Kumartuli is upset at the farewell of his daughter
From the smell of soil soda to the smell of colours, the frequent movement of people, yes, all together, the artist did not realize when time passed. Since the beginning of summer, the sweat on their heads has fallen on their feet. They have not had time to catch their breath. Suddenly, everything stopped. In the shop, which cannot be entered till the morning of Kali Puja, China, Tapan and many others will sit with their legs spread out in the evening and watch the distant lights. There is no rush for what little work there is. And when the Jagaddhatri Puja is over, that too is over. Then the small hours seem very big, even after the night has passed, there is no rush to get up. Only the days are counted, and Gersthal’s work is boring.
We are talking about pottery. In the past few months, it has been clear from pictures in newspapers, not to mention TV, and social media, how many people on average set foot in the narrow, muddy lanes of North Kolkata every day. That narrow street, shops on both sides. The streets of Kumortuli have been busy for the past few months. Basically, the engagement starts from the eldest. An order comes for Tagore garar, neighbourhood puja, and house puja. The potters got down to work. Different demand, different requirements. From the height to the colour of the saree, keeping everything in mind, the Durga of each neighbourhood, the Lakshmi of the house, is made with their own compassion. By the time of Rakhi Purnima, it can be seen that the soil has fallen on the structure, Ganesha is basking in the sun after it has been made earlier. Ganesha’s stomach has white paint somewhere. Within a few weeks, one by one, the Durga idols got white stains. Sarees, lace blouses are wrapped around Durga during Shiuli Jhara. Lips are red, Kajal in the eyes, Jewelry is worn with care. It can be seen that they do all these things with as much attention as a person decorates the daughter of his house with attention and love.
All the doors of Kumortuli are suffering from inside today.
Chaina swallowed hard while talking about how hard it is to raise and dress up a girl. Pradeep looked bored and said, this is real, the girl has to be dressed and sent to the next room. No matter how much the light shines in the mandap, their daughter’s farewell does not go away. Almost everyone knows about Kumortuli’s China Pal, he has been extremely busy, there is still some work to be done, Jagaddhatri has to be decorated. But when Kali Puja comes, the inside of the Chinese becomes huhu. In the middle of work, he stood at the door and said, ‘Let’s start work from Falgun. Many times before the Durga festival, Kali, Vishwakarma is prepared and stocked. One after another puja. Busyness is at its peak before Durga Puja. I am busy with my mother’s clothes. But after Kali Puja, Jagaddhatri remains, since then we feel sad. From raising a child to sending it to in-laws, to me it is the same thing. When Tagore left, When the house is empty, it hurts. That pain cannot be explained to anyone.’
Goodbye daughter, that’s how Kumortuli’s Tapan Pal thinks. He said directly, ‘The mental condition that occurs when a girl gets married is the same as Tagore’s upbringing. The one whom I created and filled the house with care, will leave. It feels very bad. It hurts. But there is nothing to do.’
At the last moment, Dolan is arranging the ink and checking it, the sigh is still somewhere in the mind. ‘Durga, Lakshmi, Kali successively so busy, crowded, in a moment our house, neighborhood will be empty. The girl of the house goes like father and grandfather, so is our situation.’
They may think every time they will not send you, every time they make eyes, they think when making five fingers, this time they will leave the girl to themselves. Thinking about the time, when the day comes, the girl is handed over to others like a tool. They also took the girl very carefully. The joyous arrangement is all for him, but one by one, the girl’s goodbye is a disappointment for Kumortuli. China turned back and wiped her eyes with a piece of cloth, Dolanra sat bored. Then…winter goes again, spring passes and summer comes…it’s the same thing again.
