Aman hated the October weather. Winter clothes felt too warm and summer clothing just wasn’t adequate.

He walked down the footpath outside the metro, wearing a grey hooded jacket, shapeless, faded jeans, and trainers with frayed laces. A train had just pulled in. Behind him, the commuters were fighting their way out of the station. The concourse was a tangle of cars, taxis and pedestrians, all of them trying to find their way home. A traffic light blinked from red to green but nothing moved. Somebody leant on their horn and the noise blared out, cutting through the cool evening air. Aman drew out his phone and unlocked the screen. Six o’clock; he was half-an-hour early.

Swimming against the stream, he jostled through the crowds as he made his way to the pre-determined meeting spot: a fountain in front of a large mall.

Along the way, he was passed by men, women and children in a hurry to purchase last moment additions to their Puja wardrobes. They had to dress up for four whole days, after all. Aman sat himself down on the concrete railings of the fountain and settled down to wait. The sounds of the street, the chatter of the crowd and the patter of the water fountain merged into a noisy background as dusk covered the city.

The street lamps turned on automatically, the light casting harsh shadows of the pedestrians on the pavement. Aman looked up as he sensed someone approaching. Over the last few days, his senses had improved drastically and he felt a sort of tingle at the back of his mind whenever someone was paying attention to him. Nama had gone into hibernation to digest his gains, leaving him to figure out these new changes by himself. With his limited jurisdiction, he had no access to any sort of advanced soul related information. His progress in decoding the ‘why’ of his soul wasn’t encouraging. He just had to accept that he had developed some sort of sixth sense and roll with it.

Ananya stepped into the pool of light cast by a streetlamp and as if welcoming her arrival, the fountain behind him lit up in many colours, casting him into shadow and illuminating her in a multicolour brilliance.

He looked past her at a sleek, black car parked across the street. He had a strong feeling that he was being watched. “It seems I’m not very trusted,” he said. Following his gaze, Ananya grew embarrassed as she noticed that her chauffeur had yet to leave. She made shooing motions until the car finally drove off. Turning to him, she asked curiously, “With your attire, it’s no surprise that Uncle found you suspicious… Why are you dressed like that, anyway?”

“I’m less eye-catching this way.” Aman drew his hood lower. “Not that it matters with you around.” Ananya glanced around, noticing the abundance of gazes she was drawing. Dressed in a midnight blue salwar and skinny jeans, the mix of traditional and modern attire accentuated her slim figure. Along with her loosely braided hair and white handbag, she portrayed the role of the youthful beauty to perfection. Shrugging, she countered. “You’re the strange one. It’s the day before the puja vacations. Everyone is dressed to impress. You stick out like a sore thumb.”

Aman ignored her and began walking away from the mall. The corner of her eye twitching, she had to take long strides to catch up. What was this treatment? When was the last time anyone had dared to disregard her? “Hey! Don’t just start walking. Tell me what you have planned.”

“Nothing much,” replied Aman as he turned a corner and crossed an area cordoned off by the police. “You go check out the pandal as you ordinarily would while I check for any entrances from the back.”

She raised her brow. “The back? You do realize that the idol is wearing over twenty-eight kilograms of golden jewellery, don’t you? What do you think would happen if you were caught sneaking? I can bail you out, but your cover would be blown and along with it, your chances of entering the institute.”

Aman glanced around to make sure that no one was paying particular attention to him before slipping away. “ Just meet up with me in an hour by the food stalls. Don’t worry. I have my means.”

Ananya snorted disgruntledly and stomped towards the main entrance of the pandal. “Hope so.”

After separating from Ananya, instead of walking towards the pandal, he walked away from it, weaving his way through the crowded thoroughfares filled with pandal-hoppers dressed in their brand-new clothes brimming with excitement for the pujas.

According to Hindu myth, Mahishasura was a demonic buffalo that could change his form however he wished. After many years of penance, Lord Brahma, the creator of the Universe in Vedic mythology, pleased by his devotion, granted him a boon. Overjoyed, Mahishasura asked for eternal life, only to be informed that it was beyond the God’s power to grant. So, he had to draw back one step and ask for invincibility instead. But every boon, according to the laws of the Universe, must have a flaw. So, Mahishasura, in his arrogance stated: “I wish to be undefeated by God, I wish to be undefeated by man, I wish to be unbeatable by even the Divine Trinity, only a woman may harm me. But woman is weak. It is the same as wishing for immortality for as long as I am undefeated, even Yama, the God of Death will bow before my might.”

