I have been delaying this eternally. But if I not write now, it would become too irrelevant to write at all. The Vijaya Dashami post!

I woke up early that day, defying my own expectation.....Navami had seen me engaged from dawn to late night, and I, hence, had not hoped to rise at 7!

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I planned to first go to Amritanshu's place- it was his Dadaji's Shraddha- and then rush home, and pack....and between that, to also see the Mustafis, who had been keenly helpful throughout...

Invading rains altered the plan...I first packed, and waited for the downpour to relent...

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The packing was difficult.

Last year, she had done that for me... this time, I helped myself....But,not nearly as adroitly...The towel was not the softest one, and there weren't enough pairs of socks and handkerchiefs to store...paper napkins, too, were missing...and my shaving equipments, that she had neatly arranged in a plastic box last time, had to be fitted inside the travel-bag somehow!

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The Mustafis were the perfect hosts, offering us snacks prepared specially for Bijoya, besides comforting words and concern!

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At Amritanshu's place, we stayed for only a fleeting moment....and upon his forcing us, took a few helpings of breakfast....

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I also briefly visited Ramkrishna Mission Ashram, where I bowed down to the Goddess and prayed for Maa's peace....

I expressed obeisance also to Sri Ramakrishna and Sarda Devi, who had been muma's sustaining basis in life...She'd pray to them- their pictures right beside the almira in our bedroom- and seek help whenever she felt insecured or sad. I recalled.

My belief in them, too, was overwhelming. Whenever mumma was late from college, and disturbing thoughts crowded on in me, I'd pray to Sarda Devi....and when the night thickened, and mumma still would not be home, I'd nudge her picture and cry....jostle her, and petition her repeatedly to bring Mumma back....

It always worked. I remebered.
Maa would appear at once, like some Gennie.

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This time, I need not.
But, I did pray to them and asked them to comfort her.

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I had ensured that Rice and Fish were cooked this year, too...As is the tradition on Bijoya...

We ate..
The son of our old Grocer, who so admired mumma and who had come to see us, ate too.

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Muma as well.
I served her separately.

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My strength, that had endured until now, slowly began to yield.... like some old fortress, which, although mighty and unfailing, is finally undone by mightier ills prevailing!

I called up Shahla Miss and cried. Sought her solace and cried. Talked to her and cried. Asked her umpteen times, "Why?" and cried again...

Till it was time for me to leave.

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4:30 PM, October 17:
Inside the auto, with brother by the side.

The road was jammed by copious crowds.. who had come to see Raavan Vadh.. At Gandhi Maidan..

There were thousands of them. Whirling around in unbridled gait, and often bumping against one another in an effort to move.

The sight was incorporated with sleek cars darting around amid the throngs. Loud,discordant chatter and a deafening buzz of ringtones punctuated it.... Announcing, as if, the God's descent!

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Never before had I been out on a Dushehra evening. It's just not safe. There has been many stampedes that day. But, who would stop me today? And then I needed to catch my flight, too.

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From among the swarms of men, I am allowed a glimpse of Raavan.

50 feet tall Raavan.
10 headed Raavan.
Spiteful Raavan.
Imposter Raavan.

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But there was Rama, too.
For believers' comfort.

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On this day, when Maa would cook me snacks and we'd light diyas together, I had to go. I had to leave my home, my house, that I had so ardently loved, and retire 2000 kilometres down south.

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Because somebody had usurped 9 Lacs of my mother's money....and 5 lacs of mine, too.. And had had the audacity to bid for my freedom in exchange of that!

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I looked at Ravana, and I looked at Rama.
And I appealed for justice, then!

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He would. Definitely.

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In another three hours, I had boarded the flight. And left the city I had grown up in.

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