You’ve probably seen reels of a sparkling pandal in Kalyani, modelled after the Grand Lisboa hotel in Macau. I saw those reels too. So many of them that I decided to heavily bribe an auto driver to take me to Bidhannagar station post-curfew (on Puja days, the three-wheelers are not allowed around Ultadanga after 2pm). I bought a ticket and ran to the platform, only to see the train pulling out. The chart showed that the next train to Kalyani wouldn’t arrive for an hour. Sigh! I consoled myself it would be worth it.
The exquisite idol of the goddess and her children inside the pandal
After over an hour on the train, most of which was spent contouring my body into unique polygons, I finally made my way to the toto stand. Like everyone around me, I said: “ITI More Durga Puja” (Luminous Club). The toto joined what looked like every vehicle in Kalyani. My anticipation was at an all-time high.
The traffic was such that a 3-km stretch took almost 45 minutes to cover, followed by a kilometre’s walk. No one was complaining though. There was consensus that we were collectively heading towards something special. People seemed to be enjoying the journey much more than the destination, singing songs, taking selfies, scouring through the stalls.
The path was forked in such a way that you take your first real glance of the pandal when you’re directly in front of it. And before you know it, the glance turns into a stare. I’m still not sure what caught me off-guard: the lights, the size, or the general aura. But I just couldn’t take my eyes off the 160-feet stunning structure.
After what felt like eternity, I entered. With hundreds of others. As soon as we saw the first glimpse of Durga, the crowd erupted into cheers, with chants of “Bolo Durga Mai Ki… Jai!” It reminded me of how theatres turned into stadiums when Captain America lifted Mjolnir.
For context, I have been pandal-hopping since the age of four, exploring thousands of pandals in every corner of Kolkata. But I have never felt a more unified sense of euphoria in a pandal, than at ITI More Luminous Club.
The vibrant ‘mela’ behind the pandal
The pandal itself was so gaudy that it could put Bappi (Lahiri) da’s wardrobe and gold to shame. None of it mattered though. Maa deserves a larger-than-life, over-the-top home during the Pujas, and a frenzied crowd reflected in thousands of shiny mirrors can sometimes blind your inner art critic.
This might be an unpopular opinion but my favourite part of the pandal came after it. The mela outside is among the largest I have ever seen, and definitely the busiest. In Kolkata, people can often be a bit jaded towards melas (myself included). I call it the I-Am-Overstimulated-By-Malls-And-Amusement-Parks-Syndrome. But the mela in Kalyani had a certain innocence to it, with people sampling different types of momos, overpaying for nitrogen smoke biscuits (that taste terrible) and yelling themselves hoarse on rides. I know it’s a cliche but I couldn’t help thinking, ‘This isn’t a religious festival, but a human one.’
On the train back, I looked at my watch. I’d spent 5 hours just to see one pandal. Highlights of the trip flashed before my eyes. It was definitely about the journey, not the destination.
The pandal that leaves you transfixed
When reached out for comment, Arijit Mazumder, the cultural secretary of the Central Park Durga Puja, Kalyani, said: “Pujo in Kalyani means homecoming from far and abroad for those who grew up here in their early days. Kalyani has always been an attraction for those who are culturally inclined. Lately, this festival has revamped itself into new heights with the pomp and glamour that people could ever have imagined in a suburban town like this. The overwhelming crowd due to some of the highlighted puja mandaps have attracted millions to take a glimpse of the extravagant decor and the vibrancy spread across hundreds of puja pandals in the town. We, being the residents, feel proud to have such an unique recognition of our township in recent years.”
