Joy Ma Durga

mum just called me from a pujo pandal in chanakyapuri, delhi. she's there for a huge health check up, but luckily it's pujo time, so she's gadding about with friends.. and surprise surprise - family! my grandparents have made it there from distant vasundhara enclave. and - they all ran into my estranged aunt, my dad's darling little sister, who went a bit crazy a few years ago and started a disgusting property battle. but pujo fever, or age, or distance, seem to have eroded the sharp edges away, because they all called me joyously together, from the same phone. the dhakiya started up in the background, and they had to hang up. with promises of calling soon, passing on numbers and email addresses.

london suddenly feels very far far away from the hot thick drum roll inside the red pandal, the sweet smoke and the excited overdressed aunties. i wonder if i should go and visit the maa here, in antiseptic pujo halls, with accented announcements and uninspiring bhog, where yobs do bhangra to the dhakiya's beats. or stay in bed clinging to the snatch audio memory of my family reconciliating under the big white chandelier in a field in Delhi.