There are times during the Durga Puja when you are overcome with feelings unknown - you start appreciating the finer nuances of the endless rituals. There is a certain calmness and silence that prevails in you, amidst the bells tolling, the dhaks beating, the mantras being chanted, Brahmin priests waving fly-whisks and hypnotic Dhunuchi Dances.
The feeling is somewhat trascendental - you feel a sense of oneness with everything that is happening around you, the devotees reciting the mantras, some audibly and others in their mind, some watching the Sandhya Arati transfixed as if in a trance. You see people with their eyes closed, a deep rooted expression of love reflecting on their faces, for Maa Durga, returning to her parental home and playing the role of mother and daughter alike. It's then that everything around you recedes into the background and you perceive yet again and with a better clarity of perception this time, that Durga Puja is not just a homecoming, it's not just the most prolonged ceremony in India, it's not just a Bengali culture, a Bengali ritual, but it's something that grows in you and with you as it comes by every year with a new meaning, something that ties all of us in an invisible bond.
It's not just the five days, but it's the year long wait
