Where Tradition Meets Heart: Memories of Dussehra

Echoes of Sindri : A Journey Through Festive Memories and Family Traditions

A Special Morning in Sindri

As dawn broke on Vijaya Dashami, the air in Sindri buzzed with excitement and anticipation. It marked not just the culmination of Durga Puja but also a fresh start, symbolizing the renewal of hope and blessings. Following Raksha Bandhan, when many auspicious activities were paused, this day offered the perfect opportunity for families to begin new ventures and celebrate. The morning ritual of a refreshing bath signified purification, preparing us for the festivities ahead. The fragrance of incense and flowers filled the atmosphere, echoing the devotion that bound the community together.

On this special day, Ma Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge and wisdom, was venerated in every household. It was customary for families to offer prayers, seeking her blessings as children embarked on their academic journeys. This tradition of beginning new studies on Vijaya Dashami highlighted the importance of knowledge and learning, paying homage to the divine essence that guided our pursuits.

Divine Blessings and Ritual Reverence

Dussehra in Sindri was a time when the spirit of devotion intertwined with the celebration of Lord Ram’s victory, creating a vibrant atmosphere alive with the blessings of Maa Saraswati, Lord Ram, Sita Ji, Hanuman Ji, and Maa Durga. The air pulsed with joy and a profound sense of spiritual renewal, reinforcing the eternal triumph of good over evil.

One of the most cherished rituals during this time was Sastra Puja, a sacred ceremony honoring weapons and tools, symbolizing our commitment to wield our strength wisely. This Puja transcended mere reverence for physical implements; it embodied a deeper recognition of our responsibilities and duties. Engaging in this ritual with sincerity connected us to a shared sense of purpose and integrity that resonated throughout the community.

As the day transitioned into morning, our family embraced these rituals with devotion. My mother would lead us in the Ramayana Path, culminating in the recitation of the final Khand, enriched with explanations of its significance. During this time, she would narrate the epic journey of Ramchandra Ji, immersing us in tales of heroism and honor. As children, we cheered with excitement as the scenes unfolded, feeling a deep sense of unity with our neighbors in this celebration of righteousness and victory.

The arrival of Panditji filled the air with excitement. I eagerly awaited his presence as a child. Dressed in his traditional dhoti and kurta, he radiated a calm wisdom that felt timeless. His entrance marked the beginning of a sacred ritual, connecting us directly to our faith and heritage.

Panditji would carry a small basket of sacred items—the jau grass, tika, and raksha sutra, all prepared for blessings. The jau grass, nurtured around the kalash of Ma Durga, symbolized protection and grace. He would gently place the jau grass around my ears, its cool texture brushing my skin, and then apply a tika on my forehead, its red hue standing out as a mark of divine blessing.

As he tied the sacred raksha sutra around my wrist, he recited mantras with a soothing rhythm. One day, he paused and said, “This jau grass I am placing on your ear is to help you discern right from wrong and act with wisdom.” Although I didn’t fully grasp the depth of his words at that moment, they lingered in my mind. Years later, in Mumbai in 1994, I encountered the profound words of Dale Carnegie: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.” Instantly, I was transported back to those childhood moments, realizing that Panditji had planted a seed of wisdom within me, echoing sentiments I would later encounter.

After these sacred rituals, we would gather for breakfast, where the aroma of traditional dishes filled the air. Reflecting on those moments, I feel immense gratitude for the lessons embedded in these rituals. They shaped my understanding of life, imparting values that guided me through its complexities. Dussehra in Sindri was not just a series of traditions; it was a celebration of community, unity, and the divine blessings that connected us all. The raksha sutra tied around my wrist, the tika on my forehead, and the jau grass placed on my ear were more than physical symbols—they felt like the blessings of Ma Durga herself, enveloping me in protection and guidance.

Culinary Traditions and Childhood Memories

In the days leading up to Dussehra, our home embraced a spirit of simplicity and discipline. For seven to eight days, my family, like many others in Sindri, adhered to sattvic meals, avoiding non-vegetarian food, onions, and garlic. This period of fasting and purification aligned us with the festival's spiritual essence. As the fast neared its end, the bustling marketplace transformed into a lively hub of activity, with long queues forming at butcher shops as families prepared for the grand feasts to come.

