From Ujanbazar to Naglok: Finding a little piece of Bengal in Guwahati

Today is Saptami, the day when the festivities gather pace and pandal-hopping becomes an essential part of the celebration. As I set out to explore Guwahati's Durga Puja pandals in between my assignment, I found myself wondering how the city celebrates the homecoming of Uma (Durga's pet name), the daughter who leaves her husband Shiva's abode at Kailash to visit her parents on Earth.

For a Bengali, being away from home during these days is an unusual feeling. Durga Puja is not merely a religious festival; it is a time for family reunions, long conversations, and shared meals, celebrating the joy of being together.

But this Saptami, I discovered that the spirit of the festival has spread beyond Bengal. In Guwahati, the traditions may have their own local flavour, and the pandals may tell very different stories, but the enthusiasm of the people offered a reassuring familiarity, as a journalist exploring an unfamiliar festive landscape, but also a Bengali searching for a little piece of home, hundreds of kilometres away.

My first stop was Ujanbazar Barowari Durga Puja, regarded as Guwahati's oldest Durga Puja celebration. Here, the festival offers a connection to a past that predates the elaborate, theme-driven pandals that increasingly define contemporary celebrations.

The puja's history is associated with the Ahom royal family. According to local accounts, the worship began as a private celebration at the Rajbari, or royal residence, in Ujanbazar in 1821. Ghanakanta Singha, a member of the Ahom royal family, is credited with initiating it. Over time, as the royal family's resources declined, maintaining the celebration became difficult. The puja subsequently evolved into a public, community-organised celebration in 1889.

This year marks its 137th year as a Barowari puja, a tradition that has continued across generations.

Standing there, I was struck by the journey of a celebration that had moved from the confines of a royal household to become part of the city's collective life. While many modern pandals seek attention through spectacular designs, Ujanbazar's appeal lies in its history and continuity. It is a reminder that Durga Puja's enduring strength comes not just from artistic innovation but also from the communities that keep its traditions alive.

From this historic setting, I moved towards a very different experience at Bishnupur Sarbojonin Durga Puja, where the organisers had chosen Naglok, the mythical realm of serpents, as their theme.

The attraction was not simply the pandal's design. Visitors could also experience it through a boat ride in the evening. The idea was to create an immersive experience in which the setting and the approach to the pandal became as important as the destination.

According to the arrangements shared by the organisers, eight boats were available for the experience. Visitors could book via BookMyShow, with tickets priced at ₹199 for a group of eight. The online booking facility added a modern convenience to a traditional festival.

The concept was intriguing. In Bengal, the familiar routine involves moving through crowded streets, waiting in queues and stepping into temporary structures transformed by the imagination of artists. At Bishnupur, the boat ride offered a different way of experiencing the festival, blending the mythology of Naglok with an element of adventure.

It also reflected the growing ambition of puja organisers to create experiences for visitors to remember.

My next destination, the Bamunimaidan Railway BG Colony Durga Puja, offered another imaginative departure. They have made a Disneyland-inspired fairytale castle.

The theme promised a fantasy-like setting, with the castle serving as the centrepiece of the pandal. The idea was to transport visitors into a world of make-believe, appealing particularly to families and children. Such themes demonstrate how Durga Puja has become a space for artistic experimentation, where temporary structures can transform familiar neighbourhoods into entirely different worlds.

What caught my attention here was that the pandal also carried a tribute to Zubeen Garg, the much-loved Assamese singer whose memory continues to resonate deeply across the state. His photograph and the messages honouring him reflected the affection people still feel for an artist whose music became part of their lives. At several pandals, the sentiment was that Zubeen would always be remembered.

It was reassuring to discover that Guwahati's residents were equally enthusiastic about making the most of the festival.

For Bengalis, Durga Puja is inseparable from the idea of homecoming. The belief that Uma returns to her parental home gives the festival its emotional foundation. Her arrival brings families together, and the five days become an opportunity to reconnect with people who may otherwise remain caught up in their daily routines.

That sentiment is not confined to Bengal. In Guwahati, I found it expressed through the devotion of the visitors, the creativity of the organisers and the warmth with which people welcomed the festival.

Perhaps that is the real beauty of Durga Puja. It can travel with people, taking root wherever communities gather to welcome the goddess. And sometimes, all it takes to feel at home is the familiar beat of a dhaak, the sight of a beautifully decorated pandal and the warmth of people celebrating together.

On Saptami in Guwahati, I found a little piece of Bengal in Assam.