Ashtami

The Pujas remind me of Wimbledon. It rains. People become impatient. The passionate and headstrong march on, despite rain or storm. Today it was only a drizzle and not the heavy showers filling up a depression like the papers had so ominously reported.

Some of the more famous pandals are thronged by millions of visitors and there is serious danger of a stampede. Some make their entrances small, creating the illusion of a larger crowd and forcing people to linger on. Streets are lined with loads of policemen, perhaps of the most polite variety, but ones who insist that the crowd keep moving all the same. The crazy numbers demand it. The large block of tens of thousands of people move at a snail's pace. There are the occasional shrieks of irritation and anger when someone pushes a bit more than one would permit. Hands carrying mobile phones rise amid this large bunch of heads to click photographs. When finally one is out after a most confusing experience it is a relief and the claustrophobic are left breathless. Most women dress up as they would in marriages, so this experience leaves them with a slightly less flattering appearance.

After much sweating, shoving, pushing and almost being stamped upon by people dressed in their best one isn't even allowed to pause once they are inside. If truth be told, none of the pandals contain anything fascinating enough to make up for the troubles leading up to them, at least nothing one can detect in the few seconds one is allowed to spend inside. The famous ones are famous for their size, their lack of creativity and adherence to tradition. Balancing both, makes them interesting for me. To run around from one pandal to another jostling maddening crowds for an almost anti-climatic ending perhaps isn't worth it. The point for most isn't really to see what lies in the end, but to witness what leads up to it, to be a part of the experience that is the Durga Puja.

The better part of it is to find a place to sit and watch the ceremonies and rituals in silence, perhaps even watch the crowd pass by, grab an occasional bite of street food, listen to the dhakis play, to the songs that fill the air, even those irritating little horns...


Larger.