Guwahati’s Season Of Shakti: A Durga Puja Homecoming

Some of my core memories of Durga Puja while growing up in Guwahati in the 90s are of the preparations leading up to it. Pandals would spring up in every nook and corner of what was then a sleepy, lush green and utterly charming little city. At home, we’d make lists of every relative, friend and domestic worker to gift new clothes to, before Father would pack us all into our little car for a day of Puja shopping at Fancy Bazaar, the city’s biggest and busiest market. Saris, shirts, trousers, frocks, jeans and tops would be carefully picked out, gift-wrapped and loaded into the car, ready to be delivered over the next few days. Shopping done, we’d stuff ourselves with hot cutlets, rolls and sizzlers from iconic shops and then head to the Brahmaputra ghat to watch the sun set in a burst of colours over one of the largest rivers in the world, as ferries glided between North and South Guwahati. Finally Shashti, the first day of Puja, would arrive, when the idols were brought into the pandals with much fanfare, marking the beginning of five days of unabashed celebration. Mornings meant pushpanjali at the neighbourhood pandal, afternoons were reserved for bhog followed by the post-lunch siesta that is a mandatory practice all over Assam, Puja or not. Evenings meant dressing up in our new festive clothes and pandal-hopping across the city. The bigger pandals competed every year to create increasingly elaborate themes and decorations, often incorporating local and eco-friendly materials such as bamboo, cane and jute, drawing crowds from across Guwahati and neighbouring towns. My sister’s and my favourite was the one with mechanised idols that moved to enact scenes of good triumphing over evil.

In between the pandal-hopping, there were dhunuchi dances, singing competitions, poetry recitations and enough neighbourhood festivities to keep us occupied from morning to night. And then there was the food. Rows of makeshift stalls outside every pandal would dish out everything from kathi rolls, puchkas, chaats, chops and cutlets to noodles, momo and biryani, while restaurants across the city would roll out special Puja menus and offers. There was something about those five days that made every outing feel like an occasion, and before we knew it, Dashami would arrive, bringing with it a sense of sadness. Dressed in white and red, the women and girls would return to the neighbourhood pandal to bid farewell to the goddess and her children with sindoor khela. Later, we’d line up to watch the procession by the Brahmaputra, waving teary-eyed goodbyes as truck after truck carried the idols towards the river for visarjan.

Guwahati has changed enormously since those days: more high-rises and flyovers, fewer trees and pretty Assam-type houses, and considerably more chaos. The quaint town of my childhood is long gone. But the fervour with which Guwahati celebrates, especially Bihu and Durga Puja, remains wonderfully unchanged. Contrary to popular perception in much of India, Durga Puja is not limited to West Bengal or Bengalis alone. It is celebrated with great gusto across Eastern India, with Assam hosting some of the biggest celebrations after West Bengal, and Guwahati some of the grandest pandals outside Kolkata. Which is why, even today, Durga Puja remains my favourite time of year to return to my hometown. And if you too happen to find yourself in Guwahati during Puja, there is far more to experience beyond pandal-hopping.

Discovering Guwahati Anew

Kamakhya, the city’s most iconic landmark, sits atop Nilachal Hill and is one of India’s most important Shakti shrines. The Brahmaputra, meanwhile, is as much a part of Guwahati’s identity as the goddess herself, and a sunset cruise offers a particularly beautiful perspective of the river, with Umananda, the world’s smallest river island and home to a historic Shiva temple, making for a memorable stop along the way. For a glimpse into Assam’s history and culture, the Mahabahu Brahmaputra River Heritage Centre, housed in a restored 170-year-old heritage bungalow overlooking the river, offers an evocative look at the city’s relationship with its great waterway. Srimanta Sankardev Kalakshetra, meanwhile, brings together Assam’s art, music, literature and traditions within a sprawling cultural complex.

The city still has a surprising amount of green and blue spaces left, from tranquil Dighalipukhuri lake in the heart of town to its many parks and smaller waterbodies, offering pockets of calm amid the urban bustle. On the southwestern edge, Deepor Beel offers a more expansive escape: Assam’s only Ramsar site, the vast wetland is an important habitat for resident and migratory birds, with the winter months particularly rewarding for birdwatchers.

Of Silk, Tea And Good Food

Shopping, too, is part of the Guwahati experience. GS Road is the city’s main modern retail hub, while Ambari, near the Assam State Museum, has several well-curated options for Assam’s traditional crafts and textiles. Pragjyotika Assam Emporium and Purbashree stock Assamese mekhela sadors, Muga, Eri and Paat silks, bamboo and cane work, bell-metal artefacts and handicrafts from across the Northeast. For a more contemporary take, Lahé Looms and The Copo offer regional handlooms, homeware and crafts, while Assam tea, naturally, makes for an easy souvenir to take home.

Guwahati’s food scene has evolved considerably too, although Assamese cuisine remains at its heart. Paradise, which has been serving traditional Assamese food since 1984, is a good introduction, while Michinga, Mising Kitchen and Gam’s Delicacy offer their own takes on the region’s diverse cuisines. For something more intimate, home-style supper clubs and chef-led experiences have also found a following. The city also boasts an eclectic mix of riverside cafés, breweries, tea lounges, pubs and restaurants offering everything from Japanese, Continental and American to Pan Asian, Italian and Mexican.

It’s a very different Guwahati from the one I knew as a child, but perhaps that is what makes returning during Puja so special: the city may keep changing, but for five days every year, it still feels a lot like home.