So what is a festival about really ?

I am lucky to be in India – the land of festivals. There are a million of them here and at all times of the year. And each one has its own essence – a special context. Every community participates in all these festivals, their involvement varying with the perceived congruence of the particular festival with the religion, customs and traditions of the community.

So to come back to the question – what is a festival about ? Various answers come to mind. Celebration of a historical or mythical event. A traditional gathering of people with a common purpose. A place to sell your wares maybe …

But behind all the stated objectives of the festival – is the one important and subliminally understood objective. And that is to let go of the daily drudgery and enjoy the company of like minded and happy people. To elevate ourselves from the constructs of our daily routine and give vent to our primal need to feel joy.

And so it was during Durga puja. At least till the last year. But before I go ahead with my story – let me explain a little about Goddess Durga and her mythical essence.

Once upon a time the Asuras ( read the diabolical beings ) became so strong that even the gods were unable to overcome them. So they approached Lord Shiva for a solution. Lord Shiva in all his glory opened his third eye and conceived of a female being of immense power. She was Durga. And she overcame the strongest of the Asuras – Mahisasur. Thus the gods were able to regain control over heaven and earth.

Goddess Durga symbolizes shakti, the raw unimaginable power of goodness which can overcome the greatest of vices.

But sadly the message was totally lost on our population during this years Durga puja. Coming at the end of a series of bomb blasts and terror attacks – this years puja was a celebration of fear and not of the forces that overcome fear. Yes there was the usual shamiana with the huge idol of Durga. There were also a multitude of stalls selling food of all kinds. There was music and people danced on makeshift stages. However, among all this there was another very incongruous entity.

The gun toting law enforcement people. And they walked proudly among the revelers with their three foot guns, glaring at everyone that came in their path. And with them came gloom. More than the terrorists, the sight of commandos with their Ak-47s struck fear into the heart of every reveler.

Some said it was necessary – that the safety of the revelers was most important. Some said that it was a bit too much. But all agreed that the revelry had almost but disappeared. And all that was left was the drudgery of our common lives. It was the same policeman breathing down everyone’s neck. It was the same standing in line to get frisked. It was the same shutting down everything by the midnight hour. And most importantly it was the same fear that we felt for the past many weeks.

As the puja ended – it left a queer feeling in my mind. Suddenly it seemed that we can never go back to enjoying our festivals like we did before. As if all our senses had been over powered by the fear emanating from within us. A fear that cannot be cured by twenty policemen or one hundred commandos. The overwhelming fear of knowing that death awaits us whenever and wherever we get together in large numbers to celebrate.

The festival season has almost come to an end this year. But the festival has ended a long time ago. We are now like shadows of our joyous selves. Treading with cautious steps, awaiting our end in the form of that mysterious packet of explosives left in the midst of us. And the gun-toting policemen just keep reminding us of this fear within.

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