Echoes of Durga Puja

In the land where I was born, lived our masters a long ago. Not only were they strong, but also they believed we’d never change. This isn’t meant to diss the British. They built the streets and the bridge. And they built what we now call this city, the city of joy. Walking down the road, I feel that everything I see still relates; yesterday’s gone, but it would never leave. Our times are new, yet nothing’s new. But, although there is confusion, there is peace. There is a child-like joy in seeing people get ready for Pujo; the guard of police always protecting, and never reflecting an inch of doubt on their dirt-free uniform. Among my fellow devotees, I’m sure, I am not the only one intoxicated. But who else gets drunk with Bhaang just to witness the hubbub on the streets? Who else sees everything, but still cannot read? <a href="https://nishantj2486.medium.com/echoes-of-durga-puja-257f39f4855d">Click Here</a>