Thus, it came to be that the demon gained the strength to rival the heavens. Returning to the Netherworld, he captured the throne and became its ruler. Amassing an army of Asuras, he led them to war against the Devas of heaven. By the power of his boon, Mahishasura was unstoppable on the battlefield and the Devas retreated in defeat again and again till, finally, even the Divine Trinity, the supreme Lords of the Past, Present and the Future were forced to acknowledge defeat; for a boon was a contract with the laws of the Universe and even the Trinity, despite all their power, were subordinate to it.

So, began Mahishasura’s reign of terror over the three realms.

At wit’s end, the Devas all gathered together on Kailash, the mountainous abode of Lord Shiva - one of the Trinity. Lord Brahma, remorseful for his action, proposed that since only a woman could defeat the demon and no woman alive was up to the task, they should pool their powers to create one capable of it.

That was how Goddess Durga was born. Created by the Devas and yet, their creator. The being closest to the source of the Universe, she sallied forth on her Divine Lion, her ten hands armed with the weapons symbolic of the foremost of the Gods. She battled the Asuras for four days and four nights and on the last, pierced Mahishasura’s heart with her divine trident, bestowed upon her by Lord Shiva, made in the image of his own weapon.

The festival of Durga Puja was celebrated every year henceforth to remember her victory over the demon. The vanquishing of Evil by the forces of Good.

Dodging the crowds, Aman reached his destination. A multi-storeyed apartment building overlooking the venue of the Durga Puja funded and conducted by Raunak Bose, the owner of the pharmaceutical chain that Sushil believed was involved in supplying a drug cartel. It wasn’t likely that anything shady was going on here but if there was and Sushil himself turned up, it would alert them to the fact that he had caught on to them and result in the trail going cold. So, while Sushil tried to investigate the underworld aspect of the cartel, Aman and Ananya had been tasked with reconnoitring the pandal. A cushy assignment if ever there was one. A boy and a girl just pandal-hopping during the Pujas. If he didn’t know better, he might have suffered from the misconception that the man was setting them up on a date.

Aman knew that some of his classmates lived in that apartment, having overheard one of their conversations. So, he signed in at the entrance, with his purpose set as a social visit. Swiping his student card, he walked out of the security booth and boarded the elevator to the fifth and highest floor. Getting off, he took the stairs to the roof.

At this time of the night, the gate to the roof had been locked. Aman was unperturbed - it was within his expectations.

He touched the lock and ants crawled out of the long sleeves of his hoodie, entering the keyhole. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. Soon, with a ‘click’, the lock fell open. Recalling the ants, he opened the gate and walked onto the roof. From this height, he could see city spread out beneath him, the roads gleaming with the lights of speeding cars. The skyline-blocking buildings glittered with the lights that leaked from their windows, giant billboards screamed their gaudy messages in neon colours and crowds of people thronged the streets.

But the most eye-catching of all was a gigantic construct that had been erected in the middle of the recreational park that lay across the street from the building he was currently on.

Built with a framework of bamboo poles, covered with cloth, decorated with streamers, and resplendent in lights was the pandal. It was a temporary temple that housed the gigantic idol of the Goddess Durga slaying Mahishasura while the Devas looked on.

Over the years, the festival of Durga Puja had evolved, growing ever more lavish until, in modern times, in the city of Kolkata, where it was the most in vogue, every club and organization worth its salt organized a Puja. There were hundreds of pandals of varying sizes scattered over the city, ranging from the size of rooms to ones that dwarfed cathedrals in their grandeur. The pandals might be temporary, destined to be torn down after the four-day festival was over, but they were fireworks, that bloomed their splendour in the instants they existed.

Pandals… and the idols they housed were artistic masterpieces with thousands of artisans and sculptors who made their living solely off the earning the festival brought them. Every pandal competed with the others to attract more footfalls. The more popular the organization’s pandal, the higher their prestige among their peers.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the four days of the Durga Puja was a city-wide, no, to some extent state-wide art exhibition.

In the other parts of the country, the festival was celebrated, but the fervour was incomparable.

Throwing back his hood, Aman closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. The cool night breeze ruffled his hair as he concentrated on his chakra causing the veins around his eyes to bulge slightly. With a low shout, his eyes flew open, his pupils ringed with an obscure brilliance.

Divine Vision.