Autumn in West Bengal: A Season of Festivals and Beauty

Autumn in West Bengal: A Season of Festivals and Beauty

Autumn in West Bengal: A Season of Festivals and Beauty

Autumn in West Bengal: A Season of Festivals and Beauty


[Notes: Uniqueness of Autumn in the cycle of seasons; its beauties in the world of Nature; a season of festivals; holiday mood of the poverty-stricken Bengali people; joy coupled with sadness)


Autumn occupies a unique place in the cycle of seasons. It's preceded and succeeded by the sesons which are unwelcome to the poverty-stri-cken Benglees. The rainy season which comes before is both a blessing and a curse. Winter which follows it is a season of sufferings to the poor. But Autumn is a season of unalloyed joy.


With the appearance of Autumn the rains take leave. The sky gets clear and temperature goes down. Now and then light patches of clouds are seen to float lazily across the sky like little fairy boats. In the morning the dew twinkles on the grass like so many gems. At night moonlight bathes the world. Indeed the beauty of the season is the beauty of the moon which shines most brightly during the season. In autumn everything looks gay and bright. The fields look joyful with green paddy.Ponds brim with water and the lotus blooms in them. Sephali flowers blossom and thier sweet scent is wafted all around.


Autumn is a season of festivals. Durga Puja, the greatest Hindoo festival comes off in this season. Other festivals of Autumn are Lakshmi Puja, Diwali (Kali Puja), Muharram etc. In this season, especially during the festivals the people are seized with a holiday mood. They forget their poverty, they cease from working and betake themselves to enjoy their life as best as they could. Schools, colleges and offices remain closed for sometime and many go to the places of historical interest to pass their holidays. Autumnal joy is coupled with sadness. Along with joy it brings us the consciousness that like every earthly thing it is evanescent and that it will soon be replaced by winter, a season of pain, and

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Irisha Tania
"আমি সেই মেয়ে, যে শব্দে বাঁচে। কলম আমার অস্ত্র, আর কাগজ আমার স্বপ্নের আকাশ। প্রতিটি অনুভব, প্রতিটি চিন্তা আমি সাজিয়ে রাখি অক্ষরের গাঁথুনিতে। কখনো গল্পে, কখনো কবিতায়, আবার কখনো নিঃশব্দের ভেতরে। আমি লিখি, কারণ লেখার মাঝে আমি নিজেকে খুঁজে পাই। …

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