The celebration of Durga Puja in Calcutta can be traced back to the early 17th century. The initial celebrations were restricted to individual families, something that began to give way only in the late 18th century to become a community affair. After Independence, the celebrations assumed a different flavour — the attention to pandal decorations, the careful art and craft behind every idol, the lights, the sounds, the city awash with the ubiquitous carnivalesque spirit... But the past decade, the Durga Puja celebrations in the city have assumed a loud, reckless character. Calcuttans have started to dread the five days when normal life will be thrown completely out of gear. Manasi Shah talks to five of the city’s youth about the other side of the Puja celebrations and why it leaves them cold  

Anisha Das
Recently completed Bachelor's

I am a resident of College Street. The College Square Sarbojanin Puja, the same that is on every Bengali's bucket list, actually happens at my doorstep. It is a 70-year-old Puja and I am 21. By the time organisers celebrate its 75th year I would have developed a serious hearing impairment. That and the involuntary insomnia apart, there is an even bigger problem.

Every year, during these five days, I have to convince police and volunteers that I "belong" here, that I live here, house pass or no house pass.

It usually takes me 40 seconds to walk home from the [Calcutta] Medical College. Last year, during Puja time, it took me 40 minutes. Having done this ad nauseam, in 2016 I decided that a vacation would be nice. My family and I went to Rajasthan. But the vacation turned out to be the opposite of what I had expected.

We ran into four different Bengali joint families, one every alternate day. The moment they learnt that we were from College Street, they got terribly interested. So, in effect, my Rajasthan trip came to be filled with long conversations about the one thing I was running away from - Durga Puja.

Debdip Maitra
Software engineer

I am a Calcutta boy - born, raised and steeped in the ways of the city. And ever since I can remember, I have hated Durga Puja. I hate the way the city wakes up with a start four months before the festivities, like a giant python emerging from hibernation. I hate the frantic shopping, the never-ending queues all around for anything and everything. I hate the drama around the ordering of the pratima or idol, and all that unnecessary brainstorming over mandapsajja or pandal decoration. I hate the Mahalaya chant that gives me a temporary high, but also ruins my much-needed sleep after a long and tiring day in office. I hate the way the streets deck up, like a prom queen, beyond recognition. It has been two years now since work has taken me out of the city. I have not been present in Calcutta during the Pujas for two years in a row, and I must say I hate it more than ever. Only, what I hate about it vehemently now is that I cannot be part of that energy anymore, part of that madness, stuck far away in the distant slave pits of Meereen aka Bangalore.

Prerna Kabra
MBA student

Last year, during the Durga Puja celebrations in Calcutta, my cousins - all girls - and I went pandal-hopping. Because of traffic restrictions and diversions we took the Metro. Once, when we got off at Park Street and emerged out of the Mayo Road gate, we found a group of 12-14 men coming at us. They tried to molest us and even tried to physically pick up my youngest cousin. We somehow managed to resist them and ran away, but not before one of them stole a mobile phone from one of us.

When we went to register a complaint with the Park Street police, they heard us out, but that was all. It is understandable that the police have their hands full, but I feel the Pujas are much too hyped. The city can get very chaotic and very difficult to adjust to during this time.

Karan Maheshwari
Recently completed Bachelor's

The Pujas start disrupting normal life a month before the celebrations begin. All that late night work on the pandals makes it impossible for you to get a wink of sound sleep. Ideally, pandals are not supposed to come up too close to a house or a highrise. But who's listening? You never know when you will be stopped in the streets and asked to donate generously, all in the name of the Pujas. The blinding lights, the blaring sounds, the littering crowds, the sea of people... If anything should go wrong in one of those pandals, serious numbers would get injured. The police try their best but they are always short-staffed. All in all, I would rather be out of the city during the Pujas.

Poulami Kar
Pursuing Bachelor's

I am no fan of the Durga Puja celebrations and I am not ashamed to admit it. During this time of the year, my little circle of friends prefers to distance themselves from me, affections notwithstanding. They never forget to point out that my behaviour is most unsocial. But what can I do? The microphones and the crowds suffocate me. The sky seems distant and the sunburnt alleys lose their quiet beauty thanks to the boisterous crowds. I don't care for pandal-hopping either. It just doesn't seem worth my while, travelling through an already clogged city to see the same idol many times over. I cannot find it in my heart to approve of the unabashed splurging in a country like ours, where even today hundreds and thousands go hungry every day. And I hate the hypocrisy underlying it all. Think about it, do people really give women the place and respect in society that they give to the goddess during the Pujas? Then what is the point of all this?