Every year around this time my great grandmother would lead us through the ritual Saraswati Puja.
Saraswati is the Goddess of learning. She rides on a swan. She plays the veena, a long stringed musical instrument.
SARASWATI _VEENA
And as students my sister and I did not dare miss a Saraswati Puja.
Otherwise who knew what our fate would be during the calculus examination.
This is Sandip Roy in Kolkata.
Diwali is the biggest festival in India. Durga Puja is the biggest festival in Kolkata.
But Saraswati was the goddess we worshipped at home. Every year my great grandmother would lead us in the prayers. In her 90s she would sit on her bed near the little room with the images of her gods and goddess and recite the prayers from there while my sister and I followed her instructions.
One year we taped it on our cassette recorder and after my great grandmother was gone we would play that tape every year. And even though she was no longer around her voice made it almost seem like she was still there, guiding us through the rituals.
But over time that magnetic tape warped and eventually it faded away.
By then my mother had taken on the mantle of priest-in-chief. She would issue instructions while we scurried to keep up.
MOTHER1
Unlike my great grandmother my mother was not particularly religious. She didn’t know the prayers by heart. But we found a dog-eared book of prayers so she could have a cheat sheet ready. We hoped the Goddess of Learning would not mind.
In a way it felt like the passing of the baton. On the day of Saraswati Puja my mother, freshly bathed, would install herself near the images. Now my niece and nephew were part of the festival. Their textbooks would be arranged around the Goddess for her blessings. My sister would cut the fruits to be offered to the goddess. My brother in law would bring in his violin to be blessed. My mother would offer up her ball point pen. I would bring my laptop in for the ritual blessing for the goddess.
Our ceremony was a little makeshift. Unlike my great grandmother, my mother did not know the steps in perfect detail. But still she would put on her glasses and try to check if we were doing things right.
MOTHER2
Give the goddess the flowers now. Did you give some to the swan?
Close your eyes and ask for her blessings.
My brother in law would ring the little bell with great enthusiasm. My sister would try to hurry things along.
Did we do this step last time I would ask doubtfully. My mother would say indignantly that was what my great grandmother would do.
MOTHER 3
Since great grandmother was not around anymore that was the end of that argument. We would just try keep count. Did we say the prayer twice? Ok once more
MOTHER_TWICE
Every year I would try and tape my mother’s prayers. But we never quite got a clean take. There was always some confusion, some hesitation, some fumbling. Sometimes she would lose her pagemark. And the prayer it marked.
MOTHER_LOST
Until we got to the final prayer which we all knew by heart.
MOTHER 4
Saraswati Puja was always a holiday from homework because our textbooks and pens were in the custody of the Goddess. We were more interested in lunch together. And then free from homework pressures it was time for youngsters to go out on dates. Bengali Valentines Day - thats what we always called Saraswati Puja.
By then my mothers prayers would be a distant memory.
This year was the first time we had Saraswati Puja at home without my mother. We looked up the hymns online and found the whole set sung perfectly by well-known singers
SARASWATI PRAYER
There were no fumbles, no wait wait, don’t rush me, oh I think I missed a step. No outtakes.
But then as we sat down to worship the Goddess at the last moment I pulled out my old recording and played my mother’s Saraswati prayers instead.
As we sat there with out eyes closed, her voice made it feel she was still right there.
And it was the fumbles and mistakes that made it feel real. Not perfect. Just human.
It was like a gift from the Goddess
MOTHER 5
This is Sandip Roy in Kolkata