Durga Puja has always been more than just a festival for me—it’s an emotion, a heartbeat of memories that tie me to my family and my roots. While many celebrate it with grandeur and crowds, for me, Puja has always been about one thing: togetherness with my Baba, Maa, Dada, and me.
Back then, our Puja had its own rhythm. At home, mornings began with incense, Maa’s gentle prayers, Baba arranging flowers, and Dada making us laugh with his jokes. Evenings, though, were for something truly special—pandal hopping.
Every year, our journey started with Panchami—we roamed around Kolkata, visiting Ahiritola, Bagbazar, Kumartuli, and so many more. Maa usually stayed back, while Baba, Dada, and I explored the city’s magic.
On Shashthi, it was Howrah’s turn—Kadamtala and nearby pandals filled our evening.
Saptami again brought us back to Kolkata, completing the remaining pandals.
But Ashtami—oh, that day was my favorite. We stayed local, exploring the pandals of Salkia. After that, the four of us would head straight to the Natunmandir fair. The fair was huge in those days. We had a tradition—eating Dahi-bada (our absolute favorite dish), and I never missed buying a balloon. That balloon was my little treasure, my most awaited joy of Durga Puja.
Then came Navami. We returned to cover the pandals of Salkia again—because trust me, you could never finish it all in a single day! Maa usually stayed home that night, busy preparing for the next day. Because on Bijoya Dashami, the day of farewell, our home filled with the aroma of sweets and ghugni. We went to friends’ and relatives’ houses, offered homemade food, touched elders’ feet, hugged cousins, and carried home blessings.
Those were golden days—filled with laughter, food, fair, pandals, and endless love.
But now… things are different. Baba is no more, Maa has grown old, and life has changed. Me and Dada sometimes go pandal hopping just to click a few pictures, but most of the time we stay at home. Yet, there is still one part of our Puja that remains deeply special—our stray cats. They are our family now too. Some live indoors, some outdoors, but they don’t know what a festival is. So during Durga Puja, we make sure to treat them with something special, to make them happy, to make them feel loved.
And maybe that’s what Puja really is—not just pandals and lights, but the simple joy of togetherness, the warmth of memories, and the act of spreading love in whatever way we can.
This is my way of celebrating Durga Puja—rooted in memories, touched with change, but always full of love.
How do you celebrate this beautiful festival? I would love to hear your stories and experiences in the comments below—after all, every celebration becomes more meaningful when shared.
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