The last night of Pitri pokhkho and the beginning of Debi pokhkho.... Watched the sun set over a river and the pyres burning....while my city decks up for the Durga Pooja. Life goes on amid the births and deaths of lives, relationships, status and all that is part of us and ours. Or is anything mine? Strange thoughts to begin the most joyous season of all. And as I prepare to spend those few days at my newly renovated " baaper bari", there's always an emptiness. Why does joy come with that tinge of sorrow always?