Goddess Durga and her kids wait for the annual bash (satire)

‘How are the preparations going on?’ Lord Shiva asked to nobody in particular. He seemed to be off mood because, once Durga leaves with her kids for her mother’s home, he would be left alone to fend for himself. It was an annual affair and he had got used to it – he would enjoy the freedom.
‘The number of pujas are increasing,’ Saraswati said. ‘Kids today do not pray any longer for my intervention - they have got addicted to coaching classes and are scoring nearly full marks.’
‘I know,’ Lakshmi joined in the conversion. ‘They have unearthed innumerable methods to make money and are deserting me.’
‘You are so very right,’ Ganesh intervened. ‘Earlier, only a section of people used to worship me in Bengal. But, today, the numbers have increased. They seek my blessings for their investments in chit funds. My image is taking a beating.’
Kartika had been a silent spectator till now.

‘And what is your opinion?’ Durga prodded him. ‘You are the one who is supposed to make the fashion statement.’
‘Fashion is not there anymore,’ Kartika sighed. ‘Actors go bare bodied, actresses wear the skimpiest of dresses. And – it is not due to fashion but due to convenience.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Have you seen them dance?’
‘Yes. Every movie has dance sequences. That is the tradition.’
‘Right. But – the nature of the dance has changed. Today it is all about throwing your hands and legs in all directions. And – to perform such antics, one cannot be tied down in too much dress. It is the requirement – like in sports. Those who run to win medals wear the scantiest of dress – just to ensure respectability.’
‘Where does that leave you?’ Durga asked.
‘Stranded,’ Kartika replied.
‘Actually, Bengalis are gradually losing their culture,’ Durga sighed. ‘They want everything on a platter. Gone are the days when the women would think up new recipes to win the hearts of her family members.’
‘They don’t have time to think about such trivialities,’ Shiva murmured from his corner.
‘You can’t blame the women,’ Durga protested. ‘They now chip in with their salaries to enjoy the goodies that life has to offer.’
‘I know,’ Shiva grinned. ‘I can see that from the huge crowds in the pandals – they do not have time to pray to you. They are busy taking selfies and wondering about the table booked in the restaurant to enjoy over long forgotten Bengali menus.’
Ganesh strolled up stroking his paunch.
‘I should now,’ he said. ‘The restaurants have master chefs who try hard to replicate the recipes of their mothers and grandmothers.’
‘And – the owners roll in money while the patrons roll in agony - at the size of the bill.’
‘One has to pay to enjoy the good things of life,’ Durga became philosophical. ‘Everything comes with a price tag.’(to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org


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