I have always viewed rituals with a tinge of scepticism. The whole process– from commissioning an idol to its immersion– seems fun, but also opens the door to a lot of unanswered questions.
In my workplace, Saraswati Puja is celebrated with lots of religious endeavour. Devi Saraswati appears in a milk-white saree, and she adorns white jewellery. The guests are offered bhog on the day of the puja. The following day entails Maa's bisorjon, or her final journey towards home. On the morning of her bisorjon, the devotees follow certain rituals to receive Maa's blessings. For instance, one of those includes an activity of writing ‘O: Saraswati Namah’ on belpata. The leaf is then bestowed underneath the goddess’s feet and then one is supposed to look oneself at the mirror placed diametrically opposite to the Mangal Ghat. While participating in all these rituals, a part of me was constantly afraid of making mistakes. Apparently, I didn't make any mistake, but our subconscious mind sometimes comes up with fears that question our entire activity. Once we are done with it, dadhikarma is prepared as an offering to the devotees. Dadhikarma is made with lots of milk, yoghurt, khoi, batasa, bananas and khir. It tastes good and functions as a sort of probiotic to the body.
The rituals for the bisorjon ceremony are equally interesting. One by one comes and offers sweets and water to the goddess and to her bahon, the Swan. This is a kind of farewell to the goddess, with the hope that she would come back again next year with double vigour and warmth. Arrangements are then made for Maa's final journey towards her abode.
All of us accompanied the goddess to the nearest ghat for the immersion. On the right hand side of the river bank, I saw a couple of young kids busy collecting litter from the piled up garbage. They were primarily collecting plastics and probably other important stuff. The goddess was immersed into the water with full vigour, and chants of ‘Asche Bochor Abar Hobe’. As the idol went away afar along with the water current, I was wondering if those children too, ever got a chance to participate in a puja ritual. They were doing their job, and there was no harm in it. Yet a part of me was wondering whether it was right for us in the first place to employ young children into picking up garbage while a section of society participated in festivities. A part of humanity lives on the fringes while we worship the goddess of learning. Will those children be ever able to read and write or even go to a public school in their lifetime? Will the goddess of learning be able to dispel centuries of darkness that these people are stepped into? I don't know. Just like my scepticism with rituals, I foreclose my essay with a pinch of salt.