Having grown up hearing the stories of Agomoni from our grandparents' generation, how Maa Durga is but a daughter returning home to us, for five days, and the blue sky and white clouds being a reflection of her happiness on her impending homecoming. Then suddenly clouds begin to gather, and my grandmother would often say, Oh look, there it is, Shiva seems angry. Why, I would ask, the eager child in me, always having a love for stories. And love stories. The clear blue sky and the fluffy white clouds are another natural thing that preludes the Dhak of Durga Pujo. Every time I see it, no matter when and where, it reminds me of her. Having grown up hearing the stories of Agomoni from our grandparents' generation, how Maa Durga is but a daughter returning home to us, for five days, and the blue sky and white clouds being a reflection of her happiness on her impending homecoming. Then suddenly clouds begin to gather, and my grandmother would often say, Oh look, there it is, Shiva seems angry. Why, I would ask, the eager child in me, always having a love for stories. And love stories. Why, of course, he will miss his wife when she comes here with the children, and he doesn't want her to come. Thunderstorms would follow, often drenching the plains of Bengal, and we would hear a rather popular tale of how perhaps it is Shiva and Parvati having one of their marital arguments up there in Kailash, which was for some reason always skywards. Oh, who won? The rains were too heavy. She must be crying. The imaginative child in me would go into a world where she would be in tears over an argument. But then look, the sun shone through the clouds again. She must have won the argument; After all, who could win an argument with his wife? Not even the Lord. So she is coming home after all? I would be excited again. Mainly for the new clothes and the list of food we planned to eat throughout the five days. That was the only time in the year when your mother wouldn't scold you over that ice lolly from the streets. But then, often our grandparents would tell us how Lord Shiva doesn't want to miss out on the fun either. That is why he secretly follows his family to the land, and is always seen behind the idol of the Goddess. Oh, and he is definitely jealous of the attention she gets at her home! We would often giggle, imagining how he, like any other human in flesh and blood, was jealous of missing out on good things.
Why, of course, he will miss his wife when she comes here with the children, and he doesn't want her to come. Thunderstorms would follow, often drenching the plains of Bengal, and we would hear a rather popular tale of how perhaps it is Shiva and Parvati having one of their marital arguments up there in Kailash, which was for some reason always skywards. Oh, who won? The rains were too heavy. She must be crying. The imaginative child in me would go into a world where she would be in tears over an argument. But then look, the sun shone through the clouds again. She must have won the argument; After all, who could win an argument with his wife? Not even the Lord.
© Suranya
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