A repertoire of festivals & festivities

A repertoire of festivals & festivities

 

Bonfire during Lohri

 

Having spent my childhood cocooned & nestled in the hills in Himachal Pradesh, we were pretty much isolated from the mainstream festivities of the Bengalis living in the plains. During the early seventies, transportation was not as easy as it has become today and to add to this predicament further, we could only descend to the plains below during the months of December to February, when our schools closed for annual vacations. During this period there were hardly any festivities in Bengal, except for the ‘Makar Shankranti’ festival that coincided with the Lohri festivities in North India read Himachal Pradesh. Since our sojourn to the plains usually took place only once in two years, as my late father, being a Government Servant, was entitled for ‘Leave Travel Concession’ for his home town, only twice in a block year of four years. This journey in itself an Herculean effort, as we did honors to almost all kinds of means of transportation available, having started our initial journey by Bus upto Kalka and from thence by train i.e. the famous Kalka-Howrah Mail, a travail of three days & two nights, which culminated in Air travel from Calcutta (as it was known in those bygone days) to Agartala and final stretch by Bus/shared Taxi. Thus, as we mostly stayed put in Himachal and enjoyed the fervor & pitch of the local festivities, rather than that of our own kinsmen.

 

Being snow clad during the winter months, with heavy woolens as compulsory companions, the festival of Lohri was enjoyed with much pomp & show during the month of January every year. The local lads would gather together during the evenings of the days preceding the festival day and move from house to house, singing in chorus or more appropriately a cacophony, of a song dedicated for the occasion, which started and sounded as – “Sundri, Mundri ho! Tera kya byahaya ho!........”. This cacophony would continue till such time that the master of the house would make some monetary offering to them and in those days a 25 np offering was considered a handsome amount. The children would then add up all the collections and go to the market to buy the necessary condiments for the festival i.e.Mungphali (Peanuts), puffed maize (something like pop-corns) and Rewris (confectionary made of raw sugar (gur) coated with til/sesame seeds). Since the other main ingredient i.e. fire wood, was available in plenty and free of cost, these children would collect the same from the nearby woods and build a huge fire in the evening and celebrate Lohri by tossing in a few of the condiments and consuming the remaining to their hearts content. 

 

Juxtaposed to this, the festival of ‘Makar Shankranti’ that is celebrated in Bengal, here the celebrations started very early in the morning, the children and adult alike would get up much before sunrise and take a bath. Thereafter, they would all proceed to the grounds where the children & young men would have constructed a straw hut, which would be set alight just before sunrise. This ritual was said to be indicative of end of winter solstice and harbinger of the spring season. The day of rejoicing would continue with ladies of the house engaged in preparation of various sweet meats called as Pitha & Puli, which were essentially made of rice powder, Coconut & sugar derivatives including raw sugar extracted from the Palm trees called locally as Nalen/Patali Gur. We all had a blast eating the sweet meats to our hearts content. These were the only festivals which I had a chance of experience first hand during the yesteryears.

 

Saraswati Puja in Himachal Pradesh during 1960's

 

Saraswati Puja celebrations at present

 

The next festivity that comes to mind is Basant Panchami & Saraswati Puja. As there were very few Bengalis in our township, yet the community got together to celebrate the festival. Due to lack of artisans & proximity from Bengal, the idol required for worship was not available in its clay form idol as is used in Bengal, but our parents did the honors by installing a cardboard painted image of Goddess Saraswati, praying for our prosperity & dexterity with the pen & the knowledge of books.   Next to this Bengali festival, came the joyous festival of colors or Holi, which was celebrated with much pomp & fervor. Although by the time this festival arrived in Himachal, the nip of extremely cold air would all but have disappeared from the air, yet it was not all that warm enough, so as to afford us the luxury of playing Holi with water colors. Thus, the Holi essentially was restricted to use of dry Gulal (natural colors), rather than water colors as has become the norm of the plains in North India at present. Being a small township, where most people knew each other, more or less, the day would begin with people gathering on street corners and from thereon proceed to houses of all known families, where we would exchange colors & pleasantries. However, the main interest of children like us was to gorge in as many sweet meats that were made available to us. Thus, this festival has remained etched in my memory as one of my favorite childhood festivals.

Children smeared in colours during Holi

 

There were no other festivities during the summer season and just after the monsoons started abating, first came the local fair/mela, which was an annual event that we all looked forwarded to. Being a small nondescript Cantonment area, we were not exposed to the new toys & other smaller products that the children staying in the cities & towns in the plains were privy to, thus, we children especially looked forward to this fair to buy a few new products etc. (read toys). The fair also hosted, at times, moving Zoo wherein we could watch the dancing bears, Lions & tigers in small cages, alongwith few deformed creatures and the motorcycle in the well stunt was the main attraction. But the event we kids looked forward to was the local ‘Dangal’ (Wrestling tournament), which carried a prize money as trophy and wrestlers, both known & unknown, came from the nearby villages to try their skills & luck to win the coveted prize money. Huge bodied, pot belied, lanky, tall, short, squat etc., that is in short, men of all connotations & descriptions, attired in miniscule langots (a kind of undergarment) and with mud from the arena smeared all over their bodies. There were several rounds of wrestling bouts amongst the contenders, with the drummers (read ‘Dholki-wallahs’) moving around the mud pit (‘Akhara’) beating up a crescendo and the commentator eulogizing the credentials of the participating contenders and also simultaneously describing the various postures being adopted by the contenders. The sound of the beating drums alongwith the announcements being made over the loudspeakers would reverberate across the valley.

