Down the memory lane: When simple joys wove a world of wonder
Now thriving, Jolaibari in South Tripura was an obscure and sleepy village back in 1960-70s. Life, a quiet symphony, moved at an unhurried pace.
In those days, even the hum of a car’s engine carried the thrill of the extraordinary. The sound of a bus approaching the bazaar was enough to make children drop everything, rush to the roadside and jump in joy, wavering at the bus, just as crowds now gather on the barricaded roadside for visiting leaders.
But nothing could rival the magic of a horse-riding clay artisan, sound of Dhak, peculiar Kalabau and Hajak lights during Durga puja in those days.
Those who were children in the 1960s and 70s are now in their sixties. Many of them, scattered across towns and cities, often recall their childhood Puja days in Jolaibari with a wistful smile.
For them, Durga Puja was not just a festival—it was a season of joy, wonder, and togetherness that no modern gadget or theme-based spectacle can replicate.
It was a much cherished festival that transformed the sleepy village into a realm of wonder, devotion, and a touch of mystery.
When ‘Sarat’ whispered of Durga puja, spontaneous joyfulness and pure devotion swept through. Autumn mornings would come alive with shiuli flowers carpeting the earth, their fragrance mingling with the fog.
Bamboo groves swayed in cool breezes, as if nature herself was preparing to welcome Maa Durga. For children, the nearly month-long Puja vacation meant no books, no strict schedules—only freedom, games, and unrestrained laughter.
Life was pretty simple at that time even though ‘Bhuter Bhoy’ (fear of ghost) dominated in the minds of many the-then kids in most of the evenings.
Electricity had not reached Jolaibari then. After sunset, the entire village would sink into a hushed darkness, broken only by the flickering light of Hurricanes. The dim glow cast long shadows on mud walls, making the nights mysterious – sometimes even frightening.
Kids clung to their mothers or grandmothers, convinced that ghosts lurked just behind them. Fear and thrill walked hand in hand, making those nights unforgettable.
But during the Durga Puja, ‘Bhuter Bhoy’ could not dampen the spirits of children as the hazak lamps transformed the mandap into a glowing haven in the evening.
Chandan Sarkar, a retired Government employee recalled his unique childhood memories of durga puja of those years.
“During the 1960s and 70s, four Durga Pujas were celebrated in Jolaibari. Each had its own story”, he said.
The Nath community, who traded in handloom cloth and yarn, organized one Puja. Another came from the other merchant communities.
A third one was held at Basudeb Bari – a community puja where the entire locality would come together. Later, the Nath traders shifted their Puja to the house of Ananta Nath in Kakulia, North Jolaibari.
The grandest celebration of the time, however, was hosted by wealthy trader Jogendra Bhaumik at his Sagardhepa residence.
Eventually, the Ramakrishna Sevashram in West Jolaibari also started a Puja, and by the late 1970s, the festival spread to surrounding settlements. Each was simple yet elegant and alive with devotion and joy.
But it was the arrival of Bura, the clay artisan from Bhuratali, that would set children’s hearts racing. Bura was no ordinary craftsman.
The maverick artist dressed like a king with a sword at his waist would often arrive riding on horseback. His dramatic style matched his craft.
The artisan shaped Durga’s form with his bare hands. No molds, no tools—just fingers that danced over the clay, crafting the serene face or intricate ornaments of the deity. His skill truly mesmerized the children of that time.
Many claim that the craftsman created the first Durga idol at Sagardhepa and that year he kept his horses at the house of Makhan Biswas, where he also stayed.
Two local artisans, Ashu Karigar and Birendra Karigar, were also well known for sculpting idols in those days.
Serene glory of Ma Durga in “Ek Chala” with HER four divine children – Kartik, Ganesh, Saraswati, and Laxmi would keep everyone awestruck amidst the beats of the dhak and the clang of kanshi.
With sticks and old tins, children mimicked the drummers. Their “orchestra” was a cacophony of joy, drowned out only by the rhythmic chants of the priests.
Equally intriguing was Kala Bau—a banana plant wrapped in a red-bordered saree. To young minds, this was mysterious, sometimes funny, sometimes frightening.
Endless giggles and queries about this mysterious Kala Bau was a common thing among the children. Some dared each other to touch her saree “trunk” when the elders weren’t looking. Google baba or Chatgpt was not there to fulfill a child’s curiosity about Kala Bau – so, it remained mysterious for many years.
And after the Bijoya Dasami, another excitement awaited—the plays staged by the local drama troupe, Tripureswari Amateur Jatra Party.
Tickets were sold for the Jatra party, and the proceeds went into developing Basudeb Bari. For the children, jatra nights, well illuminated with the help of hajaks, were second only to Puja itself—a taste of theatre that lingered long after the final act.
These hajak lamps were rented from Udaipur. During the jatra Party, hajaks were tied with ropes, and from time to time the ropes would be loosened to lower them, the lamps would be pumped, and then pulled back up like hoisting a flag – what a mystery, children would wonder!
Believe it or not even a photo of a hajak in internet still rekindles the bitter-sweet childhood memories for many.
Years passed, and Jolaibari changed. By the mid-1980s, modernity started to sweep in. Inspired by clubs in Manu Bazar—Azad Hind and Deshbandhu—the Basudeb Bari Puja Committee introduced theme-based pujas.
Slowly, dazzling pandals, neon lights, and modern decorations replaced the simple hazak-lit celebrations.
For many, those “pale-looking” traditional Pujas became a fading memory, like a hologram slipping away into the present-day digital noise.
Today, Jolaibari is flourishing and no longer the remote village it once was. But for those who grew up in the 60s and 70s, Durga Puja will always remain something beyond dazzling decorations and big budgets.
Still the memories of shiuli-strewn paths, Bura’s horse kicking up dust, the dhak’s pulse, Kala Bau’s mysterious sway and Ek Chala form of Maa Durga are vivid in their minds.
For them, Durga Puja will remain a time machine—a portal to a world where joy was simple, yet thrilling, and Maa Durga’s arrival turned a sleepy village into a kingdom of wonder and devotion. (First published in Tripura Times Puja Special)
