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DurgaPuja 2020

Love in time of Durga Puja

Saurav Roychoudhury

I
Soumik was in an ebullient mood. Next week is Durga Pujo, beginning of the festive season which will
culminate in Diwali and Kali Pujo. Durga Pujo is a magical period in Kolkata, the city transforms itself into
a beautiful place- sounds of laughter, bonds of friendship, majestic pandels, street foods, lighting, the
festive mood. There is no place like Kolkata in the Pujo season, more so to Soumik as he had to spend the
last two Pujos in Bengaluru, unable to persuade his South Indian boss about the importance of Durga
Pujo for the Bengalis. But there was another reason for Soumik’s exuberance. Their office has just
recruited an HR person who was supposed to be a lovely looking lady, but most important to him, single.
Soumik checked his tie carefully in the mirror. He doesn’t wear a tie very often, but he wanted to create a
good first impression to the new recruit. As he carefully brushed his hair, his sister gave him a bantering
smile “Dada aaj office keu ashbey eto manja dichis jey”. Soumik ignored her sister, smiled a self-satisfied
smile and whistled an old hindi romantic movie tune as he walked to the Rabindra Sarobar metro station.
II
Pinky was excited about the first day in her office. She was lucky to get a decent job in this economy and
the twenty-five-minute train ride wasn’t too bad compared to the 45-minute bus ride in her previous job.
The weather was just right; the sun was shining brightly but not too warm, perfect for the Durga Pujo
next week. She went by her pet-name Pinky and except for her closest friends no one knew about what
she thought was her unflattering first name and an even less flattering last-name. As she sat on the train,
she looked around to see if she could locate someone she knew. Not seeing any familiar faces she turned
her attention to a women’s magazine as the train entered the underground tunnel. When the train
reached the next station, she raised her head from the magazine and looked around the compartment. A
handsome looking guy had just got into the train and by his looks he seems to be a Bengali.
III
Soumik was a man of routine; he always took the 8:40 am metro from Rabindra Sarobar station which
brought him to the Central Station at 9:00 am leaving him enough time to walk to his office at Dalhousie.
He always chose the same compartment that gave him a strange sense of security. As usual, there was no
possibility of getting a seat in the rush hour so Soumik stood in his usual place, which was between the
general and the ladies' seats. That’s when he saw her, the girl was in her mid twenties, beautiful, had no
hint of make-up except for the neatly drawn kajal which seem to stress her lovely eyes. Soumik gazed at
her and soon realized that the girl had similar kind of effect on the other male passengers. Soumik was a
star student; he got through the West Bengal Joint in his first attempt, did Computer Science from
Jadavpur and now working as a project manager in an IT company. But in the matter of romance he
regarded himself as an abject failure. He never had a girl friend and the closest he came to having an
affair was with a “aatel” girl named Mandira. They were from the same para and she studied
comparative literature at Jadavpur. But things never worked out. Agreed on their first date (and last),
“Independence Day” was not a great choice for a movie but Mandira falling asleep during the second half
of the movie was too much for Soumik. She referred to it as an imperialist movie, “Markin samrajyobadi
soktir nidorshon.” That was it, what he called his only escapade with the opposite sex. His sister had
unsuccessfully tried hooking him up with a friend of her called Mandakranta Purakayastha, who
apparently had developed some feelings for him by just seeing his snap. But Soumik was disinterested, he
was either apprehensive of dating someone with a name like that or more likely according to his
Casanova office colleague Samrat, “Tui beta bhitu, meyeder byapare tor kono guts neyi.” Soumik exhaled
deeply and looked furtively at the beautiful girl on the train. However, his moment of bliss was rudely
interrupted by a sharp voice, “Eyi je dada, ki hoche.”

Central Ohio Bengali Cultural Association