What do you think of Saraswati Puja? 16th February 2021 a random question asked by an ex-student who is my colleague now in a B Ed College, where we both are working as administrators! That exclamation is because I laugh at designations specially the ones which represent definite hierarchies. Hierarchies are created everywhere, some are subtle some are obvious. What has hierarchies got to do with Saraswati Puja, a question I would enjoy writing about.
My answer to her was I do not think inspite of being born in a Bengali family which religiously follow the tradition. As an afterthought I had added that I am an atheist. Bengalis celebrate Saraswati Pooja with lots of fervour and festivities. I have lovely memories of my Didu, my maternal grandmother teaching me and my sisters a few prayers, one of them on Saraswati. Didu had beautiful handwriting and would write to me letters in English. One day when I was 13, I decided that I should write to her in Bangla. With the help of Bangla newspaper I wrote a letter to her on the postcard. When I showed the letter to my father he could not believe that I had written it. Smt Gayatri devi Sengupta, my Didu was an amazingly woman. She had written Gita in simple Bangla in poem form for Bengalis to be able to read. Bhaimama (my youngest Mama — mother’s brother) got it published which is with Didu’s pen name ‘Charulata’. Didu would sometimes come and stay with us. She would tell do not marry without love. If there is no love there is no sense remaining married.
I had travelled to Agartala for research in 2000. There I had been to meet my mother’s cousin, a retired Doctor, who had never met me and not even seen my photo. He had said that he is well known in Agartala and I would be able to find him. I did find his dispensary but he had not come that day. The rikshawala kindly said he could take me to Doctor saheb’s home. And sure enough he took me (to the residence). My Mami, a lovable person, accepted me, a vagabond niece without inhibitions. She told me that the moment I got down from the rickshaw my Mama said that I am related to Shona Didi! He called my maternal grandmother thus. I relish this, for once, similarity with Didu. All my life I have been associated in appearance with my father.
As Dadu (my maternal grandfather) died soon after my parents’ wedding I have seen Didu all my life in plain white sari with no colours on it. Even Mummum would wear white after Dadu’s (my paternal grandfather) death. I am surprised at myself that I saw red, when someone made my mother wear a white sari after my Baba died.
Didu was a graceful woman. Somehow time and hardships forgot to leave trace on her appearance. I have heard her utter with pain why she had to remember things. Sometimes I feel that I probably trained myself to forget things because of her pain. Maybe whatever memory cells I had got wiped out feeling her pain of remembering. The thoughts that get written are not out of memory but just floating in the space and downloaded in black and white. She could make shondesh, pithe, narkel nadu, a few more, to perfection; these are Bengali sweets which I have never tried my hands on making them. She would make katha (quilt made with old saris) and make designs with running stitch (become prevalent lately as Katha stitch) on it without drawing. I preserve one made by her with a new cover.
I learnt from my youngest mashi (Prof. Nandita Rudra) the land they had got in lieu of leaving their home in East Bengal was in a far fletched place on the outskirts of Calcutta. Didu wanted her children to be educated so she left that and shifted to a place in Calcutta which my eldest Mama had arranged in Akhil Mistry Lane. My parents got married in that home and we kept visiting that place till I was ten. My sister gave the name, ‘Akhil Mistry Lane’, to our maternal side family’s WhatsApp group. Since 1966, as we shifted to Baba’s office quarter Didu started coming to stay with us in Jabalpur.
Soon after marriage I had kids and had a shifting life so I cannot remember when Didu passed away to a different space. She keeps visiting me.
I am asking my sisters to supplement with their thoughts on Didu.
This is from Mrs. Bheela Wadehra my third sister, Gut to me.
To me Didu’s recollection is that at the C-8 house, she came during saraswatipujo. She stitched yellow frocks for us by hand, sitting with her needle almost whole night. Those were beautiful frocks. My frock was slightly oversized, so I wore it for many years.
When we visited Calcutta in 1969, it was Amit Dada’s wedding followed by wedding of Chitra Mashi. At that time, we could spend a lot of time with her watching her cut vegetables neatly, making delicious peethey, she had made pulipeethey, teaching us shloka. These are some of them she taught us:
1) Saraswate mahabhage Vidye kamal lochane,
Vidya rupe vishalakshi, Vidyandehi namastute.
