For me, Durga Puja is far more than five days of celebration. It is the thread that binds me to my family and to my identity as a Bengali, even as work has scattered us across different cities. The feeling of Pujo keeps me both motivated and nostalgic. (DC)

 For me, Durga Puja is far more than five days of celebration. It is the thread that binds me to my family and to my identity as a Bengali, even as work has scattered us across different cities. The feeling of Pujo keeps me both motivated and nostalgic.

My family follows the Belur Math tradition and we are initiated into the ideology of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. That is why my most intimate Puja memory is of the Ramakrishna Math in Hyderabad. The rituals there are the same as in Belur.

The day begins with Mahasnan, performed with 72 auspicious items, including soil from riverbanks, mountains, cowsheds and by old custom, a sex worker’s courtyard. I see in this a powerful message of inclusion, where every class and community comes together for the divine invocation. The days follow their own sacred order. Bodhan and Kalash Sthapana come first, then the Chandi Path on Shashti, the Navapatrika Snan on Saptami and Kumari Puja on Ashtami. Sandhi Puja marks the moment the Goddess conquered the demons and Navami closes with the Maha Yajna.

My favourite task is serving bhog. I also love dancing with the Dhunuchi.

For Bengalis, Durga is a fierce goddess, but she is also our daughter Uma, who comes down from Kailash to visit her family.

Dashami is the hardest day. We bid her farewell with Boron and Sindoor Khela, and offer her Shital Panta, something cooling for her long journey back. Our last words to her are, “Aashte Bachcho Raja Abar Hove” — the hope that she will return soon. And with that, the wait begins again.

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