Durga Puja and me

I don’t believe in religion and their rituals. But anyone who has lived in Bengal or attended any Durga puja celebration even outside Bengal will know that these celebrations have very little to do with religion for most people. It is about taking time off from mundane daily life, dressing up, meeting friends and extended family, eating to heart’s content and so on. So being born a Bengali, Durga puja has been an integral part of my life. But with time my feelings towards this festival has changed again and again.

When I was a kid Durga puja meant lots of new clothes, no studies for 5 days and spending all these days in the Bengali Club of wherever we were living those days. My mom would dress me up early in the morning and then I was free to run around all day with the few Bengali friends I had in these places. It meant eating all kinds of good food and attending the cultural programs. The last part was kind of boring but since my mom always performed, so I was kind of proud to be given front row seats and all and stayed put for few hours without giving my parents any trouble. Overall it seemed to be really ‘special time’ and I used to eagerly wait for these few days of the year.

Things changed as I grew up and by the time I was in high school and college, the ‘special time’ feeling was lost. In spite of living in Calcutta at that time, I had absolutely no interest in participating in the madness going around. I still got lots of new clothes but going shopping in the crowded stored seemed like a crazy idea and the only reason I went shopping is because my mom dragged me to the shops. Having no classes was fun especially in college when I got full one-month holiday!! During the 5 days of puja I would mostly sit at home watching tv or reading Puja barshikis (big fat compilation of brand new novels, short and long stories, poetry, articles etc. that the various publishing houses bring out at this time of the year). At night I would sit in my 3^rd floor balcony in my PJs, watching the mad crowd passing by. Joining them seemed like the stupidest thing to do, and only severe blackmails from my parents and close friends could occasionally make me go out for pandal-hopping or eating out.

Then I moved to US to join grad school. Attending Indian functions was not at all on my mind when I was excitedly packing my bags before moving. But after 2 months of moving, it was Durga puja time. And suddenly I felt really sad that I was sitting in a class or lab and I can’t go shopping for new clothes, I can’t go out with friends for pandal hopping, I can’t eat all the junk street food. To my own surprise I was missing the crowd, the noise and the whole madness.  I spent all day looking at online puja tours of the famous pujas in Calcutta, the same ones that I never bothered to go to when I was living there.

Then some seniors in my university mentioned that they are driving down some 2 hours to attend the nearest puja the next weekend. Even before they could ask me, I was totally ready to go with them. Luckily I found two old salwar kameezes at the bottom of my suitcase. Got up early on a Saturday morning, wore one of the two clothes I found, rode with my friends all the way to the neighboring state and spent an ENTIRE DAY at that place. The most amazing part to me was that I was thoroughly enjoying the Americanized version of the well-known festival. All the ridiculously over-dressed people who changed clothes every few hours (as 5 days of puja was compressed into 1 day), one whole afternoon of Bengali cultural program with kids reciting Bengali poetry in American accent, the insane amount of food every few hours (again because of the compressed schedule) and even some of the religious rituals…everything seemed lovely, cute and fun. The ‘special time’ feeling was back.

 

But as the years passed everything seemed routine, predictable and boring. Every year I made sure to bring Indian clothes from home (even made others bring some the years when I couldn’t go home) and drove hours to attend the nearest ceremony, but all that seemed to be more because of not wanting to be counted as an outcast among the few good Bengali friends I had in the small town. I didn’t feel sad about being at work on the actual puja days or I didn’t spend time online watching the webcam tours anymore. The ‘special time’ feeling started to wear off again.

 

Its that time of the year again. I moved 2 months ago to a new city. I don’t have any Bengali friends here. And suddenly once again I’m sad. This weekend I did google search and discovered that there are 4-5 pujas within 50 miles radius of my home throughout this month (one even on the actual dates instead of a compressed weekend version!), I have one suitcase packed with Indian clothes accumulated from last few years, but I have no Bengali friends to go with. And suddenly once again I feel sad. Since last two days I’m missing all the things I did in that 1-day compressed Americanized Durga Puja during my grad school days. Some famous Bengali band was performing in one of the puja venues here last night. I felt sad that I am not attending it even though I don’t even know a single song by them and I’m pretty sure I won’t care about them even if I knew one.  But I kept playing random Bengali songs on youtube all of Sunday morning.

I think this has somewhat scared J. He gave a feeble hint that he might be willing to go with me to one of these places next week. Poor J…he avoids such social functions much more than I do. He doesn’t even go to Onam celebrations in spite of the temptations of his favorite Malayali food! Let’s see what happens next weekend.

Happy festive times everyone!