborhood,

Depict a forest,

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I could see the giant butterfly,

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Her monstrous wings teeming with lights,

Lights red, yellow, orange, green and blue,

As if trying to eclipse all the attention towards itself,

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I could see her coming out of the cocoon,

Encircled, guarded by the ones on their feet…

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The cocoon had the idol of the Goddess in it. Both, the idol and the chandelier are worth a watch.

 

 

Debaroon’2012

Durga Puja Diaries, Kolkata- “Struck by the Adi Naktala pandal”

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The jostling crowd,

Streaming in and out,

Women in smiles around the Durga Puja  pandal,

The glittery costumes and their vibrant colors,

Nothing could bend my fix,

Image I was struck,

Freshly painted dried mud, clay and terracotta,

The six prominent shades,

Bringing alive the Indian devils and the saints,

As if a forest of mythological trees,

The brush strokes,

Image The pottery and the intricate designs using plaster and clay,

Their rural finishes,

It all took me down to my roots,

To my land,

It all smelled of the soil of Bengal,

The sweat of its artisans soaked in it,

It all left me captivated…

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Debaroon’2012