Festival Assignment - DurgaFest: The Commercialization of a Deity

By Alex Marchand and Samir Alam

The streets of Chittaranjan Park, New Delhi are nowhere to be seen as thousands of people crowd the space in their final farewell to Durga Ma (Goddess Mother). Amongst the bright lights and smoke that marks the end of the four day celebration of Durga Puja; the entire Bengali borough of C.R. Park is aglow with festivity. After journeying through endless rows of devotees and processions the awe inspiring plaster homage of Ma Durga makes itself visible in its pandal (worship tent) abode.

The massive statue is not only a great attraction but also a source of joy and prayer to many. As it over sees the dogmatic worship of the people below littered around are pundits (priests) who adorn the statue with crowns of flowers. Auspicious tikkas are bestowed on all those who come up to see Her, as a lively festival of dance is underway on a stage nearby, captivating the audience - “in the honor of the Mother, the Druga goddess”.

The scene almost seems stereotypical of what tourist guides proclaim to be the Indian experience and subsequently scores of Westerners travel to see. And yet something is clearly amiss.

“Festive Discounts” and other “Special Offers”

Significant spaces in and around the pandals are littered with commercial stalls. Miniature shops sell everything from insurance, televisions and bank accounts to toys for little kids.

Loud and obnoxious billboards, either in English or Bengali, are seen at every step. And as the last few weeks have turned into the final days, the advertisers have kept themselves busy by offering “Festive Discounts” and “Special Offers” in light of the religious celebrations.

And in an ironically unifying manner it is not only Indian companies that are represented here. Numerous multinationals also fall in line and attempt to gain as much as they can from the religion. When asked, Joy Bondyopadhyay, a representative at a telecommunications product stall explains:

“To organize such a grand festival one needs resources. One needs sponsorship and we are here to help the organizers. It also provides an occasion to promote our company; as it is people tend to shop and spend more at the time of Durga Puja.”

A man sitting at the Ramakrishna Mission, Ashim Tanguluy, a senior veteran of Durga Puja celebrations insists:

“We come here each Durga Puja. The business belongs to the festival, go to the villages of inner Bengal and you will see that it is exactly the same.”

When asked about the conflict between business and spirituality he replies, “No! Enthusiasm is always there. It is a celebration of joy; we celebrate the return of the Mother!”

“One comes here for the entertainment”

There are children running around with balloons and cotton candy. Traditional elegantly colored saris find place alongside tight jeans and t-shirts. The shouts of street vendors are echoing down to the unsuspecting crowds. It seems more of a street party rather than a religious festival.

“The people coming here are very sincere, they come here to pray” assures Samrat, 21 year old business student from Assam. But when one asked to explain the story behind the festival he becomes far less loquacious:

“The Durga goddess beat the demon and then… uh… I do not know much more, it is complicated.”

Until he finally admits: “Yes it is true, one comes here for the entertainment.”

And from a distance the sound of a Bengali rock group can be heard as they replace the dancers in the honor of Ma Durga.

Dangers of Diwali in Delhi

New Delhi: Traditionally a festival of lights, Diwali has now become an excuse for renegade urban bombardment. “It is how Diwali has always been,” says Susheel Gupta, a veteran cracker salesman “people have always wanted bigger and louder explosions.”

However fire-crackers available today are more dangerous than ever before nearly similar to homemade explosives. Easily available to young children at local markets these crackers are a serious cause of concern.

“We like to scare people by throwing crackers near them”, says Abhilash, 13, of Defence Colony “but we make sure nobody gets hurt.” In a climate tense with security concerns, terrorist attacks and such juvenile danger to the public why aren’t these explosives regulated by the government?

Such a blasé disregard for the capitol’s safety is true cause for concern as Diwali allows for easy hoarding for such armaments for later use by dangerous organizations in effect turning Delhi into a minefield.

Israel and Palestine: A Theatre of the Absurd

An Editorial

“Nothing to be done.”

So says Estragon, beginning Samuel Beckett’s post modern magnum opus which simply sums up the state of human kind. He might as well have been speaking of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict; a story of two neighbors perennially awaiting salvation in their existential flux.

