After experiencing the monotony of ostentatious pomp that is Durga Puja in the UK for two years and spending the third Puja locked down at home, our hearts yearned for the vibrant ambience of the festival in Calcutta.
Strict lockdown in England for most of 2020 ruled out celebrations spanning all religions. We tried our best to keep up a brave front on the Puja days but moulding a goddess out of Fun Dough ordered online, dressing up in our colourful ethnic wear only to take backyard selfies and cooking Bengali delicacies like kachuri alur dom or vegetable chop just to offer to our hand-crafted thakur as bhog at home was like trying to replace the stars with store-bought glitter.
Our frustration often neared breaking point as we watched the live streaming of Durga Puja on YouTube and imagined what it would be like to travel back in time and space to the madness and merriment in our beloved hometown.
So, once we returned to India in February, we were eager to make up for the three years of absence during Puja. For the three days, we went around the pandals in south Calcutta where I have shifted since marriage. But the crowd on the streets was rather intimidating. So on Navami, we decided to try our pandal-hopping luck in Salt Lake, where I grew up and where my parents still stay.
We set off early after breakfast, hoping the timing would ensure sparse crowds and better photo opportunities. With us was our eight-year-old who was having so much fun on his Puja trip debut that he would not mind walking miles if only he could add to his pandal tally!
We began, as usual, with some of the blocks hemming the Broadway. Parking was unusually hassle-free.
The GD Block deity presided over a grand entrance to an old style ancestral house, replete with green latticed windows topped by faux stained glass arches. The HB Block pandal felt safe, being covered but open on all sides. The orange and white decor was visually enhanced by the blue and orange grid backdrop to the deity, decorated by tiny electric diyas.
An interesting addition to the HA Block pandal was the aerosol sanitising station one had to pass through to enter the pandal. Although not functional right then, it seemed to be a promising safety measure in peak pandal-hopping hours. A book stall at the corner of the block compelled us to buy some children’s story books in Bengali, including a translation of Italian fairy tales!
Our next stop was GC Block, also featuring a scaled-down homely celebration. FE Block had used fresh flowers, kulo and haatpakha to create a traditional, festive look. The deity caught our eye with its green frame.
Further up, in Sector II, the AK Block puja stopped us in our tracks with its imposing brown and gold (incredibly, thermocol!) facade, intricate elephant and peacock motifs and a striking red deity. A red carpet cascading down the entry stairs invited selfies galore. The goddess on her throne was visually accessible to all but cordoned off to maintain Covid protocol.
The AJ Block structure resembled a huge thakurdalan with gold and white decorative arches and pillars. The vast expanse was a delightful combination of indoor meets outdoor. Socially distanced seating encouraged us to watch the spectacular rituals and gain momentary respite from the sweltering heat.
BJ Block had opted for a checkerboard ceiling, vibrant Chinese lanterns, a floral foyer and a spacious but cordoned-off worship zone.
EC Block kept it simple both in scale and theme. Life in the pandemic was dramatically represented in a small pandal by faces of people in boxes, with digitally added masks reinforcing current safety protocol.
Labony, a consistent winner of awards every year for socially relevant puja themes, showed great responsibility in issuing a stern notice to mindless and maskless revellers. A big poster at the entrance bluntly listed out 12-point Covid prohibitions, ending with a stark reminder: Pujo ba utsab proti bochhor ashbe kintu manusher jibon bar bar phire ashbe na, striking a sombre note. The inability to see the idol from afar further dented our mood.
Paradise lost
FD Block, my home for eight years and where my parents live, surprised us by austere standards of celebration this year. A pristine white medieval English manor house with towers, parapet and gatehouse, arose gracefully amidst numerous potted plants creating an impression of lush greenery under the scorching autumn sun. Visitors followed a strictly demarcated one-way route amidst the vast park, to ensure minimal risk in Covid times. Community lunches were packed and distributed from an open area beside the community hall to avoid crowding and queueing.
However, the sight of so few stalls around the pandal unsettled me. It was a stark contrast to so many previous years, when there used to be a carnivalesque milieu in the block park, and endless food and entertainment options would leave us spoilt for choice. The rides for children, the mehendi stalls, the fashion photo booths…the bustling and infectious Puja spirit was absent. Where was our FD Block puja with bejewelled fashionistas flaunting the latest drapes and exchanging notes on buffet prices at City Centre restaurants?
Yes, Covid seemed to have sucked all the fun and frolic out of our lives and left us anxious and dispirited. It was a sober but sad reality check for us, taking us hurtling back to our time in the UK last autumn. Across continents, across pujas, the more there are differences, the more the pandemic makes it the same.
How different was Puja in Salt Lake this year?
Write to The Telegraph Salt Lake, 6 Prafulla Sarkar Street, Calcutta 700001 or email to saltlake@abp.in
