For Bengalis, Bhadra’s baritone signals the beginning of four days ofnon-stop fun and frolic. Durga Pujo, around which the life of a Bengalifamily’s life revolves, has arrived. For the next four days, every chore andhabit that marks the daily schedule will have to be rejigged. A true Bengalimust show up in time for the morning Anjali—the only true pujo component inDurga Pujo, lasting a mere 15 minutes.
Once the customary pujo for the day is over and blessings received from MaDurga, groups of families and friends will go on a pandal-hopping spree. It is acommon joke in the Bengali community that it only takes two Bengalis to start anargument, three to start a political party and four to start a Durga Pujo.Almost every neighbourhood has its own Pujo. The dissensions and defectionswithin the community sometimes lead to two or three Pujos in the sameneighbourhood.
By noon the pandal-hoppers head back to their own Pujo pandal. It is bhogtime – a community lunch distributed by the mashis and meshos of theneighbourhood. The fare is different each day. The first day of the festivitybeing Saptami, only khichuri and ghanto is in offer. But there is somethingextra special about the bhog khichuri, the home khichuri never tastes as good.No one minds queueing up. Putting up a friendly fight to get an extra helping isthe day’s sporting activity. Everyone punts on the Ashtomi’s bhog menu -will it be pulao-chhanar dalna or luchi-chholar daal?
The only lifestyle pattern the Bengalis share with the Romans is theafternoon siesta. Moreover, this is Pujo-time; batteries have to be rechargedfor the evening show. Preferably, a fresh set of clothes will be taken out forthe sandhya aroti. Care has to be taken that the specially put-together pujowardrobe lasts out the four-day jamboree. Boro-mashi wore a jamdani silk sari inthe morning and instead of the parar-pujo had visited the Kalibari pujo foranjali. For the sandhya aroti she plans to trade her jamdani silk withchhoto-mashi’s katha stitch sari and go to Kalibari again because some famousdhakis have come from Calcutta for the dhunochi naach. She will wear the jamdaniagain for the Ashtomi anjali which she plans to offer at the parar pujo.
Chhoto-mashi can’t ask for a better exchange offer for the evening.Bablooda’s younger brother, who has just landed a plum job at an MNC, wasintroduced to chhoto-mashi in the morning after the anjali at the parar-pujo.She senses that Bablooda’s brother, whose name she can’t recollect at themoment, could be a prospective match — not for anyone else but herself! It’sa tempting proposition, what with his five-figure salary in the new job.Chhoto-mashi learned from the tête-à-tête she had with Bablooda’s brotherwhile queueing up for prasad after the morning anjali that Bablooda’s brotherwill be going to the Cantonment pujo in the evening for a Purno Das Baulconcert. Chhoto-mashi herself is not very fond of Baul singing but she tellsherself that she could always acquire the taste, specially when the dividendscould last a lifetime. Boro-mashi’s jamdani silk sari will be perfect for thesecond encounter.
Jethu remembers the pujos of yesteryears with longing. The Bengali communitywas far more close-knit those days. The four days of Pujo were an exclusiveBengali affair. One could hear only Bangla being spoken at the Pujo pandal.Every evening, after the aroti got over, the men and a few women of the parawould stage a Bangla play or a jatra for which they would rehearse for weeks,often skipping office or household responsibilities. Some worthies from theparas, who were better off monetarily, would invite a troupe from Calcuttato stage Bangla plays. Jethu doesn’t remember even one announcement being madeat the pandal in Hindi. A cultural programme performed in any other languageother than Bangla was out of question.
These days he cringes to hear the young speak Hindi and English, even on daysexclusively reserved for Bengalis. Shejokaka reasons with Jethu that times havechanged. Big corporate sponsorships have come in. The more footfalls you have ina Pujo pandal, the more money the sponsor will give you. Shejokaka pleads withJethu to see the brighter side of corporatisation. Better funding has made itpossible for Pujo committees to engage highly skilled artisans to work onpandals. These days you can see exact replicas of the White House or our veryown Taj Mahal. All erected out of just bamboo and cloth. Not only are thepandals a grand spectacle, they generate employment for hundreds ofcraftsmen whose only means of earning a livelihood comes from these four days ofPujo. So what...Shejokaku explains...if some Hindi cultural programmes aredished out. You see, big Bollywood stars come to perform at Pujos. It ensures alarger congregation, people from all communities turn up, which is exactly whatthe sponsor is paying for. And why should Durga Pujo be an exclusively Bengaliaffair? Why should it not be an inclusive pan-Indian festival? After all, theDurga Pujo which Jethu is so nostalgic about is itself a much-modified versionof the even older tradition of Durga Pujos held in zamindari households. Theparar pujo or pujo for the masses is a phenomenon that gained popular acceptanceonly towards the end of 19th century.
Jethu sees Shejokaka’s point but refuses to budge from his position. Hecontends that everything that is new may not be good. He cites the example ofAll India Radio’s misadventure in 1977. AIR, in order to give MahishasurMardini a makeover, had scrapped Birendra Krishna Bhadra’s recording andinstead broadcast superstar Uttam Kumar’s medley. The experiment was acolossal failure. Effigies were burnt on the streets of Calcutta. This was at atime when Uttam Kumar was worshipped as a demi-god by Bengalis. Jethu made hispoint triumphantly: even the magic of Uttam Kumar could not oust the goldenvoice of Birendra Krishna Bhadra. Some things can never be altered, even if youtake the most populist route. AIR suspended the new programme immediately andhad to revert to the original version, which it broadcasts to date.
Between anjali, prasad, bhog, aroti, chhoto-mashi’s romantic liaisons,boro-mashi’s vanity, Jethu’s grumpiness, Shejokaku’s avant garde candourand a score of other pujo nothings, the four days pass by before you realise itis all over for this year. Ma Durga’s protima is being dismounted from thepandal amidst feverish chants. Bolo bolo Durga mai ki jai! There is an air ofsadness in the air. Ma is bidding adieu to her paternal home as she leaves forher husband’s home in Kailash parvat. One could see her eyes well up inlonging for all of us. The chants that fill the air now are Asche BocchorAbar Hobe – she will come again next year.
