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Essay: Prabir Ghose

Me and my Durga Puja over two centuries

Believe it or not, I have seen Durga Puja for two centuries! The earliest memory I have of it
is a pandal in Beliaghata, near Joramandir – my maternal uncle (meshomashai) had taken
me. He had purchased balloons for me and my brother. It was in the 1950s – 1952 or 1953.
Today, as I stand in 2009 I can claim to have passed through two centuries – the twentieth
and the twenty-first. Nothing much has changed, except – kids today are not happy with
gas filled balloons! They expect much more.

Autumn or Sharat is the best season of the year – it is the time of the Durga Puja, the most
important festival of Bengalis, wherever they may be. The fluffy white clouds move lazily
overhead and there is a nip in the early morning air as the Kaash flowers sway in the
breeze. It is time for Bengalis to return to their roots, as did Goddess Durga from her abode
in the Himalayas – this is her annual visit to her mother’s place, symbolized by the
sprawling paddy fields of Bengal.

Railway Minister Mamata Banerjee knows how to keep people happy – the proof is the
additional trains that she had agreed to run during the 2009 Durga Puja to reduce the rush
and help bring Bengalis scattered all over the country home to celebrate the biggest festival
of the Bengalis. Who knows – the swine flu scare and drought conditions in various parts of
the country in 2009 might prove to be dampeners and rob the festivities of a lot of its
charms.

This brings back pleasant memories of my early life when Kolkata would beckon me during
the festivities and I just could not refuse the attraction. When I was a bachelor, the charm
was different than when I married and, later still, when I became a father. Gradually, the
visits tapered off because of the education of my son – the school examinations used to be
held right in the middle of the Durga Puja and we could only sigh and make do with
memories. Today, I am with my son and his family in Bangalore – I have certainly travelled
a long distance.

I remember an event relating to Durga Puja from when I stayed in Kanpur. In those days,
train reservations could be made only 10 days in advance. The number of tickets was
limited and, in order to get a confirmed reservation, I would go with my friends to the
railway station for a full night stay. We would go with packs of cards and cigarettes
immediately after dinner and occupy the most vantage point right in front of the
reservation counter. That way, we would be the first in queue! And – invariably, we would
be getting tickets for not just ourselves but also of other families that had young girls. The
intention was to be able to enjoy their company during the journey.

Those were the bachelor days of the late 60s and early 70s – a far cry from married life with
kids and associated responsibilities. Most important was the education of the child; the

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authorities in Maharashtra were not bothered about the Durga Puja of Bengalis – to them,
it was the end of one academic session and with it the examinations. While the elders
enjoyed the festivals in the pandals, the kids would go back to school with heavy hearts. Of
course, at the end of the day, it would be a totally festive mood once the night set in. Being
near to Mumbai and being gifted with a handful of talented individuals who knew all the
tricks of the trade, we would spend the evenings basking in the glory of having arranged the
best possible entertainment in the locality for the Dussera. That was the scene till up to the
mid 80s.

Then came the spoilsport in the form of group dances better known as Dandiya. The Durga
Puja of the Bengalis came together with the Navaratri celebrated by Gujaratis and the
Dussera of the North Indians. Their famous Dandiya dances occupied centre stage and
Durga Puja took a back seat. Gradually, the charm of Durga Puja was lost because
Dandiya had a bigger following in the form of easy mingling of the younger generation. It
was an occasion when no questions were asked and boys freely mixed with the girls. And –
to cap it, the Bengali TV channels began to showcase the festivals right from the backyards
of Bengal. Therefore, people began to keep indoors. Exceptions were for the anjali of
Maha-ashtami and the sindoor utsav followed by the Bijoya get together post immersion.

Being from Kolkata, I long to be in the city for the Puja – but, so far, I have been able to
avail the chance only once in the last 25 odd years. My desires of munching mutton rolls as
I weave my way through the crowds in the pandals remain unfulfilled dreams. Also I lose
out on the night safaris through important Puja pandals in the company of close friends
and relatives – they do not understand my frame of mind, they feel I have grown too old
and do not have the stamina, hence must remain away from the hustle and bustle. Tell me
– is 65 years too old?

Prabir Ghose is a reputed blogger who found mention in the Limca

Book of Records 2007; his blog is ‘Rediscovering India’ at
Indiatimes Blogs. He is a Citizen Journalist of Merinews, New
Delhi; writes in Bengali under the penname of Kali Kinkar
Karmakar; published a Bengali quarterly magazine Naba Nalanda
from Nashik; and participated in Kolkata Book Fairs in 1992, 1993
and 1995.

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