How lost am I... - The Trip - I

As I sit down to write this post, I wonder if I am writing this with a reason, or it it going to be random blabbering? I know not why I type out these words on my screen. I have a thousand things that need my attention right now, but I choose to ignore them for a silly blog entry. I know not why people write blogs. I know not why I write blogs. I know not why I keep that journal at my bed side when I haven't looked at it in ages.

I sound delirious as I type these words. I sound hilarious as I type these words. Rather, I feel pathetic as I type these out. WHY? I do not know. Several friends have been pestering me to post a new entry. I guess this is to honour them. So, here's to Megs and Gops and the others who have been coming to this blog hoping to see a new entry.

Forgive me if this turns out to be as uninteresting and boring as I appear right now. But then, these words reflect my current state of mind.

Exactly how lost am I...

I was away from my chaotic lifestyle for some time. I spent a few days at my maternal ancestral village in Bankura in West Bengal. The village is called Dhawani. I am told that there are several villages with that name in and around Bankura. I was given proper directions to reach 'our' Dhawani. The cab guy at the Durgapur station (We had to take a bus or a cab from Durgapur to Dhawani. Being the 'healthy' people we are, we opted for the cab.) asked if we would be ok with being dropped at the bus stop in the village. I readily agreed, telling him that that's where I wanted to be dropped. The guy further enquired if I wanted to be dropped near the tetul gaachh (tamarind tree). I could not recall seeing an imli ka ped there. But I somehow trusted the guy and nodded my head in the affirmative.

Forty minutes later, we were at the door of my Mama's house. And though I always claimed that I could identify it in seconds, I could not identify it immediately. The door was painted red. Well, the entire wall was painted red. The front wall was promoting a famous cement brand. Or was it a toothpaste. God knows! Given the state of mind, I can't remember anything.

My husband, being the second non-Bong (the first being my father) in my Mom's khandaan was extremely sceptical of this entire expedition. Gaaon aur upar se Bangali! He screamed at me when he saw me knocking at the red door. He really thought we were going to get beaten. The door was open, and I saw a young girl inside. Kept wondering if she was a part of the family. Later I found out that she was one of the maids helping my Maima (Mami - Mama's wife) handle the inflow of guests during the Puja time. Oh that reminds me, I forgot to tell you the purpose of our visit. (See how well structured this entry is!)

My mom's family have been celebrating Durga Puja for over 150 years. I had last visited the village during the Puja about 10 years ago. I wanted to show the family Durga Puja to my husband.

Ok, that's that... will write about the second part of this trip tomorrow.