- Oct 06, 2025
- B S Murthy
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Back to Square One on the Writing Board
So to say, in its origins, the writing board consisted of the ‘rectangles of recognition’ over which, over time, the ‘pillars of popularity’ were formed that held the interests of the literature and the writers alike for long. However, in the latter part of the last century, this ‘from bottom to top’ order was turned topsy-turvy under the ‘pyramids of publicity’ erected by the publisher-media nexus to promote the writers with the right connections. When it seemed all was irrevocably lost to the unconnected authors, came the internet to usher in the e-book revolution, followed by the social media explosion that once again restored the rectangles of recognition, albeit in unruly profusion. All the same, it’s absurd that the daily churning of the writing mill of the day dwarfs the literary output of any yester-century, given even the enhanced social literacy! By and large, this is in the Indian context that may hold good everywhere else, and if only you bear with me, I will have a chance to explain this anomaly in the world of letters. To start with, man would have made his mark with his brawn and woman with her beauty, and with time, the skill sets too came into the construct of the ‘rectangles of recognition’ in their respective communes. In time, though, with the formation of broader societies, still on narrow communal lines, as the rectangles too got widened, recognition needed the word-of-mouth to fill the enlarged spaces. Eventually, the societal sophistication that ensued the evolution of arts had ensured the formation of the ‘pillars of popularity’ over the enlarged ‘rectangles of recognition’, which was from bottom to top, that is fair and square for praise and patronage. However, the advent of, from top to bottom, mainstream media altered all that for the writers but yet the ‘rectangles of recognition’ continue to cater to the modest causes of the singers, the dancers, the painters, the sculptures and such visual artists, more or less that is, even in our era of overwhelming publicity. However, unlike the visual arts, as the written words cannot be appraised on sight, writers have always been handicapped in the arena of recognition, and if anything, in the world of printed words, the publisher-media nexus dealt them a double whammy, more so in the recent past. With this vexatious commercial nexus pitchforking their favoured folks, aided by the literary editors, as published authors into the public limelight, the genuine writers got relegated to the scornful arena of self-publishing. Incredible though, that was when the mere sale of five hundred copies of a published tome used to earn the writers the successful author tag in the newspapers’ literary supplements and the magazines’ book columns with guaranteed pre-launch interviews for their subsequent publications. But God only knows how many of those five-hundred ‘sold’ books forever remained as showpieces in their buyers’ book racks even as their authors wormed their way into a million minds of media-consumers. Yet, in the make-believe world of letters, it is the media awareness that imparts a literary touch to the goings on in the learned drawing rooms that is besides scoring points in the quiz competitions, if one happens to be a participant. Why, the media itself, the mother of publicity, fares no better in its eulogical obituaries of the famous writers, mostly of its own creation, for it seldom quotes a sentence or two from their writings as a measure of their literary worth. However, as it seemed all was over bar sighing of the genuine writers, in came the internet with a formidable e-publishing space for their works as if to free the literature from the publishers’ prejudicial editorial grip and to directly deliver their e-books into the readers’ digital laps to sort them out for themselves. Laudable though this literary freedom is in principle, yet in practice, so to say, the internet has wide opened the floodgates of writing, thereby enabling even those who have no business to write, to inundate the e-book world with all sorts of imitative works. If only the aspiring writers would read Leo Tolstoy’s What is Art in which he articulated that to be qualified as an art, be it a good art or a bad art, the work must be original foremost, as otherwise, it’s just an imitation, and nothing else. With the entry of the bloggers and the bots alike into the ever-expanding e-book arena to serve the illiteracy cause of the intruders, yet again, it’s a theatre of the absurd for the destined writers. So, be it the mainstream media or the social media, in either case, the commercial pull has been inexorably pulling down the literary standards. Have you heard any author of the day say that he was influenced by the writings of Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Turgenev, Gogol, Proust, Zola, Flaubert, or Fontaine, to name a few! So, to best describe the state of the current literature, barring honourable exceptions, as an analogy, one may borrow the old computer adage – garbage in, garbage out. But yet, on balance, the democratic world in the web world is far more conducive for the survival of the genuine literature than the literary tyranny of the publishing world. Image provided by the author.- Oct 04, 2025
- Bidhayak Das Purkayastha
From Farewell to Renewal: The Immersion of Durga and the Resurrection of Bhandani
