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Shayon still had dreamy eyes when Ma called out, “Wake up, it’s time for school!”

It was a beautiful autumn morning. Shayon loved autumn. Even before the calendar showed October, she could feel it in the air. The sweet fragrance of fresh Shiuli flowers filled the garden. Soft mist floated over the road. White Kaash phool swayed gently in the fields.

Autumn meant only one thing — Durga Pujo was coming.

And today was Mahalaya.

From somewhere far away, the sound of Durga stuti floated through the morning air. The familiar voice made Shayon’s heart feel warm and happy. It felt like magic had entered every Bengali home.

Durga Ma was her favourite. Durga Pujo meant holidays. It meant new clothes. It meant lights and pandals.

Most importantly, it meant Dadu was coming to town.

Shayon lived in the steel city of Tata Nagar. Every year during Pujo, the city sparkled like a bride dressed in lights and colours.

And Shayon could hardly wait.

Shayon was a little extra cheerful that day as she stepped into her classroom. She loved her school.

Deepa, Sindhu and Oritro were already waiting for her near the last bench.

“Shayon! Over here!” Deepa whispered excitedly.

Everyone was eager to share their vacation plans.

Deepa was going to Kolkata to meet her cousins.
Sindhu’s Masi was flying in all the way from London.
Oritro had made a long list of pandals he wanted to visit. He even took out a small notebook to show them.

Shayon could hardly wait for her turn.

“My Dadu is coming!” she announced proudly. “He always brings the best gifts. And this time, we are going to play carrom every evening!”

Her eyes sparkled as she imagined it.

Just then, the morning assembly bell rang loudly.

The children groaned for a second — and then smiled at each other. After all, Pujo mela and holidays were just around the corner…