The Pujo that was …
Explore the vibrant and nostalgic celebration of Durga Puja in Kolkata, a festival that transcends religious boundaries and captures the essence of Bengali culture. Join the author on a journey through the streets, pandals, and flavors of Pujo, reminiscing about cherished memories from the past.
“You can take the craze of Diwali in Delhi, Christmas in London, Summer Carnival in Rio, Valentine’s Day in Paris, and add it to the month-long madness of the Olympics or the World Cup …. and cram all that into a span of five days, and still you wouldn’t know what you are missing if you haven’t been in Kolkata during the Durga Puja”- Vir Sanghvi
We Bengalis do take a few things pretty seriously – the Sunday ritual of customary “mangsho bhaat” followed by a “bhaat ghoom”, endless analysis of any random topic under the sun (from Platini to Putin and Marx to Messi) abundant love for food and of course our grandest annual celebration, the Durga Puja. For us, it has always been much more than a religious festival, rather far beyond it. It is an amazing assault on your senses, where the beat of the ‘dhak’ mixes with the cacophony of the maddening traffic, complimented by the overwhelming yet endearing excitement of the hoi polloi. It is perhaps the only festival, where the joy and thrill of the anticipation of the advent of the Puja almost matches the actual joy experienced in the 5 days of the Puja itself.
During our adolescence, we all waited with bated breath for the classes to get over, and the vacation to start with the countdown beginning with Birendra Kishore Bhadra’s mesmerizing “Debi Agomoni” on Mahalaya. We had our new sets of clothes mostly stitched by the ‘friendly neighbourhood’ local tailor, later replaced by the baggy trousers from the ‘swanky’ outlets of Weekender and Warehouse. Another element that was an integral part of our Puja was the ‘Cap Pistol’. We had our defense committee armed with ample pistols and caps, to prevent any ‘inevitable invasion’ from our fellow schoolkids belonging to adjoining localities or ‘paras’. Needless to say, it was all in good bonhomie.
Kolkata Puja cannot be complete without the customary ‘Pandal Hopping’ – the conquest of South and North Kolkata, typically on separate days. The journey was meticulously planned weeks in advance and it was well aided by the ‘Asian Paints’ Puja map in the leading dailies. A proper project plan was laid down highlighting the “must-see” pandals followed by the “should be on your checklist” and ‘may skip” ones. During our school and college days, it was Md. Ali Park, College Square, Santosh Mitra Square, Shimla Bayam Samity et al which were the highlights of the North, while Ekdalia, Jodhpur Park, Babubagan, Jodhpur Park, Park Circus were some of the showstoppers in the Southern part. The most exciting part of the Pujo was perhaps the ‘whole night’ pandal hopping that we had with our close friends. It typically commenced in the late evenings and ended in the wee hours of early morning, which inevitably left us physically drained but emotionally content. Our happiness quotient was directly proportional to the percentage of ‘must see’ pandals that we sis manage to cover as a part of the original list.
Food was (and still is) another inseparable and intrinsic part of our Pujo days, with thousands of makeshift stalls churning out ‘Chilly Chicken with Chowmein’ and ‘Egg Rolls’ (albeit half-cooked at many a time) ruling the roost. Those were the Pre-buffet days and the ‘Pujo Special Menus’ which are typically the order of the present day, were conspicuously absent. I fondly remember our visits to the Royal Restaurant and munching on the delicious (and oily!) Mutton Biryani and the famed Mutton Chaamp, while an evening (typically Ashtami on most occasions) was typically reserved for a coveted visit at the Peter Cat restaurant (Kwality served as a ‘not so welcome’ alternate option) for the delectable taste of the Chelo Kebab. My spirit was at an unsurmountable high during Panchami and Shosthi, hitting the ‘upper circuit’ during Saptami and Astami, and slowly plummeting on the final two days of Nabami and Dashami, where it all ended with the immersion of the Devi Durga in the Ganges (rather Hooghly) river.
Today, the Durga Puja Durga Puja has been declared as an “Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity” by UNESCO in 2021 and has become a global phenomenon. It is now celebrated with much vigour, passion, pomp, and grandeur in Kolkata, India, and the rest of the world. I have witnessed Pujo celebrations across the globe notably the ‘weekend pujo’ in North America. Today, the Pujo organizers present us with brilliant Pujo ‘themes’ that they showcase in their respective pujas with immense pride. But somewhere deep in my heart, I still grope for those younger days …
I miss the moments of limping on my band-aid-laden feet with my friends (a direct consequence of wearing newly bought sandals and shoes), I miss slurping on the roadside food like a true glutton. I miss the excitement of Anjali on Astami, dressed in freshly ironed Kurta (or rather Punjabi) while sheepishly marvelling at the best-looking girl in the crowd decked up in all her glory in ‘Lalpere’ saree. I miss the intense ‘cap pistol’ skirmishes with our friends from other ‘paras’ in a bid to safeguard our territory. I miss the wild anticipation of the Pujo as the vacation date neared. I miss marvelling at my beloved Tilottoma with my own eyes rather than the lens of today’s smartphones and I miss marking the calendar on Dashami and calculating the days left for the next year’s Pujo.
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