Mahalaya
The sun went deeper in the couch of Brahmaputra and even the last streaks were now not to be seen . The brooding atmosphere of dusk seemed to be a unusual confluence of festivity and ennui. While the village folk retired from the preparation of 1st day of durga puja silent steps made their way to the dark labyrinth of the mangroves. Draped in saffron she ambled through the forest. Where she didn't know. Towards the mysterious lantern maybe . Suddenly the thought of the woman who came regularly these days to the Ashram came to her mind. Another devotee ( victim preferably) for her spiritual guru. The woman's husband was suffering from severe illness. The medical fraternity had given all hopes. Saint Ramdas was now her last resort. 'Saint' Gauri gave a mocking smile imbued with hatred. He may or may not save the women's husband but the stakes she had taken were high. The cost of her own self respect. Gauri shaked off the thought.She finally got a glimpse of the flickering lamp ; the will o wisp .Eighteen she would turn at durgashtmi. She looked her supple body in the light . Saffron symbolises chastity but she had lost it long ago. She moved towards the lantern but it receded away and disappeared to nothingness.Even that mocked her. But when did she?
Panchmi
Gauri was again admist the woods. Coming here had become part of her daily lexicon. The mere sight of will o' wisp over the big always ignited a thinker within her. In Bengal people call it cheer batti.For her it embodied a hope ; conjured the picture of a beautiful world she could only dream of living. She was seven or eight when she was brought to the Ashram as a disciple . Her father brutally murdered during the Bangladesh divide and her mother succumbed to end she don't want to recall. Her fate was even worse. She lost her own self. Squatter to molestations by the so called Spiritual Guru. Nonetheless his disciple who instead of protecting her connived in the act. There was only one thing she had learned from the Ashram in past ten years of her life. Forbearance.
Shashthi
On the sixth day of the celebration Gauri finally found some time to spend with the women in the Puja pandal. Putul was her name. The adjoining village where she lived had boycotted her. An year after her marriage her first child she was a stillborn. Adding to that her husband lost his job and was ill for a very long time. Such a curse she was on her family she said. They had a long conversation. Afterall she had found someone she could call a friend. Though she tried to avoid any mention of Guru Ramdas and keep tacit empathy for each other.
Saptmi
When Gauri met Putul the next day after arranging for the Kali Puja she found something jaundiced in her countenance.
' Is everything okay?' she inquired .
' I have conceived ' was all she answered.
' Isn't that a good news' Gauri exclaimed.
' Not through my husband'.
Gauri stood paralysed with this paroxysm that had hit her. She tried to read her eyes. They were not different from that of the idol. She could see in her insouciant glance the fact that nothing around her existed, shame and vanity, helplessness and control, depravity yet chastity, forbearance yet derangement. Myriads of emotions silent yet dangerous.The chain of thoughts broke when Ramdas called Gauri. Putul had already left.
' I see you are running from your duties on the excuse of this puja. What about my services. After the feast at night do come to my room. There is quite a load for tomorrow.' the guru instructed.
'Yes' she acquiesed. Her exit followed by lewd smiles and giggles of the disciples nearby.
Durgashtmi
This night was one of the most torturous night of her life.Gauri glared at the atmospheric ghost light holding a kalewa in her hand once worn by a chaste wife for life of her husband. Brahmaputra had found a body this morning floating idly in its waters but clenching this kalewa tight. She intently gazed the will o' wisp and asked the lone forest that on which turn of the life is a woman safe from harassment and exploitation. As a child falling in prey of the paedophile or the so called Spiritual Guru that people worship as God ; institutional marriages ; for sure no after today. Even the foolish fire in the distance gave no respite or answer. Only eerie silence.
Fed up she now was from washing the gray of her underpants beyond the power of detergents, from the stabs of virility on her innocence, from the hypocrisy of this world. She heard the noise of women making sound in unison in the distance and beats of procession of durgashtmi. With soaked eyes she looked at the will o' wisp. Her embodiment of hope and emancipation. She took few steps towards it. It didn't recede away but appear to spread. ' Where are you going' the woods asked her.
' I don't really know. Maybe towards the life I always envisioned through this will o' wisp and wherever they take me now.' she answered.
