It was almost October. Back home in Kolkata, the streets were lighting up for Durga Pujo, the biggest festival of the year. The city would be humming with the sound of the dhaak and the rhythmic hammering of bamboo poles as pandals rose like palaces from the dust.

Meera looked out of the bay window and saw it was raining. Nothing new, just another gloomy English afternoon. She sighed and turned back to her laptop.

Then she felt the nudge of a cold wet nose on her toes. It was Marley, her dog, demanding her usual twelve noon lunchtime walk. Unable to resist those puppy eyes, Meera grabbed her raincoat, clipped on Marley’s leash, and stepped out.

As they followed their usual route from Stacey Avenue towards Marina Drive in Wolverton, the damp air felt heavy.

But something caught Meera’s eye. Her heart began to race with an unexpected excitement. There, swaying against a wooden fence in an overgrown front garden, were tall, silver-white feathery reeds.

‘Kash Phool?’ she whispered in disbelief. ‘In England?’

In Bengal, Kash Phool is the first sign of autumn. It is considered the herald of the homecoming for Goddess Durga. Vast white fields of the grass bloom across the Indian countryside like regal fans, as though the earth itself is preparing to welcome their daughter home. Seeing them here, in a quiet corner of England, felt almost surreal. It was as if a secret message was sent across the ocean. ‘Maa Durga Ashche,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Mother Durga is coming.’

She couldn’t resist pulling out her phone to take a selfie in front of the stranger’s garden, with the white shimmering backdrop behind her beaming smile. The dull ache of homesickness was suddenly replaced by renewed energy and warmth. Suddenly, she was no longer just walking her dog through a rainy town in Milton Keynes. She was walking through memories of Kolkata, in anticipation of Agomoni – the arrival of Durga Pujo.

For the first time in weeks, she felt excited. Truly excited. She couldn’t wait to get home and look up the local Durga Pujo celebrations planned for the year. This festival meant far more to her than just tradition. It carried memories, belonging, identity, comfort, nostalgia, and a living connection to the home she missed every day.

Standing there in the rain, she realised something strangely beautiful. Sometimes happiness finds us in the places we least expect. And sometimes, home is not a place we leave behind, but a feeling we carry quietly within us, in our hearts, wherever we go.

Glossary:
Dhaak – drums
Durga Pujo – a spectacular 10-day Hindu festival that honours Goddess Durga and celebrates her victory over the demon Mahishasura, symbolising the victory of the good over evil
Pandals – temporary temples