Pujo Diaries

#3 My City..

Durga pujo is synonymous to Kolkata..
So when i walk down the memory lane reminiscing pujo..
My city plays an integral part in it..
My city is a confluence of new and old..
Holding on to it's traditions.. the city have witnessed modernization on the go..
Culture still silently linger along the narrow bylanes of the north..
Unlike nature.. as people ravage my city.. politically.. socially.. physically..
She stands strong with her fragile arm..petite face.. flowing locks.. welcoming us all in her warm embrace..
And every year she decks herself up in bright colors of festivity..
When my city stays up all night.. due to the cacophony..
Yet she smiles with her tired eyes.. because it's that time of the year..
When walls break between rich and poor..
When different religions become one..
When love conquers hatred..
When dreams become reality..
When nights become bright..
When we start getting back our faith..

She smiles.. she sees.. she lives again.. drawing all her strength to give back love to whoever comes her way..
She waits.. like every year.. for her children.. to come home..