Murshidabad–An Unforgettable Visit
In Murshidabad, bewitched I stationed my gaze at the edifice
How the Stillness was palpable
It was an unforgettable visit to Murshidabad some winters ago which threw surprises we were not ready for….
Bewitched, I stationed my gaze at the edifice. The stillness was palpable.
Trees nodded gently to the passing gust, as the narrow stream bordering the terra firma danced away to some unknown.
On a customary winter visit to Kolkata it was decided upon, to fulfill our long cherished plan of visiting the countryside. We chose Murshidabad.
We were taking a lazy round of the village when we stuck upon the spot.
As I took the leading lane, ma-baba following suite,a voice quipped in local dialect” didi, don’t make any noise, there’s puja going on”.
Equipped with my urban smartness I chose to ignore him. There was no mention of a temple here in the travel website.
I doubled my pace to avoid any further conjecture and to reach the point in a hurry……lo and behold!
Standing handsome, resplendent even in its weathered form is a terracotta temple housing a shiva linga.
We started to go in, only to realise a human presence murmuring softly. More near, they were Shiva strotras being chanted by the slightly hunched, mid-sized priest.
Once finished, the priest took the puja thali and turned behind to see us waiting.
The salt ‘n pepper, rather long & unkempt beard suspended from his chin ,could not be missed in an apparently soft face.
He came to us, gave us Prasad and touched my head with a smile,” May god bless you”.
As he turned and walked away, he took out a white scull cap from his right pocket and placed it carefully on his ruffled hair.
The day was not gone.
Slightly puzzled, we were rambling back ,when a familiar smell filled the air.
My mother, instantly recognising it, started moving towards the nearest mud hut.
My eyes, inadvertently fell on two welcoming eyes, peeping through a veiled face, instructing me to follow her.
I did, only to find my mother, gesturing me like a teenager, to check the earthen pot lying in front.
Now I know. Freshly made, dry roasted, puffed rice, what we call ‘ muri’.
My hand touched my clutch, when they were stopped by my mother” Learn to respect people, enjoy the hospitality”,she whispered.
After gulping a bowl, packing some for our evening tea and profusely thanking the lady ,we left , after making a mental calculation of the cost of this pack of puffed rice in Kolkata and Delhi.
In some obscure village in a nondescript part of our country, a local maulavi protects and conducts puja in a centuries old Hindu Temple in a ‘ minority’ majored village, where people serve you lunch for free.
As I walked back to our urban carrier, I felt a lump in my throat. Trying hard to smile through my discomfort I knew something inside me found peace. Many answers to what “The Nation Wants to Know”.
Yes.
Lost and found.
Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind.
“You read and write and sing and experience, thinking that one day these things will build the character you admire to live as. You love and lose and bleed best you can, to the extreme, hoping that one day the world will read you like the poem you want to be.”
http://Charlotte Eriksson
Murshidabad is a town in the Indian state of West Bengal. This town is the headquarters of Lalbag subdivision of Murshidabad district.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murshidabad
It is located on the eastern bank of the Bhagirathi River. During the 18th century, Murshidabad was a prosperous and cosmopolitan town.
Murshidabad was the capital of the Bengal Subah for seventy years.
This town was the home of wealthy banking and merchant families from different parts of the Indian subcontinent and wider Eurasia.
European companies, including the British East India Company, the French East India Company, the Dutch East India Company and the Danish East India Company, conducted business and operated factories around the city. The town was also a centre of art and culture.
Murshidabad was named after its founder, Nawab Murshid Quli Khan. Murshid is an Arabic term for a teacher or guide with integrity, sensibility, and maturity. The suffix -abad is derived from the Persian word abad, which referred to a cultivated place.
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