When the joyous resonance of “Durga Ma Ki Jai” fades into silence and the goddess is immersed in the sacred rivers on ‘Dashami’, an aching emptiness descends across the hearts of Bengalis. For most, Durga Puja culminates in this bittersweet moment – the celebration of victory dissolving into the sorrow of farewell. Yet, in the heartlands of North Bengal – in Jalpaiguri, Alipurduar, Cooch Behar and Dooars – this grief does not linger. Instead, a remarkable tradition unfolds. On ‘Ekadashi’, just one day after Dashami, a new goddess emerges – “Devi Bhandani”, the blessed mother of the Rajbongshi community. For them, farewell is not the end, but the beginning of renewal. Bhandani: The Village Goddess of Simplicity Unlike the familiar Durga of Bengal’s grand autumnal festival, Bhandani is not the ‘Mahishasurmardini’, the ten-armed slayer of demons. Instead, she is depicted as an ordinary woman with two hands, tender and approachable, yet carrying divine grace. Her mount is not on the lion but the ‘tiger’, a reflection of the once-prevalent Royal Bengal tigers of Baikanthapur forest. Lakshmi, Saraswati, Kartikeya and Ganesha accompany Bhandani. But her iconography omits the violent imagery of demon-slaying. Here, she is not the warrior goddess but the nurturing guardian of crops, forests and households. As an elder of the Rajbongshi community once explained in an oral account: "Bhandani Maa is not the goddess of war. She is the goddess of our fields, our granaries and our homes. She is the daughter who always comes back." The Legend: When Durga Lost Her Way The most popular legend narrates that after her immersion on Dashami, Durga, while returning to Kailash, lost her way in the dense forests of North Bengal. In the dark of night, villagers heard the sound of a young bride weeping. Out of compassion, they sheltered her. The next morning, before departing, she revealed her true identity. Deeply moved by their kindness, she blessed them: “Your harvests will be abundant, your granaries never empty, for you gave shelter to me when I was lost.” This story, retold for generations, anchors Bhandani as both goddess and guest – forever tied to the soil and spirit of the Rajbongshi community. Historical Roots: A Festival of Innovation and Identity Scholars trace the Bhandani Puja back nearly five centuries. In medieval Bengal, Durga Puja could only be organised with the sanction and financial support of local kings or zamindars. The Rajbongshi peasants, unable to bear such costs, innovated their own ritual: Bhandani Puja – a festival humbler in form but equally divine in spirit. As folklorist Sailen Debnath observes in his studies on North Bengal: “Bhandani Puja is a unique blend of necessity and creativity. It allowed the Rajbongshis to remain connected to Durga while crafting a goddess in their own image – rooted in their ecology, economy and community.” Thus, Bhandani was not just a substitute for Durga, but an assertion of cultural autonomy and ethnic identity. Rituals and Festivities: From Ekadashi to Lakshmi Puja The celebration begins on Ekadashi, a day after Dashami, with Jatra Puja – a ritual invoking prosperity for crops and cultivation. The festivities continue for four days, extending in some places up to Lakshmi Puja. Villages such as Mainaguri, Dhupguri, Malbazar, Meteli, Barnish Gram and Shalkumarhat and parts of Dooars transform into festive grounds. The highlight is the fairs (melas) that last throughout the night. Stalls brim with handicrafts, local delicacies and folk games; jatra troupes perform plays under makeshift bamboo stages; farmers, artisans and tea garden workers gather in joyous celebration. The Baghrabahani Bhandani Puja is particularly renowned, its rituals steeped in Tantric traditions that lend the festival an aura of mystery. For the agrarian Rajbongshi community, Bhandani Puja is more than worship – it is a festival of livelihood and economy, weaving together faith, markets and rural entertainment. Socio-Cultural Significance: Beyond the Rajbongshis While originally rooted in the Rajbongshi community, the festival today draws participation from a mosaic of groups – tribal communities, tea plantation workers and neighbouring Bengali Hindus. It has become a multi-ethnic rural carnival, reflecting the plural spirit of North Bengal. Anthropologist Dipak K. Roy describes this beautifully- “Bhandani Puja reveals how faith negotiates with geography. Where forests dominate and farming sustains life, the goddess must embody both ecology and fertility. Bhandani is precisely that – she is the sacred daughter of the soil.” Thus, the festival embodies not just religion, but ethnic resilience, ecological consciousness and community solidarity. From Dashami’s Tears to Ekadashi’s Renewal The emotional power of Bhandani Puja lies in its timing. When the rest of Bengal grieves at the departure of Maa Durga, North Bengal finds hope and joy in renewal. Dashami’s sorrow dissolves into Ekadashi’s celebrations. The rhythm of mourning and renewal reflects a deeper truth about rural life: grief is transient, but the cycles of faith and harvest always continue. In rustic folk songs sung during the fairs, one often hears verses like: “Dashami took her away, but Ekadashi brings her back, O Bhandani Maa, fill our homes, guard our fields, Never let our granaries lack.” The Eternal Guest of The Villages Bhandani Puja is not a mere extension of Durga Puja. It is a living chronicle of folklore, faith and survival. It tells the story of how villagers once sheltered a lost goddess and, in return, she became their eternal guest – blessing their fields and homes with abundance. The myth of Bhandani is precisely such a truth – an enduring cultural memory where the goddess is not distant, but intimate; not a slayer of demons, but a mother of soil and harvest. Thus, every year in the villages of North Bengal, when Durga Puja bids farewell on Dashami, Bhandani rises on Ekadashi, reminding her devotees that endings are never final, and that renewal always follows farewell.Reports View All
