The mother has arrived with her children
The crowd thickens,
They move towards the goddess,
Surrounded by light
Life slows down,
And a city comes alive
Even the shehnai, with all it’s melancholy,
Cannot manage to dampen their spirits
It rises,
The sound,
The joy,
Like an epidemic it spreads
Breaking barriers of faith and tongue
Until something within the concrete jungle
Raises its head,
Howls at the sky
And the clouds burst open
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Durga Puja is such a charismatic festival! I am totally in love with it. However, you don’t get any good spectacles here in northern part of India. Your poem and that picture really took me to Bengal. A festive read!
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I’m glad it had that kind of effect on you. People go completely bonkers during the Pujas. It’s unbelievable, the enthusiasm.
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