An open letter to Durga Pujo Committess in Noida

 

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 20^th 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