No matter how much we follow the Gregorian calendar and centre our lives around it, for a Bengali, 14 or 15 April is not just another day of the year. Rather, it marks the onset of the Bengali calendar and the advent of the Bengali New Year: Poila Baishakh or Noboborsho.

Waking up early in the morning, without hitting the snooze button even once, and with the smell of freshly prepared ‘luchi’ and ‘alur dom’ wafting into our bedroom, we remember our grandmothers and mothers greeting us with, “Aj Poila Baishakh, bhalo bhabe theko, bochor bhalo jabe” (Today is Poila Baishakh; be good today, and the rest of the year will also be good).

While the dynamics of how Noboborsho was celebrated through generations might have undergone a change now, what remains the same in every Bengali’s mind and heart is the ardour and joy of new beginnings.

Although the longing to visit different shops and come out with hands full of sweet boxes and Bengali calendars might have been replaced with the desire to visit restaurants braving long queues, it is just to relive the cherishable moments of enjoying the essence of home-cooked Bengali meals.

Poila Baishakh still celebrates the spirit of new beginnings, familial bonds, and hope. Marked with traditions that are almost dwindling and on the verge of evanescing, metamorphosing into practices that suit the emerging generations, The Statesman got talking to individuals about what Poila Baishakh meant to them or means to them, and how celebration on this day has changed over time.

“The traditions and practices that were correlated with the essence of Noboborsho have completely changed now. How we used to celebrate when I was a kid and how it is celebrated now is not the same anymore. I remember when I was a child, Poila Baishakh meant waking up early in the morning, donning new clothes, and going to the puja ghar, where Ma would be busy performing her puja. For us back then, getting one set of new clothing during Poila Baishakh and Durga Puja was the norm, making it even more special. The best part I remember was slowly trying to steal a laddoo from the plate. I don’t know how, but my mother always caught me. Naboborsho also meant mothers spending the day in the kitchen cooking a delectable Bengali spread. And during the evenings, I remember holding my parents’ hands and going to the jewellery shop and ‘mudikhana’ to open ‘haal khata’ in lieu of getting sweet packets and having a chilled glass of juice.”

Santosh Mukherjee, 84, retired banker

“I used to wake up to the smell of ‘Radhaballavi’ being made at home. While no special pujas were performed on that day, it was a must to wear new clothes and seek blessings from the elders. I remember going to the bazaar with my father to get meat and fish. The menu for Poila Baishakh was different because the day was different from the rest. Because I love ‘dhoka’, it was a must during that day. Small things used to make us happy, like how my mother used to cook two different varieties of fish instead of one. ‘Payesh’ (kheer) was a must on that day, along with ‘mishti doi’. The evenings were spent going to the various shops, knowing no matter whether we bought or not, we would be getting a plate full of sweets to gorge on.”

Noopur Ghosh, 72, homemaker

“Poila Baishakh was even more special to me than my birthday. I remember that we used to clean the whole house a week before. Waking up at the break of dawn, we used to don new clothes, take blessings from the elders, and get money as gifts. My father had a logistics business, and that is where I used to spend the rest of the day. From preparing for the puja to handling everything in the kitchen because we had a huge gathering in the afternoon with all the employees, it was an exhausting but exciting day for my family, cousins, and everyone. And while we never really went to the various shops to open ‘haal khata’ and get sweet packets because we were busy handling our own, at the end of the day, when we went back home, I remember forgetting all my exhaustion and seeing a plate of piping hot rice and mutton kasha in front of me.”

Sonali Roy, 53, homemaker and business owner

“While my childhood Poila Baishakh signified spending the day at my father’s business, packaging sweets, and taking part in the puja, as I grew up and became a part of the corporate world, somehow Poila Baishakh for me evolved as well. We only have Poila Baishakh as a holiday if it falls on a weekend now, so if it is the other way around, we spend the day attending the Poila Baishakh gala and lunch with our clients. Now, I am just a visitor at my father’s shop because it is hard to find time and spend the whole day there.”

Shikta Sarkar, 32, corporate employee

“I have heard about ‘haal khata’ from my parents and how they used to visit shops and receive sweet packets. However, I have never done it myself. Poila Baishakh, for me, means waking up to the smell of a delectable Bengali breakfast. Also, the various Poila Baishakh special lunch spreads at various restaurants are hard to miss out on, so usually it’s me and my friends going for one such Bengali gastronomic extravaganza every year and trying out everything from ‘pulao’,’mutton kosha’, ‘bhetki paturi’, ‘kofta’ and much more.”

Sayondeep Choudhury 23, student