No, I didn’t feel the urge to tag along with my parents this year to watch the pandals being made. The goddess is the same every time, but we humans wander around, eager to see how much money was spent on her temporary home.

A display of art, a show of devotion—or maybe just a way to clean up black money.

It’s not that I dislike it. I just wasn’t interested this year.

I saw everything through the countless photos on my friends’ statuses and the nearby pandals I passed. The goddess arrives, and we give her a place to stay, but the emotions? They never change.

The devotion, the love, the gratefulness—they’re always the same.

And yet, I don’t know when I’ll feel these things again.
Next year, I’ll be abroad, in a foreign land far away from this tradition.

But before I leave, there’s one thing I wanted this Durga Puja—something I needed: to be with my Radha.

Today was that day. Maybe the best day I’ll have in this year’s Puja.