Dear Pujo
Committees of Noida,
Heartfelt
thanks for organizing Durga Puja celebrations amidst the chaos and pain which
have defined our lives in the last two years. We have lost much. Death and
disease have ravaged our lives and many of us battling depression, unemployment
or post-COVID symptoms. In these tough times, only Durga Pujo can bring some
joy to our lives. There is a popular saying, if four Bengalis are together, a
Durga Pujo is in the offing. Durga Pujo has played an important social,
cultural, and political role in the lives of Bengalis. Unlike other parts of
the country where Navratra is celebrated with fervor, our Pujo is more about
community, art and culture, and off course fashion, food, and merriment with
worship occupying only a small part of the whole celebrations.
For Bengalis
living outside Bengal, Durga Pujo is an opportunity to retain the connect with their
homeland and introduce Bengali culture and way of life to their children who
otherwise would have little or no exposure to Bengal. As a child, I yearned for
Pujo throughout the year. I participated in sports, art, recitation, music
competitions and off course Tagore’s dance dramas. Interestingly, this time of
the year was also when my Bangla pronunciation was corrected and I got exposed
to Bangla literature and music. All this was off course unthinkable for most of
non-Bengali friends who were just amused with the fact that Puja was time for
celebrations and not a time for strict religious rituals.
I had no
patience with my friends who often said “Chhi chhi. Tum log Navratra pe meat
khate ho. Such an insult to the Goddess”. To us, Maa Durga is mother and
daughter. Can one ever insult one’s mother or one’s daughter? Aren’t these
relationships above such petty things? While others concerned themselves about
how and what to eat to please their Gods, I learnt Kazi Nazrul’s Agomoni songs alongside
Sukanto Bhattacharya’s poems for the quintessential evening programmes. As an
adult, I naturally don’t have patience or respect for those surprised to know
Muslims organize Durga Puja in Calcutta. Not just Muslims, even communist
atheists have always been welcome in Pujo pandals.
While I take
immense pride in the secular, democratic, progressive traditions of Durga pujo,
my heart pains to see that pandemic preparedness has translated into exclusive
pujo pandals and completely destroyed the ‘Sarbojonin’ character of Durga Pujo
which became popular from the early 20th century onwards as part of
the nationalist project. The working class today is scared of visiting pujo
pandals out of very real fears of being driven away and the ‘insult’ associated
with that. ‘Bhog’, an essential feature of Durga Puja festivities, has become a
privileged commodity, given only to those who have the requisite purchasing
power. My head hung in shame when I was carrying four ‘bhog’ parcels and an old
gentleman asked if this was for everyone or for the select few. This is not my
Pujo. Maa Durga is also known as ‘Annapurna’ who feeds her children. Let’s not
do this to ourselves. Let’s not do this to the ‘mother’ and the ‘daughter’ whom
we love so much. Do we want to come across as privileged brats who organize private
festivities for elites during Durga Pujo for sheer entertainment? This grossly
against the ethos of Durga Pujo.
The need to
follow COVID norms is a sham argument because ‘bhandaras’ are happening all over the country and are an essential
feature of Navratra. We have all appreciated the Sikh community for feeding
millions globally during the pandemic. Should we not learn from them? Just why
should we use the pandemic as an excuse to behave like the parasitic Bengali
zamindar class which organised lavish Durga Pujo celebrations along with
expensive food, drinks, and ‘nautch’
to please their colonial masters (who typically graced the occasion as Chief
Guests) while the rest of the population starved? This is the time to
introspect. Eating ‘bhog’ together is
central to the concept of ‘Sarbojonin’ Durga Pujo which can’t be sacrificed,
particularly in current times when so many of our less fortunate brothers and
sisters are hungry. The Bengali who grew up listening to Antara Chowdhury
singing her father, Salil Chowdhury’s, iconic children’s song “Aye Re Chute Aay
Pujor Gondho Eseche” must recall his golden words:
“Amar kachhe ja ache shob tomay debo diye
Aaj hashi khushi mitthe hobe tomake bad
diye”
(I will share whatever
I have with you for happiness is not possible without you)
Regards,
Malancha