Mornings during this period held a special charm. We would start our day with dahi chura, a simple yet cherished dish of yogurt and flattened rice flakes, believed to bring auspicious beginnings. I remember the golden sunlight filtering through the kitchen window as my family gathered, sharing this humble meal. The cool, tangy taste of yogurt combined with the texture of the rice flakes fostered a sense of warmth and unity. It was more than just food; it was a ritual that reinforced our sense of belonging and continuity, passing down traditions from one generation to the next.

These mornings encapsulated the essence of Dussehra for me. They symbolized not merely food or rituals but the unity and love binding our community, reminding me of the simple joys and the abundance that awaited as the festival unfolded. Looking back, those days symbolize the beauty of our traditions, the strength of our connections, and the joy of shared celebrations.

Imagining the Ramlila Procession

As the sun climbed higher, casting a warm glow over our neighborhood, excitement filled the air in anticipation of the day’s highlight: the Ramlila procession. The streets buzzed with energy as children and adults alike speculated about the elaborate effigy of Ravana, imagining its grandeur while tales of Ramchandraji, Lakshmanji, and Hanumanji filled our hearts with joy and reverence.

The procession was a visual delight. Elephants adorned in vibrant, colorful blankets gracefully paraded down the streets, while camels strutted with majesty. Beautifully decorated floats depicted scenes from the epic Ramayana, each more intricate than the last, telling stories of love, valor, and triumph. The streets came alive with music, laughter, and the clamor of people eager to witness the heroes of our tales.

Once the procession passed our home, we eagerly set off for Saharpura to visit one of our sweetest relatives—my parents Fua Ji and Fufa Ji. Their home was always a haven of warmth and love. The aroma of delicious food greeted us as Fua Ji and Chicki Didi welcomed us with open arms, their smiles creating an atmosphere of comfort and joy.

The feast was a delight, with platters of mouthwatering dishes and an array of sweets. Sharing stories and laughter made the day even more special. After the meal, we’d head to the garden to check if the procession had reached the Mandir ground. We spent time playing games like chess, Ludo, and cricket. Anu and Bomb Bhiya joined us, their smiles encouraging our playful competition, creating simple but unforgettable moments.

As the procession neared the Mandir ground, we would make our way to the festivities, excitement bubbling as we joined the crowd. Each step felt like entering a living story, where our cultural heritage came alive in vibrant colors and joyous celebrations. The anticipation of witnessing Ramji's story unfold was a thread that tied us to our roots and each other.

Going Saharpura Mandir Ground

The closer the procession came, the more the excitement surged within us. We dashed outside, blending into the sea of spectators lining the streets, each face reflecting the joy of the occasion. Children laughed and played while elders exchanged warm greetings and reminisced about past celebrations.

Our journey took us to the Saharpura Mandir Ground, where the festivities reached their peak. The streets pulsed with music, and the rhythmic beats of the dhol echoed through the air, inviting everyone to move with its energy. The decorations, bursting with color, added to the festive atmosphere, strengthening the community spirit.

For the little ones who couldn’t see over the crowd, fathers lifted them onto their shoulders, granting them a bird’s-eye view of the spectacular procession. The joy in their eyes was contagious as they eagerly watched for the magnificent Ram chariot and the comic antics of Hanumanji.

As the grand floats approached the effigy of Ravana, the crowd's energy intensified. Chants of “Jai Sri Ram!” rang out, echoing in waves as the community came together in devotion and excitement. Arriving at the Ramlila ground, we were greeted by a sea of faces, all eager to witness the unfolding drama. The air buzzed with anticipation, and although the crowd was dense, the shared enthusiasm unified us all.

The aroma of food mixed with the scent of incense and flowers, creating an intoxicating blend that deepened our sense of connection to the festival. It wasn’t just a celebration; it was a powerful moment that brought us together, binding us through faith, community, and joy.

The Grand Finale: Ravana’s Defeat

As evening approached, excitement filled the air. The grand effigy of Ravana, flanked by smaller effigies of Meghnath and Kumbhkaran, loomed before us like giant pi?atas waiting to be set ablaze. The anticipation was almost tangible; my heart raced as I took in the sea of eager faces, all fixated on the drama about to unfold.

Ramchandraji made his majestic entrance on a grand float, accompanied by Lakshmanji and the ever-amusing Hanumanji. Hanumanji’s playful antics, a crowd favorite, sent waves of laughter through the crowd. His energetic leaps and mischievous stunts momentarily distracted us from the suspense, perfectly capturing the spirit of strength and mischief.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, the much-awaited moment arrived. Ramchandraji raised his bow, and the crowd collectively held its breath—except for one uncle in the front row, who chose that moment to debate whether the arrows were more powerful than Ravana’s ego.

