...that time of the year

You know its that time of the year when there's a slight nip in the air; the days become slightly shorter, and the nights become lonelier, the sweet scent of Shiuli phool marks the arrival of autumn and the impending festivities of Durga Puja. That time of the year, where everything looks bright and a little golden, like the whole world got a fresh coat of paint overnight. In the slow morning, somewhere in the background, Mahalaya plays on a radio or TV, our grandmother's ready to take it all in, and suddenly I'm ten years old again, half-asleep in the early morning.
Pujo is never just about Ma Durga for me. It was the smell of new clothes that you weren't allowed to wear until Shoshti. It is the dhak starting up in the distance and your chest tightens a little. It is pandal hopping until your feet ached and bled, but you still keep going, bhog khichuri on paper plates that somehow tasted better than anything at home, and ending up with the same people on the same steps every year, talking about nothing - because Pujo only comes once a year, maa visits us during this time. During Pujo, we don't fast, we feast!

Then there is the friends part, which is its own kind of festival. After scurrying to the pandal to reach just in time for Pushpanjali, some days we skip meals entirely because there's too many pictures to click, too many memories to create, and laugh a little extra on someone's lame attempt at humour. Other days we eat like we're not fed at home. Chicken roll, chicken malai tikka, fish fry, mutton kosha & luchi (heavenly), fuchka and what not. Nothing is off the table during "Pujo'r din"; not the food, not the gossip, nor the laughter.
I think that's why the nights feel lonelier after the Pujo. Not because anything is missing exactly, but because everything used to be so full. The lights, the crowd, the noise. And then Dashami comes, the Shidur khela, the Bishorjon, and just like that Ma goes home, and the city goes quiet again. Every year I tell myself I'm ready for it, and every year I'm not.
Anyway. Still glad there's more to come. Still waiting for that first whiff of shiuli in the morning...