Bengal’s Economy Has Always Relied on the Durga Puja – Will This Prove Much Too Dear This Time?

Protests and the lack of opportunities has led to thinning excitement for the busiest time for retail business in the state.

Kolkata: The usually bustling footpaths of Gariahat, known for their crowds of last-minute shoppers, are unusually quiet this year except for the weekends. Just days before the start of Durga Puja festivities, Kolkata’s signature festive energy feels subdued. The typical hustle and bustle in popular shopping hubs like Gariahat in south Kolkata and Hatibagan in the north, is noticeably lacking. Footpaths that are usually packed with eager shoppers seem sparse, and even the vendors’ calls for discounts have lost their usual vigour.

Though thousands have already taken to the streets for pandal hopping, ongoing protests and economic uncertainties have cast a shadow over the shopping season, leaving many businesses concerned about their sales.

“Who would believe Durga Puja is not even a week away? People aren’t coming out in numbers for their last-minute shopping this time,” said Panchu Saha, a roadside shopkeeper in Gariahat. 

In anticipation of large crowds during Durga Puja, the police had set up barricades and ropes at the Gariahat crossing. However, with the turnout lower than expected, these preparations went unused for large parts of the day. A police officer on duty noted, “Managing the parking of cars here before the Durga Puja used to be a nightmare. This year, it’s the same story, except this time we are managing protest rallies.”

Also read: A Durga Puja Like No Other: R.G. Kar Protests Cast Shadow over Festivities in Kolkata

Protests

Protests against the R.G. Kar rape and murder, and the state government’s reaction to it, continue unabated.

New Market, in central Kolkata, has presented a slightly different scene. By the afternoon of the last weekend before Durga Puja, the crowds of shoppers had begun to swell. 

Asmita Sengupta, carrying shopping bags as she hurried through New Market Square, shared, “Normally, the festive mood kicks off a month before Puja, with shopping. But given the current circumstances, the festivities don’t feel right. Children don’t understand much about what’s going on, so I bought something for them.”

Preparations begin for another protest against the R.G. Kar incident in central Kolkata. Photo: Joydeep Sarkar

Mausum Khan, a vendor selling goods on the footpath at New Market, gestured to a protest march on her phone and said, “Many people aren’t thinking about the Puja now. It’s only the fire of protest that’s burning in their minds.”

Durga Puja is the busiest season for retail business in West Bengal. Many blue-collar workers and state government employees receive bonuses during this time, stimulating a surge in consumer spending. For small retailers, especially in mass markets like Gariahat and Hatibagan, Puja sales are crucial for boosting their annual income.

Gupta Enterprises, a wholesale garment supplier to the entire state from Kolkata’s Burrabazar, painted a gloomy picture. Nilom Gupta, one of the directors, said, “It’s a long-standing tradition in this state to buy new clothes and household items for the next twelve months with this extra money. This time too, we have sent goods as per orders from various districts. We have not received any new orders in the the past two weeks, I’m a little surprised.”

What the numbers say

“This year, the market has been sluggish. A month was lost to protests. So, this year, we’ve had only 11 months of business. Compared to last year, our sales have decreased by 35% one week before Puja. Our average sales, which are typically higher in Kolkata, are much lower this time,” remarked Ramesh Pandey, an official running a shopping mall in Kolkata. 

According to the Kolkata Street Hawkers’ Union, the number of hawkers in Kolkata has increased steadily from 191,000 in 2011, with an annual growth rate of 0.8-0.9%. The pandemic further fuelled this growth as some unemployed individuals turned to street vending. With approximately 210,000 hawkers in Kolkata, the decline in sales during this year’s Puja season has come as a shock.

“Our estimates indicate a 45-50% drop in pre-Puja sales compared to previous years. We’ve spoken to regular customers and identified three main factors contributing to this decline. Despite rising prices, low-income buyers have experienced a decrease in income. This, coupled with job losses, has negatively impacted the market. Additionally, the eviction of hawkers has further worsened the situation,” said Asitanga Ganguly, a leader of the Left-affiliated Hawkers’ Union.