The first arrow was released but fell short of its target. A gasp rippled through the crowd, followed by a heavy silence. The tension was palpable; even the children perched on their fathers’ shoulders sensed the unease.

“C'mon, Ramji! We believe in you!” an enthusiastic young boy shouted, rallying the crowd into chants of “Second chance! Second chance!” like fans at a cricket match. Ramchandraji took aim again with renewed focus, but the second arrow missed its mark once more, prompting laughter mixed with nervous energy. “Maybe he should have taken archery lessons from Hanumanji!” someone quipped, and the crowd erupted in laughter.

Finally, on his third attempt, Ramchandraji’s arrow struck true—thanks to a secret shared by Vibhishana, Ravana’s own brother. Vibhishana revealed that Ravana could not be killed by ordinary means, as he was a great devotee of Lord Shiva and had received blessings that made him invincible. His life force, Vibhishana confided, was not in his heart but in his navel—a secret known only to a few. Armed with this knowledge, Ramchandraji aimed at Ravana’s navel, and the effigy burst into flames.

As the flames devoured the effigies of Meghnath, Kumbhkaran, and finally Ravana, the crowd erupted in cheers, shouting “Jai Shri Ram! Aaj Burai Par Achhai Ki Vijay Ho Rahi Hai!” The flames danced high, illuminating faces filled with joy and unity. The song "Ram Ji Ki Sena Chali" echoed from the stage, heightening the festive atmosphere. The warmth of the fire enveloped us, marking a shared moment of triumph over evil.

Reflecting on this, I am reminded of how crucial Vibhishana’s truth was—a truth that ultimately led to the defeat of Ravana. In today’s world, it is a lesson in the importance of speaking the truth, even when it involves one’s own, to set things right. It teaches us that even the mightiest can be brought down if one knows their vulnerabilities and approaches them wisely. Ravana’s downfall was not just due to his power but also his internal flaws—his arrogance and enmity with his own kin. It serves as a reminder that building bridges within one’s family and community, rather than creating divisions, is the path to true strength and success.

These memories of Dussehra celebrations are etched in my heart, not just as a spectacle of lights and fire, but as a lesson in unity, the courage to confront truth, and the understanding that even the greatest challenges can be overcome when approached with wisdom and a clear purpose.

Post-Celebration Festivities

As the final embers of Ravana crackled into the night, the atmosphere transformed from tense anticipation to festive revelry. The giant effigy, reduced to ashes, marked the beginning of our cherished tradition—visiting friends and family across Sharpura, Roraband, and Manohartand. Each home welcomed us with open arms and an abundance of delicious treats.

The sweet aroma of gulab jamun and crispy pidukia (gujiya) filled the air, tempting us to indulge in the festive delights. Laughter echoed through the rooms as we animatedly discussed the day’s highlights—the magnificent floats and Hanumanji's antics that kept us in stitches.

“Here, try this!” a friend would insist, offering plates piled high with sweets, their eyes sparkling with joy. Our parents' friends joined the festivities at our home too, filling the space with warmth and affection. Their voices blended into a lively symphony of celebration, weaving a sense of community that felt irreplaceable.

As the evening stretched on, streetlights flickered on, mirroring the warmth in our hearts. Each gathering was a celebration of togetherness, where laughter and love intertwined, painting a vivid picture of the true essence of life. My childhood in Sindri, filled with these colorful memories, is a treasure I cherish dearly—a time when festivals were not just events but moments that wove us closer as a community.

These celebrations taught me that the joy of festivals isn’t merely in their grandeur but in the connections and bonds they strengthen. The spirit of togetherness and the warmth shared among friends and family are the true lights that illuminate our lives, reminding us that the essence of every festival is the love we share and the memories we create together.

The Tradition of Starting Auspicious and New Ventures

As the evening deepened and the last embers of Ravana’s effigy glowed faintly, the air was filled with a sense of renewal and promise. For our community, Dussehra was more than a celebration; it marked the beginning of an auspicious season, perfect for embarking on new ventures and milestones.

Families with children of marriageable age would start discussing proposals that had been paused during Ganesh Chaturthi or Raksha Bandhan, taking this as a propitious time to move forward. It was also a popular time for buying new vehicles—each car symbolizing progress, with proud owners showcasing their latest acquisitions on the streets of Sindri, adding to the festive excitement.

