Tumgik
#devipaksha diaries
jukti-torko-golpo · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
শুভ বিজয়া!!!
A kinda rushed piece
@callonpeevesie @kermithermit @shaonharryandpannisim @jasmineiros  @allegoriesinmediasres @cynicalities  @paneerlajwanti  @ramayantika @hoziestgf @adoginthemanger  @burningqueentimemachine @kingweaslee  @seekerbrave  @peace-punch-captain-crunch17  @laad-governess  @raat-jaaga-paakhi  @a-confusedmess  @vaijayantheee  @the-slythering-raven  @travalerray  @strawberryphrogg @cipher-dorito  @salt-n-caramel  @your-favourite-skittles  @azureblupdf @lovechildofamyrosagina  @dhyanshiva  @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic  @balladofableedinggod2112 @medusasprotegedaughter  @cosmicdreams1111  @chaoticaindica @prachi1729 @caffeinated-pingu  @fineliine  @lookintomyfuckineyes @jalebi-weds-bluetooth  @deckedcards @cat-alkali-hates-themself @brutalrebelkid  @jugn00  @himasikta @roshanee
85 notes · View notes
Text
Age is slowly fading into me as childhood draws out. It is autumn now and the dragonflies dance with euphoria in the morning air. I gaze at the scattered bushes of kaash springing up in and around the suburban area as I pass the rush-hour traffic. I’m returning home – a place I know not the whereabouts of.
It is autumn and the start of the devipaksha. Within minutes, houses across neighbourhoods would reverberate with the hymns of Mahishasuramardini. For that fleeting 1.5 hours, autumn floats over the mortal surface, placid like a sleeping child. Whatever human’s idea of time is comprised of, these minutes span the autumn of 12 years ago and all those before it. The autumn of today is restless, derailed, sordid. But it’s not the autumn that has changed. It’s not the season we lose. In all the autumn that hardly slept, I’ve gradually lost pieces of myself in the souls I mistook to be made up of flesh.
On Mahalayas, I remember to wake up at 4 o’clock and turn on the radio. I want to believe I have only woken up to Supreeti Ghosh’s voice in “bajlo tomar amar benu” and fallen back into the blissful sleep that is only found when one is young. The sound of agomoni travels from far afar, like the resonating conch, carrying announcements of some divine proceedings. The sound voyages across dreams and lulls me back in its warmth. Grandpa has turned the radio on, so I will not have to wake up for it. In some memory, his bed lies empty; I try to imagine him lying there, slowly waking up with the sun. it remains empty, but I can remember his damp soft smell of his aura. This time, I turn the radio on and ask him to go back to sleep.
The Mahalaya is the only morning in a year I sleep in perfect stillness.
With every arrival of the Goddess, I think of ghosts. Such great fallacy it is to call them dead entities. With our every attempt to remember them, they become more living than us. My ghosts stay on as transcendent memories of people, with and without flesh and bones, who still carry pieces of capillaries of my heart with them. In autumns, we sing with the ghosts in unison. Year long, grandpa sits with us each night for dinner and check up on me on my all-nighters. Only now I say, “Sleep well, Ta”. Let this be my tarpan to you.
28 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
The canopy is hereeeee
107 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Looking back at the pujos of yesteryears.... A mobile camera can capture such beautiful memories.
90 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 8 months
Text
মা আসছে...
When pujo vibes hit...it hits hard.
89 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
The Mahalaya sunlight.
50 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
So.....It....has....started.......
37 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
পলক ফেলতে না ফেলতেই পুজো শেষ তাহলে? সিঁদুরে রাঙা বিদায়বেলা আর এক বছরের অপেক্ষা শুরু?
আসছে বছর আবার হবে।
27 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 6 months
Text
For the first time in my housing a woman who is a widow did debi boron and shindur khela. It makes me so happy.
40 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
বউ ঘরে ফিরবে বলে মহাদেব বেশ সাজগোজ করিয়েছে আকাশটাকে....
34 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Simply 🥺
25 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
প্রত্যেক বছরের মতো এবারও আমি মহালয়ার আগের রাতে চলে এসেছি আমার দাদুর বাড়ি। তিন মিনিট এর হাঁটা পথ। রাত এগারোটা বাজে...চুপচাপ রাস্তা। দুটো বেড়াল ঝগড়া করছে, পাড়ার আলোর শেষ কিছু কনেকশন ঠিক করছে কজন আর হল এ রিহার্সাল এর চাপা শব্দ। নিস্তব্ধতা-টা একটু অদ্ভুত। হাওয়ায় হাওয়ায় একটা নির্ভেজাল উত্তেজনা। রাত পোহালেই ভেসে আসবে সেই একটা খুব চেনা গলা। ছোটবেলার অনেক কিছুই সময়ের সাথে হারিয়ে গেছে...হারায়নি শুধু এই গলাটা আর মা এর ফিরে আসার প্রতিশ্রুতি। হয়তো এই দিনটা পালন করা শুরু হয় অন্য এক কারণে...কিন্তু আমাদের কাছে মহালয়া হলো মা এর বাড়ি ফিরে দরজায় প্রথম বেল। আবার উমা ঘরে ফিরেছে। শহর টা পুজোর সাজে সেজে উঠেছে।
48 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
Lightssss heheeeee
I always love the moment when the lights get switched on for the first time in the season.
20 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Khnuti pujo and idol progress. Also which edit of the idol looks better? The first one or the second?
21 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Some moments are coming and sprinkling pujo vibes dust on me.
40 notes · View notes
jukti-torko-golpo · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
কোলকাতা কেবল ভুলে ভরা
Kolkata is filled with little mistakes. Missing a tram station due to a passionate adda. Spilling some chaa while pouring some into your friend's bhnar. The one wrong key of the harmonium. Leaving your bookmark within the pages before selling it to a second hand bookstore. Eyes mistakenly conveying more than you choose to with your words. Forgetting to collect the free dhonepata. Missing a word during Ashtami-r Pushpanjali. A sliver of sadness in The City of Joy.
But eventually erasing the pencil marks of mistakes.
কোলকাতা যে ঠিকেও ভরা
189 notes · View notes