Sidewalk hawkers’ stores at Kolkata. Photo: Joydeep Sarkar

A dismal picture

Beyond the cultural spectacle, Durga Puja provides employment for nearly 3 lakh individuals in West Bengal. The surge in consumer spending during the festival has a multiplier effect, positively impacting the state’s overall economy. 

A 2019 study by the British Council estimated the economic value of creative industries associated with Durga Puja in West Bengal at Rs 32,377 crores (2.6% of the state’s GDP). With government support and incentives, this figure has reportedly risen to Rs 50,000 crores in recent years. To put this in perspective, renowned global festivals like Rio Carnival, Hanami, Oktoberfest, San Fermín, and Mardi Gras contribute between 1.35%-2.25% of their respective economies. However, many economists caution about the state’s over-reliance on a single festival. 

“The state’s reliance on subsidies and incentives to stimulate demand had proven ineffective. By neglecting investment, the strategy worsened supply-side constraints. Consequently, Bengal, historically a low-inflation state, experienced consistently higher inflation rates than the national average,” said economist Indranil Dasgupta. 

Adding to the challenges, mid-September floods devastated six districts, leaving many unable to participate in the usual Puja shopping frenzy.

“This Puja market has been declining since 2016, first with demonetisation, then GST, COVID, and now the protests,” said Sekh Azizur Rahman, a long-time roadside vendor in South Kolkata’s Gariahat. “Last year, I made Rs 1,700-2,600 daily. Today, I’ve sold goods worth only Rs 700. Can you imagine how bad the market is?”

Translated from the Bengali original by Aparna Bhattacharya.

Why the Asur Community in Bengal Mourns During Durga Puja

During the five days of Durga Puja, while most of Bengal participates in celebrations, the Asur community practices seclusion, locking themselves indoors to mourn the slaying of Mahishasur, who they believe is their ancestor.

Nagrakata (Bengal): “We do not celebrate Durga Puja,” says Bina Asur.

“No one in our community goes to see the idols during the festivities. They think it is a sin to see an ancestor of our community, the Asurs, being killed by Ma Durga. Many in the older generations observe fasts and weep during the Durga Puja festival. These are old customs,” she adds.

In her late 50s, Bina resides in Nagrakata village in the hilly region bordering Bhutan in West Bengal’s Jalpaiguri district. She is one of the remaining members of the Asur tribe in the state, a small Austroasiatic ethnic group who live in West Bengal, Assam, Odisha, Meghalaya, and Jharkhand. The Asur people believe themselves to be descendants of Mahishasur, who, in Hindu mythology, was defeated by the goddess Durga.

An elder of the Asur community in Nagrakata, Bengal. Photo: Joydeep Sarkar

During the five days of Durga Puja, while most of Bengal participates in celebrations, the Asur community practices seclusion, locking themselves indoors to mourn the slaying of Mahishasur. The elders of the community say that this mourning is rooted in the mythical fear of being deceived. 

According to anthropologists, the Asurs were forced to leave the Indus Valley by the Aryans, and migrated to Netarhat in the Chota Nagpur Plateau, which has been inhabited by various tribes for many centuries. In the 19th century, the British relocated them to North Bengal to work at the tea plantations. As per the 2011 census, there are 4,861 people from the Asur tribe currently living in West Bengal. 

But there is a real and pressing fear that also grips the community – their uncertain citizenship status. 

“We are in great danger, we have no papers. I went to the tea garden manager who employs us and they assured us that they will put it in writing that we have been working for many, many years. But these assurances do not hold much legal weight,” Bina says.

Bina Asur. Photo: Joydeep Sarkar.

An elderly man says that many Asurs were treated as pariahs due to their last name and converted to Christianity to escape such censure. He also cites the example of Assam and its detention camps.

The literacy rate within the community is low at 45%. In the Dooars region, the majority of Asur community, including Bina, are employed in the tea estates. At the Carron tea estate, all 53 houses in which the Asurs live are mud and bamboo huts with tin sheds.

They were recognised as a Scheduled Tribe only in 2014, after years of struggle. But community members feel that the benefits of government schemes are yet to reach them.

