There is something about the month of October which has been fascinating me ever since I can remember. It is not only because this is the month of my birth. It is definitely much more than that. I am sure that even if I had been born in any other month of the year, October would have been my favourite.
The many festivals which this month brings, the change in weather after the rainy season gets over, the beautiful evenings and mornings, the sharp nip in the air, which tells us that winter is at our door, the enthusiasm, joy and hope which the navratras bring. All this is there, of course. But for me, there are many memories, of childhood and youth, linked to this wonderful pre-winter month which have always given it a special place in my heart and life.
Visiting the Durga Puja pandals with my family as a child and wandering about for hours at night, witnessing the worship, the song and dance and watching black and white Bengali films being screened there (without understanding a word) is a vivid memory that this month brings back every year. Holding my grandmother’s hand, I would even then be aware of that special October breeze that heralds winter, my favourite time of the year. And then there would be the Dussehra mela in the neighbourhood, which would be an attraction in no way less than the Durga Puja. The dhanush baans (pink and silver paper covered bows and arrows made with small sticks), the toys that appeared so attractive and the various stalls selling chaat, candy floss, imli and chooran — all these made the mela look like a small heaven to us kids. But the most beautiful thing about such festivities which I remember clearly was the weather. And till today, it is the backdrop of this amazing weather, which makes the festivals and all other activities appear so good to me.
Birthday celebrations (my own and one of my closest friend’s) added to the fun and joy October brought. We used to begin planning many weeks ahead of the birthdays as to what we would buy for each other and which flavour the cakes would be. October was, indeed, quite eventful in our lives.
And then there would be the autumn visit (though a very brief one) of the family to the hills. This was always before my birthday. My parents believed that the hill stations looked most beautiful in October and, thus, we would not usually go to the hills in summer. And even if we did, the autumn visit was never missed. The drive up from the valley becomes more scenic and enjoyable in this season. No danger of landslides too. The pink and orange autumn skies, the chilly evenings and the clear nights make the mountains appear even more romantic than they are. Even now, my favourite time to go up to Mussoorie is October. The summer crowds take away from the beauty of the hill town in some way. It appears far more serene and scenic when seen in the October dawns and twilight. As if the town is also enjoying the mellow season of autumn, rejuvenating itself before the Christmas and New Year crowds come in. Monsoon and autumn give ample time to the hills to refresh themselves.
Today, the autumn still brings happiness to me. But it is not the effervescent joy which one experienced in one’s earlier years. It is a quieter joy, much muted, toned down. life has shown me its many colours down all these autumns. Things have been tough and many an October, I may not have even realised when the month came and went away. It simply did not matter what time of the year it was. However, it is October once again now and I have yet another opportunity to be aware of its many beautiful blessings. Once again, the child in me wants to return to those Durga Puja pandals, those small-scale Dussehra melas with their mini Ravanas, those evenings spent in the hills with my parents and brother, those little birthday parties with neighbours and friends, those autumn mornings spent talking to my father in the balcony over a cup of tea and cookies. Yes, October brings back a flood of memories. Sad and sweet. From various phases of life.