Bengali Liturgy

A feeble attempt to paint the feminine might!

Quintessential Bengalis bask in the liturgical Durga Puja (barowari) for four days straight. 

What do they do?

They drape the choicest ethnic wears paired with accessories procured throughout the year and consigned to an unreachable corner to restrain or stamp out any vestigial urge of wearing them before the coveted festivities - new clothes for Durga Puja is not a choice, it’s a mandate and an excuse for year-long shopping!

They offer Ma fruit, flower, pushpanjali, steeped in apparent reverence while squinting to cheat a bit - speculating what others are wearing - kaani, bhujodi, if that thick necklace accentuating slender collarbones is gold,  who’s  looking the most gorgeous in silk and matching mine kora bangles, if they are up to the bars others around them have set. 

An inner voice harks to concentrate on the ridiculously complex Sanskrit chants to be uttered following the Purohit’s cues. They follow reluctantly! It’s undeniably utterly confusing at times for some who acquiesce - as in I find praying ‘haropriye’ right after ‘Haro Rogang Haro Khovang Haro Maring’ anachronistic! …urr… I resort to epanorthosis pleading Ma to not misconstrue her epithet of mighty Lord Siva’s consort, I reiterate to keep  my loved ones safe! ***

It’s not just malapropism - ‘putran dehi’ stirred a wave demanding alteration of the stotra itself to ‘santanan dehi’ until the Pundits resolved it. I’d be a dilettante if I endeavour to delve deeper on this matter but I believe it’s more like acceptance of “mankind” to include both genders!

Back to the altar! 

Conscious of limited amount of flowers (often a few petals) available for offering, three-in-one pushpanjali is wrapped up in a haste to queue up for food!

When has Khichurhi Proshad ever tasted ambrosial without achieving it by navigating endless queuing to the counter? The long wait, spiced up with socialising (read gossiping), before a plate of piping hot khichurhi, crispy beguni (eggplant 🍆 fritters), mushy labrha, sweet and tangy chutney, and soft gulab jamoon is handed out, adds an intangible layer of deliciousness, more so as it ends the super long fasting that food-loving Bengalis are hardly used to.

With mouth watering proshad at finger tips, they flat squat or easy pose pretty much anywhere or jostle to a table if at all available - there’s no stopping from gorging on! 

With the busiest part of the day closed, the next phase is usually milling around the premises buying merchs or just lollygagging till the wait is over for Sandhya Arati and cultural performances. Enthusiasts and influencers, hardly frittering time, resort to pujo-hopping.

… and in all the bustle, somewhere Ma appears to have descended to Earth with her all-encompassing love and blessings…

Sensitive minds might catch her transmogrifying from mrinmoyee to chinmoyee momentarily behind the veil of smoke-plume stemming from censers and incense sticks - the 108-lotus garland shifts slightly, 108 diyas glow warmly, 108 bilwa-patra dipped in ghee simmer silently in leaping tongues of holy fire contained within hom kundo. The subtlety is often masked by Dhakis’ rhythmic trumpeting of huge dhaks adorned in vibrant cloths and catkins…an endeavour to give her some space, some privacy.

And what after the razzmatazz of these four days of festivities come to close?

What else but commence countdown, মা আসতে ৩** দিন, and shopping for the next! After all, we say lifecycle!

Dona, Sydney, September ‘26

***

হর রোগং হর ক্ষোভং হর মারীং হরপ্রিয়ে

Eliminate diseases, anger, epidemics consort (প্রিয়ে) Lord Shiva (হর)

The other malapropism is হর সুখম for হরাসুখম (হর + সুখম) in “নমঃ হর পাপং হর ক্লেশং হর শোকং হরাসুখম।”

I’d rather stay tight-lipped lest I lose my state of happiness! 😄

নমঃ হর পাপং হর ক্লেশং হর শোকং হরাসুখম।