in search of the goddess

Calcutta, India

2016

Personal

In 2016, I ventured to Calcutta during the height of the celebration for Kali, on the no moon night that brings the city alive like no other. As dawn approached, the atmosphere buzzed with fervor, underscored by the orange glow of sodium lamps and the enticing aroma of burnt crackers. The streets, teeming with people, showcased Calcutta in all its vibrant chaos. It was my inaugural visit to Kumartuli, a veritable factory of deities, where last-minute preparations were in full swing.

Amidst this bustling backdrop, the tireless efforts of the unsung heroes of the night stood out, navigating the narrow, winding paths toward the banks of the Ganga. Pausing momentarily at the Ghat, we witnessed the immersion of last year's goddesses—a poignant ritual of releasing the old to embrace the new. Despite the late hour, life continued unabated; the jhalmuri vendor, the barber, the ferry ticket collector, all carved out their roles, ensuring that Calcutta did not let her citizens down.

We boarded a ferry, crossing the river toward Halder Bari, located on Radhanath Kabiraj Lane in central Calcutta, a site steeped in history with puja traditions dating back over 250 years. My eagerness to experience the timeless ambiance of a 'Bonedi bari' Kali puja was heightened by the knowledge that the main ceremony would unfold solely in candlelight. The family welcomed us warmly, enveloping us in an atmosphere rich with old-world charm—a rarity in today’s fast-paced world.

One significant evolution in the practice since 1942 has been the shift from animal sacrifice to vegetables, though the echoes of tradition still resonate. I hadn’t anticipated witnessing a sacrifice, yet in Calcutta, the persistence of ancient rituals is ever-present. The cremation ground, considered Kali's abode, hosts the puja with a grandeur that is unmistakable.

As we navigated through the crowd, a suddenly overwhelming scent enveloped us, quickly revealing the grisly scene: headless goats being hurriedly moved. An energetic surge ensued as devotees clamored for fresh blood from the site of sacrifice, smearing it reverently on their foreheads, caught in a fervor that blended chanting with delirium. Such visceral experiences are an indelible part of Kali's essence.

In her primordial nakedness, Kali is free from all nuances of illusion. She screams ‘Devi’ like no other.