In defence of the biggest bong bash

You don't like Durga Puja?

Hmmm...I understand your disenchantment with all things flimsy and frivolous, your apathy for a country steeped in poverty and yet spending crores for a mere festival.

Let me write a few words in defence of Durga Puja and all the mayhem in its name for you.

Chandidas Pal is busy giving final touches to his idols in Kumartuli, the potters’ colony in North Kolkata. Bhabesh Pal works in Baishnabghata, under polythene sheets serving as roof to his Durga idols lined up for the finishing strokes. The smell of wet soil, straw and incense sticks envelop you as you stand watching the gods and their pets take shape under the skillful fingers of the clay sculptors. A young man in a lungi stands a few feet away with a satin cloth in his hand, waiting. Moments later, he helps Bhabesh fold the cloth into pleats of the exact measures. Then you watch mesmerized as the pleated sari is nailed onto Durga’s sculpture as effortlessly as you would drape a sari around yourself. The same process follows for Lakshmi and Saraswati. The ones for Kartik and Ganesh are relatively easy, since all they wear is the fabric as a dhoti around their middle.

An artist at Kumartuli (Source: Internet)

Great hordes of artistes come to the city in flocks to do what they do best. Modeling figurines of the gods and goddesses, ahead of the festive season in West Bengal.

Do you think they come for the money alone?

You are wrong.

The sheer love and passion that mark their faces as they mold the clay feet, as they stick the false curls of hair, as they paint the benevolent eyes and lips of the models are unmistakable. And the love-affair runs through generations.

The artisans have a head contractor, an artist himself, who help them find these jobs at various workshops. 15-20 artists work in each workshop under the supervision of the contractor. They get paid on per diem basis – ensuring they have enough to take home, even after they have bought their kids new clothes for the puja in their village.

Not just in West Bengal.

Artists like Sanatan Pal have been going to Delhi and Andhra for the same purpose for the last decade. Pal along with his three sons and his nephew work on the idols in Delhi and come home with enough cash to go a year round. With more and more Pujo organizers willing to experiment with new styles and themes in modeling their idols, it is never a boring job for the artisans. And they are not afraid to learn new nuances and techniques.

Same with the pandal makers. Pandals are not straightforward bamboo squares cloaked in coarse cloth anymore. I spoke to the ones who have come to work on our society pandal. It’s been a month now that they have made our society their home. They cook, clean, sleep, play cards and listen to Radio Mirchi right under my bedroom window. Sometimes I marvel at squeals of laughter coming from the top of the pandal, which they climb, as nimble-footed as monkeys to tie the bamboos up. In the Hindustan Park pandal, which is slowly taking shape of an old temple, I speak to some craftsmen, who welcome me inside the pandal to show off proudly what they have done. I can’t stop beaming. They are simple village men. They do not know the etiquette of the city breds. One boy grabs my hand and pulls me aside to show the intricate pillar they are working on.

Hindustan Park Puja pandal work  in progress, 2013

Then there are the dhaakis. I remember as a child, I had once remarked to my friend, Mamon, while watching the drummer dance to his own beats that the poor fellow must be so tired of it. My friend had reminded me quickly that he was doing what he enjoyed the best.

“Look at the man’s face,” she had said.

Drops of sweat rolling down his face, his clean white shirt was wet too. But the smile was infectious. He was dancing around like a man possessed. Other men of the local club were dancing with the dhunuchi as well.

Yes, surely he was a farmer in some remote village? Just ahead of the Durga Puja, flocks of these local percussionists migrate cityward. In Kaalighaat, they line up the road, beating their drums, hoping to be picked up for the four-day-long festivities. Organizers all over India also make a beeline for the Kolkata dhaakis and bring them over looking after their travelling, boarding and lodging expenses.

