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.
I always told this story to my trainees. About being the Eagle mum. An eagle mum prepares the nest in two layers, first downy feathers and below that,the thorns. When it is time to fly she removes the downy feathers so that the fledglings who refuse to fly fall on the thorns and that makes them flap n fly away! Bhaskar always calls is cruelty, the bojjat mommy! But to me its a way to push one out of the comfort zone, for the world waits beyond! My kiddos moved out to their own place today. And despite being an eagle mum, I kind of miss the chatter. I knew in my heart I would miss having them around... But they need to find their wings!
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