What 'Pujo' means to a Bengali


Take a deep breath and please read it once.

Vir Sanghvi is the editor of The Hindustan Times.

Subject: Pujo By Vir Sanghvi



What 'Pujo' means to a Bengali

Most modern Indian cities strive to rise above ethnicity. Tell anybody
who lives in Bombay that he lives in a Maharashtrian city and (unless
of course, you are speaking to Bal Thackeray) he will take immediate
offence. We are cosmopolitan, he will say indigenously. Tell a
Delhiwalla that his is a Punjabi city (which, in many ways, it is) and
he will respond with much self-righteous nonsense about being the
nation's capital, about the international composition of the city's
elite etc. And tell a Bangalorean that he lives in a Kannadiga city
and you'll get lots of techno-gaff about the internet revolution and
about how Bangalore is even more cosmopolitan than Bombay.

But, the only way to understand what Calcutta is about is recognize
that the city is essentially Bengali. What's more, no Bengali minds
you saying that. Rather, he is proud of the fact. Calcutta's
strengths and weaknesses mirror those of the Bengali character. It has
the drawbacks: the sudden passions, the cheerful chaos, the utter
contempt for mere commerce, the fiery response to the
smallest provocation. And it has the strengths (actually, I think of
the drawbacks as strengths in their own way). Calcutta embodies the
Bengali love of culture; the triumph ofintellectualism over
greed; the complete transparency of all emotions, the disdain with
which hypocrisy and insincerity are treated; the warmth of genuine
humanity; and the supremacy of emotion over all other aspects of human
existence.

That's why Calcutta is not for everyone. You want your cities clean
and green; stick to Delhi. You want your cities, rich and impersonal;
go to Bombay. You want them high-tech and full of
draught beer; Bangalore's your place. But if you want a city with a
soul: come to Calcutta.

When I look back on the years I've spent in Calcutta - and I come back
so many times each year that I often feel I've never been away - I
don't remember the things that people remember about cities. When I
think of London, I think of the vast open spaces of Hyde Park. When I
think of New York, I think of the frenzy of Times Square. When I
think of Tokyo, I think of the bright lights of
Shinjiku. And when I think of Paris, I think of the Champs Elysee.
But when I think of Calcutta, I never think of any one place. I don't
focus on the greenery of the maidan, the beauty of
the Victoria Memorial, the bustle of Burra Bazaror the splendour of
the new Howrah 'Bridge'. I think of people. Because, finally, a city
is more than bricks and mortars, street lights and tarred
roads. A city is the sum of its people. And who can ever forget or
replicate - the people of Calcutta?

When I first came to live here, I was told that the city would grow on
me. What nobody told me was that the city would change my life. It was
in Calcutta that I learnt about true warmth; about simple human
decency; about love and friendship; about emotions and caring; about
truth and honesty. I learnt other things too. Coming from Bombay as I
did, it was a revelation to live in a city where people judged each
other on the things that really mattered; where they recognized that
being rich did not make you a better person - in fact, it might have
the opposite effect. I learnt also that if life is about more than
just money, it is about the things that other cities ignore; about
culture, about ideas, about art, and about passion. In Bombay, a man
with a relatively low income will salt some of it away for the day
when he gets a stock market tip. In Calcutta, a man with exactly the
same income will not know the difference between a debenture and a
dividend. But he will spend his money on the things that matter. Each
morning, he will read at least two newspapers and develop sharply
etched views on the state of the world. Each evening, there will be
fresh (ideally, fresh-water or river) fish on his table. His children
will be encouraged to learn
to dance or sing. His family will appreciate the power of poetry. And
for him, religion and culture will be in inextricably bound together.

Ah religion! Tell outsiders about the importance of Puja in Calcutta
and they'll scoff. Don't be silly, they'll say. Puja is a religious
festival. And Bengal has voted for the CPM since 1977. How can
godless Bengal be so hung up on a religions festival? I never know how
to explain them that to a Bengali, religion consists of much more than
shouting Jai Shri Ram or pulling down somebody's
mosque. It has little to do with meaningless ritual or sinister
political activity.

The essence of Puja is that all the passions of Bengal converge:
emotion, culture, the love of life, the warmth of being together, the
joy of celebration, the pride in artistic expression and yes,
the cult of the goddess. It may be about religion. But is about much
more than just worship. In which other part of India would small, not
particularly well-off localities, vie with each other to
produce the best pandals? Where else could puja pandals go beyond
religion to draw inspiration from everything else? In the years I
lived in Calcutta, the pandals featured Amitabh Bachchan, Princes
Diana and even Saddam Hussain! Where else would children cry with the
sheer emotional power of Dashimi, upset that the Goddess had left
their homes? Where else would the whole city gooseflesh when the
dhakis first begin to beat their drums? Which other Indian festival -
in any part of the country - is so much about food, about going from
one roadside stall to another, following your nose as it trails the
smells of cooking?

To understand Puja, you must understand Calcutta. And to understand
Calcutta, you must understand the Bengali. It's not easy. Certainly,
you can't do it till you come and live here, till you
let Calcutta suffuse your being, invade your bloodstream and steal
your soul. But once you have, you'll love Calcutta forever. Wherever
you go,a bit of Calcutta will go with you. I know, because
it's happened to me. And every Puja, I am overcome by the magic of
Bengal. It's a feeling that'll never go away.

___________________________________________________________

Book yourself something to look forward to in 2005.
Cheap flights - http://www.tiscali.co.uk/travel/flights/
Bargain holidays - http://www.tiscali.co.uk/travel/holidays/