66/100. My ‘unusual’ pacting continues. Packed a saree for a vacation after exactly 15 years, thanks to the pact. The last time, being away from Kolkata during Pujo felt so much like an actual hole in my heart that I travelled to Toronto all the way from Pittsburgh because I had heard the Pujo there was more like Kolkata. Fifteen years on, Pujo is the only time when leave for more than three days at a stretch was possible. Plus, a long holiday was l-o-n-g overdue. So, it was bye-bye Kolkata this Pujo. And this was why two sarees shared real estate in my suitcase with my swimsuits, shorts and dresses.

At first, I thought of carrying just one saree for Nabami – when we would be in Pune – but finally, sentiment won out over practicality. Ever since I could stand on my own two feet, I have worn a saree on Ashtami day. And so it had to be this year as well.

The saree I chose was a dramatic ghicha silk hand batik half and half saree – half a deep chocolate and the other half a rich russet with the design incorporating ivory, turquoise and yellow – which was a gift from my parents. A pintucked kurti in maroon that could do double duty was what I carried to wear with it.

On Ashtami morning, as my friend Roshni and I walked around the resort, choosing spots for photographs, we talked. About how things used to be and about how things were now – Pujo and otherwise. And as our conversation meandered through the years, we understood again, that what we hold to be of value will always be with us, providing that thread of continuity. This year also, Ashtami morning saw me all decked up in a beautiful saree, though the nearest Durga Pujo was about a 100 kilometres away. Because Ashtami and Durga Pujo is in my heart.

As is my sister. I couldn’t help but shiver in recognition when I was looking at the photographs later and realised that Roshni had happened to click one the exact instant I had looked up at the sky in remembrance of Didishona. Because, ever since 2013, Ashtami will also always be about her…