Long may festive spirit live

Ira Pande

Why is it that all our festivals leave us exhausted and broke? Year after year, I promise myself that I will not get dragged into the frenzy of the Dasehra-Diwali festivities, and each time, I find myself pulled into even more over-the-top celebrations. This is partly to do with the fact that we live in a small gated community with a large number of Bengalis in every tower and when Pujo (Durga Puja to us non-Bong infidels) comes, all Bengalis — no matter how scholarly, woke or left-leaning — become primal Hindus and drag everyone into their joyous celebrations. So, from Shashti onwards, mornings and evenings are a blur of driving to Pujo pandals (called pandles by Bongs, don’t ask me why) set up all over with noise, food and overdressed Bengalis greeting friends and old neighbours as if this is their last meeting.

In Allahabad, where I spent a large part of my youth, there were plays (the most lurid jatras actually), fashionable women who painted their faces with totally unsuitable make-up, along with drumbeats and Bengali music played at decibel levels that made you deaf for at least a day. For us UP walas, when strict vegetarianism was observed over Navratri, with women fasting on all nine days of the festival, the Bengali feasts were a delightful permission to cheat as we gobbled fish, meat and chicken slyly.

Yet, for all my carping, there is an endearing innocence about the enthusiasm with which this grand celebration has been adopted across the country. Why Puja alone, now we have been introduced to garba by the Gujaratis, Chhath puja by the Biharis, Eid feasts by our Muslim friends, Christmas Eve dinners with Christian friends, and we eat and dance with all of them. What disturbs me is just the reckless spending that goes with these festivals. Now that commercial benefits have taken hold of such occasions, the true festive spirit has gone missing even as the feasting and dressing up, the exchange of gifts and the introduction of ever-new occasions are thrust upon us (an example is Halloween, when little children dress up as ghosts and monsters and come for sweets and treats). Rare is the family where sweets are made at home now and Swiggy and Zomato do a brisk trade as they bring food ordered from outside to us. What all this food overkill is doing to obese kids, and their even more obese parents, is another worry.

For all this, I hope we continue to enjoy our festivals as lustily as we do and bring our diverse communities closer together. When I look at what religious intolerance has done to the rest of the world, I bless the syncretic traditions of our land where we all participate in every celebration of every community. Long may this spirit live!

Last week, apart from the Navratri-Puja hysteria, we went to Kanpur to be present as IIT-Kanpur dedicated a Centre for Integrated Language Studies in my mother’s name on her centenary birthday. My brother has endowed a handsome sum to his alma mater and this was one of the fruits of that grant. It was my first visit to the IIT there and its enormous spread, architecture and the students and faculty won me over. I even spotted a Shiv Singh metal sculpture set in front of their huge library complex and was thrilled I had guessed its creator’s name correctly. Shiv Singh and his charming wife Gisela and their naughty but loveable son, Jasvin, were our neighbours in Sector 7, Chandigarh, years and years ago. He gifted us some beautiful water colours he’d done and these are proudly displayed in our home.

To come to the IIT language centre, I was delighted that it will help all those students who struggle with English to access teaching materials in multiple Indian languages. This is a great idea and a major cause for the lack of confidence and marginalisation of a certain segment of students. Nothing would have pleased my polyglot mother more than to bring a sense of belonging to such students who battle loneliness, and often succumb to depression and drugs. The importance of English in higher education is undeniable, but even more crucial is enabling those who have not had an English-medium education to feel equal to those who have. The crippling lack of self-esteem is now widely acknowledged and if not tackled with compassion and outreach programmes, will lead to a social distancing between the Englishwalas and the bhashawalas that will do this country no good. Already, there are signs of anger and frustration in our political classes that is leading to a vengeful attitude towards those who are on the other side. This is almost as scary as religious intolerance.

Sadly, we did not have the time to visit the city and Bithoor — that has such an interesting history — but I have promised myself I will do so on my next visit. I will also eat Thaggu ke laddu and hear the humorous exchange between two Kanpuriyas, whose irreverence is famed. Once a great textile hub and famous for its tanneries, Kanpur is a shell of the Cawnpore it once was. Its famed cricket grounds, where many memorable Test matches were played, have long been outstripped by newer, shinier pitches. How sad that this glorious past is almost forgotten.

Join Whatsapp Channel of The Tribune for latest updates.

#Diwali