 

Shortly, after this annual fair, the township would celebrate the joyous occasion of birth of Lord Krishna, known locally as ‘Janamasthami’. This event was celebrated with much pomp and show, with various temples and institutions jumping into the fray of creating illuminated shows depicting birth of Lord Krishna. As the availability of coloured illumination, through display of an array of coloured lights was a rare sight in those days, we would accompany our parents to as many venues as possible, just to witness these displays, which appeared nothing short of spectacular to us.

 

Heads of Ravana being readied for Dusshera

 

The next festival that invokes very sweet memories of yesteryears is the festival ofDusshera. This festival remains etched my memory because of the sheer pleasure of pomp & show that I enjoyed therein. A few days ahead of the festival, the daily rendition of Ramyana through staging of Ramlilas as stage shows, was an event we looked forward to eagerly. As I have already informed that the place was a Cantonment area and thus, there was strict vigil on entry & exit of persons etc. and this resulted in lack of permission for mass public gatherings. The festival of Dusshera, which is known for the culmination in death of Ravana and consequential traditional depiction of the same by burning of effigies, was held at a small hamlet about 4 Kms. downhill. It was an annual pilgrimage for us and my earliest remembrance of the event was that we all, accompanied with our family friends, would trudge downhill to this small hamlet. Wherein the area staging the event got even more constricted and at times got so congested with the crowd of people that I almost got claustrophobic, until I would be lifted on to the shoulders to watch the demise of Ravana by the hands of Lord Rama. As I was afraid of sounds emitted by fire-crackers, this part was not all that special for me and my favorite part came thereafter. After the demise of Ravana, we all started our trudge back uphill towards our home. My father would purchase about 2 odd Kilos of piping hot Jalebis (a kind of sweetmeat), packed in two large paper carry bags. We would consume one such packet on our way back while trudging uphill, piggyback riding my father & his friends (usually from the Armed forces) and the remaining would be consumed at home alongwith piping hot pakoras & tea, whence we returned home. With the weather taking a downturn towards the colder winter days ahead, this journey was almost like a pilgrimage for me.  This joyous occassion is also celebrated asDurga Puja by the Bengalis with much fanfare and runs over several days.  However, since the number of Bengali families residing in this small township were very few, one could not manage to perform the Durga Puja, but the festivity was remembered and celebrated in form of a community lunch organized and prepared by them as Vijaya Dashami.

 

Community lunch being organized in 1960's on occassion of Vijaya Dashami in Kasauli

 

Present day Durga Puja celebrations

 

Closely followed by the Dusshera, came the ‘festival of lights’ called Diwali, which was celebrated as the joyous occasion of return of Lord Rama to his Kingdom in Ayodhya after defeating Ravana.   As I have already placed on record that I was much afraid of the sound generated by fire-crackers I despised this festival, except for the fact that it brought in loads of sweet-meat & candies of many sizes & shapes, which I devoured over the days succeeding the event. However, the scenic beauty generated by the series of burning candles, placed in rows on the long wooden verandahs, against the backdrop of dark looming valley, speckled with dots of lighting scattered here & there, was a true visual treat which can not be described or perceived through words and is to be seen to be believed. During this particular festivity, the Bengalis celebrate the festival of Kali Puja, which is another joyous occasion, with the actual puja being performed at around mid-night. Although, it may not appear to be very appeasing for the taste of some sects of our society, yet this Puja is marked with appeasement of theGoddess Kali, with animal sacrifices and these offerings being made are cooked into a Prasad and distributed amongst the devotees. Bengalis are known for their affinity for non-vegetarian food and thus, this festival is a favourite of many including me.

 

The festival of lights - Diwali

 

The festival of lights - Diwali being celebrated in Kasauli in 1960's

 

Kali Puja being performed on the night of Diwali
 

            The end of season came with the advent of Christmas and we having studied in a Convent School, would trudge through the snow to greet the Sisters in the Convent, who stayed back during the winter vacations for the occasion, during those years when we did not visit our native state. We would be fed with copious amounts of ‘Plum Cake’ by the Sisters and on our way back, we would also make it a point to meet the local Pastor, who would give us beautiful Christmas Cards, which we kept as treasured collections for years to come. 

 

All clad in snow - Kasauli church - harbinger of Christmas

 

Life at a nondescript place, in a erstwhile remote hill state, during the early seventies, may seem to be lackluster for many, but these repertoire of festivals which we enjoyed, as being our own, shall for ever linger in my memories, ‘Cultural unity amongst diversity’ in its truest sense & meaning.

(The black & white photographs are courtesy my father's collection - Late Sh. J.N. Roy Biswas)

© S Roy Biswas., all rights reserved.