The dhaakis playing in a band

Now they charge up a sum between Rs 15,000 to Rs 20,000 for just 4 days. Something they would never dream of making by just poughing the fields of Birbhum, the village in West Bengal where they mostly come from. It is a hereditary profession, most men turning dhaakis only during these occasions like Durga Puja, Kali Puja, and Jagadhatri Puja. Some even work as labourers and rickshaw pullers all year round.

“Didi, there is no dearth of work back home but we can’t earn as much as we do here” - Manik, our dhaaki from last year had said to me.

I can go on endlessly just to explain to you, how this one festival comes as a benign blessing to the poor in my country.

Electricians, who light up the streets and the pandals; the truckers, who deliver the idols right in time; the bearers, who lift and carry the heavy idols to the pedestals and then back again to the Ganges for the immersion; the bamboo providers; the concept artist behind the themes; the musicians, who play at various Pujos; the painters and designers, who work on the Puja adverts and hoardings; the textile weavers, who work non-stop to provide the shops with the right amount of products; the sound engineers, who make sure the decibels hit just right; the goldsmiths, who work overtime to present the new jewelry designs just before the season arrives; the pujaris, who do the actual worshiping; the fruit vendors, who supply the fruits for the Prasad; the florists, who bring in the huge garlands; the thakurs, who work up the bhog; the street food sellers, who lace the roads to feed the hungry mouths out pandal-hopping; the chai-wallahs, the ice-cream man, the candyfloss man, the phuchka-walla,the alookabli-ghoogni walla,  the men at the egg-roll stall, the moira at the sweet shops, the road side volunteers, who help to steer the crowd – the beneficiaries of the Pujo are endless to count.

Oh, and did I forget to mention the tourism industry that flourishes at this time too? :)

Lights, sound, crowd and action!

Most organizations also carry out charity activities during the Pujas. We do this at our society and know of many that also follow this ritual. For a country as poor as ours, I know nothing ever adds up to the huge resource gap that has been created. Centuries of colonization, following political upheavals, the wars, the partition, the current corruption – all have added its share to the current mess that my country is in. Add to that the ignominy showered on women in the shape of rapes and infanticides. Does it not ring somewhere as hollow that we worship a female deity, while we fail to protect our women from the demons inside our borders?

You bet it does, but it also means that somewhere there is hope. We recently had an anti-abuse campaign with the Durga idols carrying marks of violence with battered lips and eyes. We have had a huge media uproar to the Delhi rape case. Women have taken to the street to protest against the Park Street rape case. We are seeing women empowerment on the rise even in villages. Rapes, which would otherwise go unregistered earlier, are being noted down at police stations. Women are no longer ashamed of walking into the OC’s chamber, demanding that an FIR be written for rape.

The Abused Goddess campaign (Source: Internet)

We still have casualties. Remember rapes happen in every country. Some come in the news, some don’t.

Should that stop us from celebrating the power in women?

My city’s pujo is not a personal matter of mere merry-making to me. When I match my jewelry from a shop that sells hand-made stuff by handicapped craftspeople, I know I am adding someone’s special touch to my finery. Pujo is not just a waste.

It is an industry that supports millions of poor artisans in my country. It gives them a platform of expression, an edifice to show off their art to not only to the pandal hoppers, but to the entire world. We have prizes announced in various categories for the best pujos – by many brands. Every prize is a token of the appreciation for their art. Mostly it is mythology, folk lores, and legends that is represented through rural art everywhere – so in a way, it is ensuring that the coming generations don’t lose touch with their ancient agrarian roots. And not just Hindu myth. I remember noticing the entire story of Buddha’s life etched in terracotta in one of Jodpur Park’s pandals in 2011.

Cool, is it not?

Last month IBN news announced that West Bengal's Durga puja industry is growing at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of about 35 percent and is expected to touch Rs.40,000 crores by 2015 from its current size of Rs.25,000 crores. I know that some amount of that will trickle down to the ones who need it the most.

http://ibnlive.in.com/news/bengals-durga-puja-industry-to-touch-rs40000-crore-in-2015/420706-3-231.html

I can’t stop smiling!

Bring it on!