2) Jabakusum shankashan kashyapeeyam mahaddhutim,
Dhantaring sarvapapagna, Pranatoshmi divakaram
3) Om Sarva Mangala Mangalye Shive Sarvartha Sadhike
Sharanye Tryambake Gauri Narayani NamostuTe
4) Srishti Sthiti Vinashanam, Shaktibhute, Sanatani
Gunashraye, Gunamaye, Narayani, NamostuTe
5) Sharanagata Dinarta Paritrana Parayane
Sarvasyartihare Devi! Narayani! NamostuTe
When she died, Amma could travel to Calcutta. When Amma returned, she was narrating her last days as heard from all mama/mashis, and Amma had tears in her eyes. I was dumbstruck looking at Amma’s tears. I thought she never needed to cry (even with Bapu’s extreme behavior, I never saw her crying).
This is from my youngest sister Ma Archana Ananda, Shim to me.
1. After marriage is not a correct sentence in English. It means after your marriage was over. Correct — After I got married.
2. Didu (Ajima for us) died in the summer of 1978. Amma returned from Calcutta and said that she feels as if there is nobody for her, like an orphan.
3. I have a problem you calling yourself an atheist after experiencing all the miracles of God, experiencing the Divine within and most of all have a Guru in your life who is the embodiment of Divine. It is misleading the readers at least. Please visit this area. This creates conflict in our body system. After following a Guru, our responsibility changes.
4. She had written Gita in simple Bangla in…. Better- She had translated Bhagwat Geeta in simple Bangla poem format.
5. Not just Bhaimama, his siblings too got it published. You can say that Ajima’s children got it published.
6. I had travelled to Agartala for research in 2000. There I had been to meet mother’s cousin, a retired Doctor, who had never met me and not even seen my photo.
Better- I had visited Agatala in 2000 for some research work. There I met (or I went to meet) my mother’s cousin, a retired doctor, who I met for the first time. I had not even seen his picture.
7. And sure enough he took me. Better- And sure enough he took me there. (Added the word there at the end).
8. As Dadu (my maternal grandfather) died soon after my parents wedding. Correct As Dadu (my maternal grandfather) died soon after my parents got married. Or parent’s wedding day.
9. Ajima also taught us Tang-Tang Swarswati song.
10. Bhawgat Geeta translation starting was painful. Ajima was in Fulmashi’s house and she complained to Fulmashi for not talking to her. Fulmashi gave her a nice pen and notebook to write her feelings. So Ajima translated Bhagwat Geeta. She used to go for walks in the evening when she was living with Bhai Mama. She told me she did not like the women of her age because they are uneducated. They come to the park without wearing a blouse and sit on the grass. Ajima took her mat with her to sit there. LOL! Little did she know that the person she was telling about this sits anywhere on the roadside and starts meditating shamelessly.
Dr. Neela Mukherjee, Nil my second sister who was responsible for my formal education.
# In Eden hospital Didu used to sit before a Krishna photo similar to one I have in my home, and sing engrossed in love, Modhur tomaar shesh je naa paai ogo.
# During summer afternoons she would fan us with hand fan and tell us stories.
# In Bhaimama’s wedding she walked with us and introduced us to her friends.
# In the Visitor’s Book Didu had written a poem for all of us in her beautiful handwriting.
# In Didu’s last time Amma had waiting list ticket. I applied to ACS and got it confirmed in quota.
# Jharnama (my mother’s sister) told us that Didu’s ‘Geeta’ has been published. I feel Didu’s existence with her magnetic smile in my subconscious.
# Didu made Chhaanaa payesh when she came to Rampur, Jabalpur MPEB Quarter C-8.
Didu’s youngest sister Didimoni was very different from Didu. Didimoni is the one who connected me (via my Amma) to Doctor Mama in Agartala. We kept in touch through Post Cards for a long time till she could no longer write, but I continued writing in big letters so she could read till she too passed away into different space.
I have taken what my sisters have shared almost verbatim so it is evident that not only we see English differently, we experience thought and life too with varied perspectives. We coexist peacefully with lots of love. There is no ‘and’ or ‘but’ in it.
