This is the worst of times. The sky looks blue one day and grey on another. Poojo is here and markets are thronging. The city is sieged by protests and marches. I go yo-yo. On one hand there is the Mainak poojo, and this time I am helming it by default. With no state grant, our budget is tight despite donations. And as we begin the festivities, I go back to the parents who lost their young daughter. Like a poster said, Poojo hobe, utsab noi.