Durga Pujo 2024: A Festival and Injustice at Crossroads

The air in West Bengal is usually electric and thick with joy this time of year. Streets buzz with the sounds of hammers and saws as artisans build elaborate pandals—temporary shrines that transform the cityscape during Durga Pujo. But this October, as Kolkata prepares for its most cherished festival, a pall of grief hangs over the celebrations. Will it truly be a celebration considering recent events that have left the masses protesting on the streets for over a month?

Parallel to the 9-day Dussehra festival, Durga Pujo will be celebrated from 9th to 13th October this year. Traditionally it draws millions back to their ancestral homes, pumping roughly NZ$9.5 billion into the local economy.

Normally, the city would be almost impossible to navigate, with families weaving through packed streets, sampling street food from makeshift stalls, indulging in retail therapy, and admiring the towering pandals that showcase Bengal's artistic prowess. This year, however, many are torn between celebration and protest. Kolkata especially finds itself covered in a blanket of rage and sadness. How does one celebrate a Goddess of power and protection when the whole country mourns the rape and death of a 31-year-old trainee doctor at RG Kar College and Hospital?

The tragedy ignited widespread fury, particularly among the medical community, who found their faith in institutional protection shattered. What began as outrage over a single crime has mushroomed into a broader indictment of systemic failures and institutional indifference that has plagued the healthcare sector for years.

The case has exposed troubling layers of institutional corruption. Dr Sandip Ghosh, the hospital's principal, allegedly attempted to pass off the brutal attack as suicide and was later accused of evidence tampering. His swift reappointment to head another institution, mere hours after being forced to resign, only intensified public anger. While five suspects, including Ghosh, have been arrested, the investigation has also unearthed allegations of bribery and organ trafficking at the hospital—though these remain unproven.

The medical community's response has been unprecedented. After a brief resumption of duties in September following governmental promises of reform, doctors returned to strike on 1st October when these assurances proved hollow. And what followed? A whole lot of nothingness and a lack of accountability from government officials. On 8th October, about 50 senior doctors and faculty members have tendered their resignations —a move that has garnered widespread public support.

Against this backdrop, Durga Puja celebrations have taken on a different character. Many community clubs have declined government grants, opting for scaled-down celebrations that reflect the sombre mood. This has created a ripple effect through Kolkata's festival economy, affecting the livelihoods of countless seasonal workers.

Kumartuli, the artisan hub of Kolkata known for crafting the idols of Durga, has seen a sharp decline in orders this year. These artisans, many of whom rely almost entirely on the Durga Puja season for income, are among the hardest hit. Similarly, food vendors, small retailers and event organisers who thrive during the festival season have faced significant setbacks. For many, Durga Puja is not just a celebration but a crucial source of revenue, and the scaled-down festivities have left them struggling.

However, this does not mean that towering pandals are a rare sight this year. In true Bengali fashion, art has become a medium of protest. This year's pandals speak volumes about the community's state of

mind. In one, the goddess Durga covers her face in horror, positioned alongside a doctor's white coat. LED banners demanding justice flash through the night. Between the traditional beats of dhak drums, one can hear medical professionals distributing leaflets and raising slogans that echo through the festival grounds.

Some pandals have found innovative ways to merge tradition with contemporary concerns. In Salt Lake, a clever installation uses water droplets falling on common utensils to mimic the sacred rhythm of dhak drums while making a statement about water conservation. Another installation in Lalabagan features 8,000 live plants, speaking to environmental concerns. From replicas of the Kolkata metro to interpretations of Las Vegas spheres, the creative spirit of the city refuses to be dampened, even as it acknowledges the shadow hanging over the celebrations.

The festival has always been more than just a religious observation—it's a canvas for social commentary, a platform for artistic expression, and a lifeline for thousands of workers. This year, it has become something else as well: a reminder that even in celebration, a community can voice its dissent.

Visting resident Arnab Sinha Biswas captures the complex emotions coursing through the city: "Even as the Pujos unfold and people visit the pandals, you can feel the undercurrent of despair, disappointment, and anger. The usual enthusiasm is missing. Yet there's also hope that if there is a divine force, then this force will bring peace to the victim’s family. People are torn between wanting to keep traditions alive and wondering if a celebration is appropriate right now—guilt weighs heavily on everyone's minds."

Maitreyee Chakraborti of a random think weighs in as well: “The crowds are noticeably thinner this year, with traditionally congested areas surprisingly accessible—perhaps a form of silent protest. Pandals are smaller and women-centric - which shows that they’ve rejected money from the state government but the themes of injustice against women are a little trite in places. Almost feels like a bandwagon. I suppose it’s a good thing people have feelings about this, but Pujo essentially hasn’t stopped —NRIs are visiting and celebrations continue—yet simultaneously, junior doctors are on hunger strike. The dichotomy is real, with both sides coexisting.”

In many ways, this year’s Durga Puja encapsulates the essence of Kolkata: a city that refuses to bow, even in the face of overwhelming odds. The festival has always been a reflection of the community’s spirit, its resilience and its capacity for reinvention. This year, however, it’s also a reminder that celebration and dissent can walk hand in hand, that even in the brightest moments of joy, the shadows of protest remain. The pandals may shine, but the city’s heart is heavy. And that heaviness is something no amount of festivity can fully erase.

-Asia Media Centre