“For many years, we have been hearing that the government will provide houses as part of a scheme. However, to be eligible for a house, one must have the land registered in their name. I earn Rs 225 after working all day, and there is no concept of savings in the tea garden. How are we supposed to buy land in these circumstances?” asked Bina.

In the village, there is just one car, an aging Tata Sumo, prominently displaying the word ‘JESUS’ on its front. It is the only way of transporting ailing individuals to nearby towns, and it is highly valued by the local community. The community-owned car stands as a symbol of pride and is parked at a central place within the settlement.

The car which doubles as an ambulance. Photo: Joydeep Sarkar.

One of the elder members of the community reflects, “Once upon a time, our ancestors were defeated by Ma Durga. Now, the government may seek to displace us, even imprison us. But we will resist and stand our ground. We are the descendants of the Asur. We understand the art of fighting!”

(Translated from the Bengali original by Aparna Bhattacharya)

Durga and Dystopia

‘The vanquisher will be a mute spectator to the virus of the ego’.

In the autumn of the pandemic,
At the holy occasion of Durga Pujo,
Goddess Durga will wear a mask,
And descend on the
Blue-saffron turf
of volatile Bengal,
Amid white, wispy surf
Of quivering Kash
And a tally of co-morbidities.

The goddess will unite with the chimes,
Of followers, bhakts and trolls alike,
In a corporate copyright of the coronavirus—
What bigger theme, reason or rhyme?

The fiery locks of the goddess—
DIY-streaked in auburn,
Or highlighted in Balayage gold—
Her zardozi in gold or green modest
Or red-cream garads—drapes of divinity;
Studded golden treasures and
Navel-hugging necklaces
Outsmarting Sensex surges.

Bronzed, highlighted cheeks
Or plum, rotund faces,
Flashes of Greek girl bold or
Bengali motherly gleams,
All bearing the signature of labels,
Party patronage or contested claims;
Only the eyes—the artist’s hallmark—
Perched above masked fables,
Untouched by the propaganda
Will express a visual poetry;
Angry yet kind, pained yet not judging,
Dark yet glowing, doe-like but not distant.

The anti-national painted in phobia,
The asura, the other—
Will be clothed in coverings
Of our collective xenophobia,
Masking class tensions old and new—
Like the pandal entry fences,
Lines cordoning off pedestrians
from privy VIP gates,
Guilt perfumed in cherry and blue—
Like the status-coded shindoor khela,
A sisterhood of the uppity ups,
Cushioned in a vermilion embrace.

The pundit will
Sanitise his hands before
Commencing the purifying rituals—
Science over the sacred bill.
Visitors too will wear masks
And maintain physical distancing
In remembrance
Of the petty bourgeois cask,
And a downward appreciation of the
Revered Slayer and Domestic Mother.
For Durga was held captive,
Divine hostage to the mortal virus,
A meek mother to the mutiny unborn—
Mute Chimera of the crying lot.

Sanitiser booths will be stationed
across mandaps
Oozing creativity in shapes and sizes—
There will be themes too—
Themes of migrant marchers,
Of trains crushing bodies,
Of women delivering babies on roads—
Corporate blood will boil then
As brands will sponsor themes of
Disease, desolation and disparity,
Local leaders will join
To wrap the themes in neon bubbles
Of social responsibility—
Awakened well in time.

In the autumn of the pandemic,
At the holy occasion of Durga Pujo,
The vanquisher will be a mute spectator
to the virus of the ego—
Played out in the blue-saffron turf
of diseased Bengal,
Of political factions and sub-factions,
Of groups and sub-groups littering localities.

The goddess will wear a mask
When she will have to depart for home;
She will burst out of her quarantine at every
Instance of her untimely invocation
Akal Bodhan
She will be the masked neutral judge;
Voiceless for the suffering and
An indulgent Mother to ignorant voters of faith—
The clubs where peers unite in crimes
Of colossal apathy and gross inequality.

Sanhati Banerjee is a Kolkata-based independent journalist.

Featured image credit: Boudhayan Bardhan/Unsplash