Deepak hails from Bihar. Every year during the pujas he stands beside the Maddox Square gate under the array of yellow lights that adorn the streets. He sells balloons, little toys and whistles. He makes it a point to stand for at least twenty hours a day, especially during this time of the year, all in the hope that this year he can earn enough to make his father’s gall bladder operation happen. He stands there with hope in his beady eyes which eventually flickers whenever he sees a kid badgering his/her parents to buy them something. The parents usually give in to their beloved kid’s request initially but then back off after they hear that, that toy gun costs fifty bucks. The parents try to bargain and lessen it down to twenty or thirty bucks. A few even offer nothing more than fifteen. Sometimes they get tired and buy it, sometimes Deepak, being helpless gives it away for twenty. Most of the times they take the children away by making a promise of ‘later’. Deepak, keeps on standing. The Doraemon and the Shinchan tied to his stick flies above his head!
Manoj runs a make-shift fast food stall right opposite the entry gate of College Square. People come to his stall to grab a quick bite before they join the wave to enter the pandal of College Square. His customers are restless, hungry, some of them complaining and angry as well. Manoj and his brother are the two employees of his stall. The orders keep piling up and both of them have a hard time managing the stall. Manoj wears a vest and a trouser both of which has occasional holes in them. Just like his customers, Manoj is also restless. He knows his eight-year old daughter is waiting for him back home expecting a new pink-coloured frock. He wants to make as much business as possible before midnight and go back home to his daughter along with her pink frock. He hurries up and puts another egg roll on his big ‘tawa’ to fry.
Abhishek stands outside his kiosk on the crossing of Gariahat wearing his uniform- a white shirt, a pair of white pants and a white helmet, the straps of which hurt his chin now and a pair of black boots. The boots are a gift from his wife. They got married two months back. He has slept only five hours in the last two days. He watches the sea of people crossing his kiosk to go see the pandals of Ekdalia Evergreen and Singhi Park. There is no traffic of cars really but a traffic of humans for sure. Some come to him for directions, some for requesting him to move the rope boundary faster than usual. Honestly, Abhishek too wants to do everything faster than usual. “Tumi amay thakur dekhate niye jabena?” (Won’t you take me out for pandal hopping?), he cannot get these words of his wife out of his head. This is her first Durga Puja in Kolkata. This is their first Durga Puja, together!
“O Dada!, dori ta shoran! Kotokkhon wait korbo?” (Brother, remove the rope! How long should we wait?)
Abhishek comes out of his cloud of thoughts. He removes the rope hurriedly thinking of how long he has to wait before he can go home.
We often get so lost in our own happiness, in our own merry-making that we forget there are people sacrificing the biggest joys of their lives to make ours more joyful. So, this puja, if we ever come across a Deepak or a Manoj or a Abhishek, let’s not forget to smile and at least acknowledge their efforts. Let us not hackle Deepak for a mere ten or twenty bucks, let’s not bug Manoj to make that plate of hakka chow faster or shout at Abhishek for clearing the traffic at once. Maybe, then only the puja will be everyone’s!
The Amateur's Scratchpad 