Friday, 20 February 2026
What women want
Sunday, 8 February 2026

Happy New Year!
This is my first post this year. Hence this delayed greetings!
A month through the new year, I flipped open my favourite nut boxes of memories and settled on a trip down memory lane almost around this time last year. The occasion was the 196th foundation of the Brahmo Samaj in Calcutta (now Kolkata), established through a monotheistic movement, whose pioneers were instrumental in ushering the Bengal Renaissance about two hundred years ago. It was celebrated in select locations in Kolkata, (also observed in Mumbai, where there are Sindhi Brahmos as well), within certain buildings that would house our Brahmo Samaj from day one. During this time, the buildings look resplendent in yellow and orange marigolds. These buildings are mostly located in North Kolkata and going by the popular parlance, are 'super senior citizens'. Over a hundred years old, these edifices are maintained well, at least the one I went to. The wooden seats are just like the pews you see in the church. There are no kneelers though. I am still hung up on those huge louvered windows (khorkhori janala). Wooden, slatted and usually green-painted shutters are an integral part of Bengali architecture introduced during the British colonisation. My house in Kolkata still has these louvered shutters. They are so environment- friendly. You lift up the wooden slats to get some fresh air and put it back when the temperature gets cooler. Voila!!
As you, my esteemed readers guessed correctly, like the slats, Brahmo Samaj also came up in the colonial era. Programmes under the banner of Maghotsav started a little before the foundation day and continued beyond its birthday for a few more days. It is called Maghotsav because the entire festival falls in the month of Magh. It is the tenth month in the Bengali calendar. People would love to dress on those days. We would put on our favourite attires. I wore a green silk saree when I reached 18 and applied some make-up, specially, foundation and lipstick. Those days, I would never step out without my Lakme lipstick. I still remember, one of my French teachers in Alliance Francaise would affectionately call me 'the lipstick girl'.
Since our festival would inevitably fall in January, winter only added to the charm. It was about a week long carnival, complete with songs, sports, sale of clothes, books, bags, jewelleries, pickles, juices and jams. Another fetching aspect of this festivity was the morning processions with pedestrians singing Brahmosangeet. Ofcourse this was when we were kids!




