Locked in my house with the sole company of my mother, we both, inhaled the fresh, air of the city, void of commotion and malice . After many decades, she describes the city, in a peaceful bliss. But this hour we our thoughts were wrecked with one thought- “Ei bochor, maa ashben toh?” Would bell be rung with the brightest energy? Will I hear our para protibeshi? Will I witness the colours shine, gloriously? Most importantly will I see her dressed in her best. Wondering through the lanes of Kolkata I venture, with a sweet sentiment. Our pride and most awaited time of joy and revelry, is dull as the very clay ahead of me. Joy Ma Durga is poetically synonymous to Durga is Joy. A brief stroll by the ghat and through some lost alley, with a faint romantic memory, i see the lights, and i am struck, with some known aromas.“Maa, aaschen!”Maybe this year pandal hopping will be negligible, maybe the night out at Maddox won’t be possible, maybe this year we won’t be holding hands at Ashtami, but as we all hear, “Maa toh! Monn ere kotha theek bujhen”.At least this year Maa won’t have to worry about me dining out on Chinese, she’s happy that the luchi aaloo dum will be wiped clean by us. This time we shall absorb and prove, that Durga Puja is purely a cosmic emotion for us. Not a mindless revelry or an excuse to break rules, but an opportunity which grounds is to our pure, joyous holy roots .