Durga Puja, West Bengal

Since my arrival in India in late August, I have watched the progressive construction of the elaborate bamboo fortresses called pandals in preparation of Durga Puja. Durga Puja is an annual Hindu festival that has been celebrated in West Bengal since the late 1500s. The festival remembers the conquest of good over evil as embodied through the goddess Durga's victory over the buffalo-headed demon Mahishasura.

Thousands of idols are crafted from natural materials to depict this menacing ten-armed goddess - weapons in hand - powerfully riding on the back of a lion. The icons of Durga are placed inside the lighted pandals to be visited by groups of families and friends wearing all their new clothes. On the final day of the celebration, the icons of the goddess are ceremonially escorted to the banks of nearby rivers and immersed into the moving water.

The Christian community largely watches this festival from the sidelines as even the harmless pandal-hopping can be accompanied by expectations to pay your respects to icons of Durga. My host parents, even though they are devote Christians, understood my curiosity and arranged for me to pandal-hop and to be present for the immersion of the Durgas.

And I am grateful to them for that.

A young man from our church, Rahul, agreed to escort me through the crowded and colorful streets of Siliguri in order for me to catch a glimpse of something that I had only ever seen in National Geographic. Rahul offered to wear my backpack and carry both of our helmets as I forced our way through the dancing bodies, the beating drums, and queued trucks to stand right beneath the towering Durgas awaiting immersion. One by one, as if by some unspoken agreement, the crowds hoisted up the icons of Durga, walked them into shallow water, and then violently tossed them into the flow of the Mahananda river.

We stood and watched the crowds joyfully destroy these icons that had once been carefully crafted, ordained with flowers, and shrouded by beautiful pandals. After a long time, Rahul and I decided to catch our breath and share puchka on the bridge overlooking the celebrations.

As I climbed on the back of Rahul's motorcycle and we began to drive towards home I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of privilege in having seen that in my lifetime.