During my trips to out of my state in the past and in the present too, when I am tapped with
questions like, ‘Where are you from?’, and me, talking promptly – Odisha. He/she
goes silent, or mouths safely, ‘Where is it exactly? . . . ‘As I know, it’s in Bengal?’ I follow a silence
of condolence, but I do not for what – the person’s lack of knowledge or the
Odisha (I belong) beyond recognition.
I am ashamed of being asked so, even more ashamed for having
been silent. I so must answer to the uninformed people, and to the ashamed me.
Well, Odisha is Odisha. The state on the eastern coastal
belt of India, with a sea-line of 450 KM. Hope, you passed in preparatory
Indian Geography. Okay, we have hatrick cyclones, frequent floods and more. Bengal
is our worse-spring of Potatoes. Andhra avenges our fondness for fish. Hope, you
watch news ever.
Oh my dear homonymous, you still don’t get it. It’s our Odisha.
But, everything related to it, is not again or another Odisha. We chatter Odia.
We dance Odishi. Kalinga is our history. Utkal is our pride.
Thanks to your ignorance! While thinking of all possible
ways to explain the Odisha to you, I realize that I love Odisha, even though I
know I hate it at a good number of instances. Had Lord Jagannath given a dropdown
option, I would have customized my state of birth and growing up. I thought
about it, I sank inside, I would have missed the land of the most laughable
English-Hindi-accented Pakhala groups. I dream of a dazzling life at UK or USA,
then I suddenly long for a life of Rebati – drizzling, darkness, grandmother,
croaking frogs, smoky chullah, soft-sad melody on the only available radio set
from an unknown distance. From the Sundays of Facebook, Shopping Mall, Multiplexes
to the Sundays of Sri Krishna, fishing, and monkeying around. Guess, Odisha
reads Fakir Mohan and Manoj Das. It makes me/you miss our/their Odisha if any
Odia forgets to love Odisha in a long time.
Odisha is Jagannath. But, I hated the Puri Pandas, when, the
last time I visited, my Buddhist Arunachali Roommate was denied an entry to the
Sri Mandir. In theory, our Lord is known to be the Lord of the world/Jagat, in
practice, He is of the Pandas, by the Pandas, for the Pandas. I am sure our
Lord wishes getting globalized. By the end of the trip, Konark and Chilika are
the game changers.
By Statistics, the down, the poor, the undeveloped are
Odisha. Let me tell you, we enjoy a stable government; our government also
loves stability. Wait, if there is a crime, there is a defense. “Slow and
Steady Wins the Race.’’ We may someday! Just know it!
In any type of crowd, an Odia woman stands out, draping her
dupata over her head. I dislike it more often. But what to do, I love Rajo,
Khudurukuni, Kamar Purnami and new dresses. Tired of brands, Mom’s old Pata
smells fresh. Ethnicity, elegance, traditionalism is the fashions that never go
out-dated. Still, the act of acceptance is a sign of a growing culture. I hope
we keep changing for good.
I hope I give you an idea about what/how/where is Odisha.
Well, I can tell more of my love-hate relationship with my Odisha, maybe
sometime later. Each time the steam engine runs into the land, that looks
greener, brighter, windier, of which you have no idea, feels home. In case you
know what it feels to be home…
Welcome to Odisha!?
