The words ‘puja, Durga puja’ held so much emotion for me as a primary school kid. The Puja vacation was always a period of excitement; I remember roaming around the Puja mandap with my best friend, who always saved her homemade naru for me. When she left the country, a piece of the festival left with her, I grew detached from the festival.
Now, after fourteen years, I decided it was time to explore the Durga puja mandap once again. As a Gen Z adult, my first notification of Mahalaya came from social media, a stark contrast to my childhood when it was my neighbour’s high-volume TV that would rouse me from sleep in the small hours of the morning.
The First Days: Sasthi and Shaptami
With a busy schedule, I finally got time to visit the Puja Mandap on Sasthi evening. The entrance of Jagannath Hall Puja Mandap was shining with red, green, and yellow string lights. It was a powerful moment of respect when the sounds of Dhak were momentarily paused for the time of Namaz.
On Sasthi, the Hindu ritual is to adorn Devi Durga with her six sets of weapons, which she uses to fight the evil power of Oshur. The Devi Durga of Jagannath Hall was wearing a striking red sari. Durga symbolises the feminine power, and her fiery red sari resembles her role as a fierce protector who stands against evil forces. While the song Dugga elo! Dugga elo! played in the background, I noticed a little kid, Srija, who was blowing bubbles in a red dress. After talking for a bit, she joyfully shared how she had bought five new dresses for the five days of the festival.
The next day, Shaptami morning, I went to the local Puja Mandap in Dhanmondi to witness the morning prayers. I found a seat beside two giggling teenage girls who helped me understand the entire ritual. They described Devi Durga visiting Earth with her five children, who are Ganesha, Lokkhi, Sarawoshati, and Kartik. Orthi, a YWCA class 9 student, reminisced about how she and her companions visited the Puja Mandap in a group. She admires how Bangladeshi Hindus do not discriminate against lower castes in their faith, as other countries do.
At 12 pm, the priest first offered the Bhog, concealing Durga’s face, reciting a mantra, and spraying shantir jol, before distributing flowers for Onjoly. The sounds of Dhak, Kasha, Ulu, and the Mantro—Nobobishnu, Holy (pabitro), and Peace (shanti)—made the atmosphere more festive. Orthi invited me to the Puja Mandap every year so we could giggle like we did today.
Rain, Rejoicing, and Community
I was super excited for the Saptami evening when three juniors decided to join me. We entered the Khamarbari Puja Mandap just as it started drizzling, right in time for the evening Aarti (lamp ceremony). The rain turned heavy, and we got stuck there for an hour. Despite the downpour, children and teenagers were coming to pay their respects and danced together around the Dhak in front of the altar. The sounds of the heavy rain, the priest’s mantras, and the loud Dhak seemed to be competing for supremacy.
Leaving the place in the heavy rain, we made our way back to Jagannath Hall around 7 pm. The high-spirited festival atmosphere made us quickly forget the stormy weather we had just endured. After offering our regards to the face of Durga, we rushed to the food stalls, ravenously hungry. We savoured the spicy cholagugni before indulging in the orange and yellow laddu and patishapta.
But no visit is complete without an exhilarating ride on the swing boat. Sitting at the top, we were smiling and screaming like kids. Though our heads were spinning after getting down, we returned home with happy hearts.
For the final two days of Puja, I went to the local Puja Mandap. On Nabami evening, the Aarti finished early. As I was leaving, I noticed a detail that encapsulated the spirit of the festival: a Muslim guard patiently controls the crowd with one hand while eating prashad (blessed food) with the other. This is the true communal bond we always hope to see.
As I entered the Mandap, a group of teenage girls—Susmita, Oindrial, Malobika, Priyanka, and Deepika—invited me to dance with them and partake in the colours they touched on my cheek and hand.
Dashami: A Joyful Goodbye
Finally, the last day of Puja arrived: Dashami. As I entered the Mandap, a group of teenage girls—Susmita, Oindrial, Malobika, Priyanka, and Deepika—invited me to dance with them and partake in the colours they touched on my cheek and hand. They express happiness in saying goodbye to Ma, knowing that in exactly one year, she visits the earth again.
Most married women, dressed in red and white saris, offer sindur (vermillion) to the Devi’s feet and face, while adults, teenagers, and older gentlemen all dance together in shared joy. The Puja committee announces that Devi Durga is taken for immersion after 1:30 pm, marking the end of another unforgettable year.
After leaving a joyful occasion, returning home was challenging. I called my friend about her celebration abroad; she mentioned that the holiday spirit differs by country and that being away from home is less enjoyable without loved ones. Although Durga Puja is extravagant at her place, it does not have the same feeling of home as it does in Bangladesh, where it is observed with simplicity, intimacy, and a sense of community.