Since 1948 the conflict in the region has supplied academics, policy makers, arms manufacturers and even journalists with their livelihood. With displays of support and rationalizations filling numerous libraries since then, the solution is nowhere at hand. Lost in the myriad history of diplomacy and military conflict, all that is left now are semantics and power plays.

But the hopes of the people (on both sides) that live and function daily are not lost. Each side had faith in some Greater Power (not Arafat or Sharon) to lead them into peace if not conquest. However the lesser powers leading the two nations have never held any such faith. Be it the pre-emptive attack in 1965 by Israel which annexed Gaza, Golan Heights and East Jerusalem or the Camp David meet in 2000 where even a Nobel Peace Prize proved insufficient to persuade Arafat to be reasonable and fair. The people of both nations, in however so ever varied degrees of duress, have had to accept fear and anxiety as a way of life.

With further reaching conflicts tracing back to biblical history one thing is for certain, that this spectacle of stubborn and conceited righteousness on both sides of the border does no favors for the many innocents that die under it. A true theatre of the absurd; wherein on both sides the people are but waiting for some sign of peace and stability – however one wonders if at all it serves any purpose.

Is Godot ever coming to Gaza?

Etc. in 3 Parts

1

These random whispers,

Haunting spells

Of less sanity

And pervading thoughts

Meandering my conscious mind,

A valley barren cold

The mind can ask questions

To the bodies wisdom old.

2.

Think dark thoughts

Heavy curtains of satin

Soft and tempting

A luscious and sinful sight

Dark thoughts

Like rumbling clouds

Of night breeze

And khol laden eyes

Their mystery in darkness lies

Thoughts under shadow

Under effect, not of light

Of unseen frights

Dark thoughts

Earthly delights

3.

A calm embrace

Of familiar arms,

In familiar places

From familiar faces

Is not enough

To quench this thirst

Unwittingly demands

An infinite well of sympathy

To drink, to satiate

This pain lost in dilution

Of your forgiveness

Love - the final solution

Mind the Lyrics

"...Had he come to walk among the Williamsburgers of his kingdom

And like the burghers of Calais will a sacrifice be demanded?
To offer up our dreams and beg for mercy empty-handed?
And hapless in our hipness crowded 5 to an appartment
Relegate our dreams to hobbies and deny our disappointment
Cause The Stones in '65 want total satisfaction, kid
But The Stones in '69 see grace in just getting what you need
But if that's a victory then I'd hate to see what I'd look like defeated..."

"...Where us noble starving artists are striving to feed our ego

Our mothers like our music our our friends come to our shows
And if our friends become successful, we'll consider them our foes..."

"...Is it worth being an artist or an indie-rock star, or are you better off without it?'

Cause I mean maybe the world would be better if we were all just uncreative drones,
No dead child, hood dreams to haunt us, a decent job, a decent home,
And if we have some extra time we could do real things to promote peace,
Become scientists or history teachers or un-corrupt police at least,..."

"... was starring into his sunglasses and I was really freakin' out i was like,

Steamboat Willie Bonnie Prince of all this shit, you're like the king of a certain genre
But even you must want to quit like if you hear a record by Bob Dylan or Neil Young or whatever
You must start thinkin' 'People like me, but i won't be that good ever'
And I'm sure the thing is probably Dylan himself too stayed up some nights
Wishing he was as good as Ginsberg or Camus
And he was like 'Dude, I'm such a faker, I'm just a clown who entertains
and these fools who pay for my crap, they just have pathetic punny brains
and Camus probably wished he was Milton too or whatever, you know what i'm sayin'?!'..."

"...But whether it was him or not I couldn't forget the words he'd spoken

'Artists are pussies', like we're wusses or we end up getting fucked
And other kinds of folks are dicks, tall, smart and strong
And born to fuck us up I know,
It sounds really sexist and stupid,
It's a terrible analogy but at that moment on the train tracks,
It made a lot of sense to me maybe it's just some kind of natural balance,
Like 2 types of mental gender that's gone on in all societies,
In one form or another like some dicks were born to conquer,
I probably would if I could but if i'm just a pussy, that's okay
Cause in a few months maybe, I'll put out something good...."