Entrepreneurs, too, seized this moment to launch new business ventures, encouraged by the festive atmosphere and the belief that this season was especially favorable for success.

As families gathered to share sweets and dreams, there was a contagious sense of optimism and possibility. Dussehra wasn’t just a festival; it was a turning point, inspiring us all to embrace the opportunities ahead with renewed hope and enthusiasm.

Vijaya Bhoj: A Culinary Delight

The culmination of our Dussehra celebrations was the Vijaya Bhoj, a special feast hosted by our Bengali neighbors, one of my most cherished childhood memories in Sindri. As the festivities reached their peak, our Bengali friends would begin wishing "Happy Vijaya" and warmly invite us for the Vijaya Bhoj on Vijaya Dashami. This feast was a highlight of the season—a meal that brought immense joy and created unforgettable bonds.

The aroma of luchi, kheer, and chole filled the air, embracing us with its warmth. I can still savor those flavors—the crispy, fluffy luchis paired perfectly with the spicy chole, and the sweet, creamy kheer that lingered on my tongue. The community aunties outdid themselves, transforming these gatherings into royal banquets where we feasted like kings, surrounded by laughter, the clinking of plates, and the warmth of togetherness.

I vividly recall Raja’s parents calling us from their balcony, and we eagerly descended from our floor, excitedly discussing the dishes awaiting us. The enthusiasm was infectious as we filled our plates and hearts with love and laughter. The days following Dussehra were a whirlwind of visits for bhoj, which continued until the full moon. These meals were more than just food; they strengthened our bonds, creating memories that linger to this day.

As the full moon approached, Lakhi Puja marked another chapter of festivities, rich with sweets and the spirit of community. The gud nariyal laddu made with khajoor and jaggery became a seasonal favorite. Whenever I think of Lakhi Puja, I remember the kind Bengali aunty who lived next door. She organized the puja every year, ensuring we were always invited and treated like family. Even after she moved away, she would call to remind us of the celebrations, maintaining a connection that felt divine. Such relationships are rare today, in a fast-paced world where genuine connections seem harder to come by.

Each celebration, gathering, and shared meal reminded me of the bonds we formed through these vibrant festivals. These memories transport me back to a simpler time when joy was found in the company of loved ones and the flavors of home-cooked meals.

Reflections on Dussehra

Dussehra in Sindri was more than a festival; it was a vivid tapestry of community spirit, laughter, and the timeless battle between good and evil. As I look back, I can almost hear the distant echoes of drums from the Ramlila, the shouts of “Jai Sri Ram!” resonating in the air, and the enticing scents of food wafting from neighbors’ kitchens. Those memories are etched in my heart, a testament to the rich culture that shaped my childhood.

In those early years, Dussehra held deep significance. The festival marked Ramchandraji's victory over Ravana, and the celebration wasn't just observed; it was lived through our community events. I recall the thrill of watching the grand effigy of Ravana go up in flames, lighting up the night sky as children and adults watched, their eyes wide with awe. These moments brought the spirit of Dussehra alive, binding us together in a shared experience of joy, learning, and tradition.

Vijaya Dashami was a particularly significant day, marked by the practice of Shastra Puja, the worship of weapons and tools. Initially, it felt like an exciting spectacle as elders performed the rituals with bows and arrows. But as I grew older, I came to appreciate the deeper meaning behind these traditions. Shastra Puja symbolized the responsibility that comes with strength—the importance of using one’s abilities for good and righteous purposes.

As the years passed, the true essence of our traditions became clearer. The victory of Ramchandraji was not just about a physical triumph; it emphasized moral integrity, unity, and the strength of community. The lessons of Dussehra went beyond the celebrations, resonating with values that guided us in our daily lives. The stories and teachings during the festival encouraged compassion, resilience, and the strength to overcome challenges gracefully.

In those days, the sense of belonging was palpable. The shared meals, the laughter, and the unbreakable bonds we formed through these experiences left an indelible mark on my heart.

A Legacy of Love and Unity

As I continue to navigate life, the memories of Dussehra in Sindri remain a guiding thread, reminding me of the warmth of family gatherings and the joy of being part of a close-knit community. The laughter shared over meals, the stories exchanged, and the sense of unity reinforced the values of love, compassion, and resilience.

Dussehra was not just about the victory of Ramchandraji over Ravana but also a time to honor new beginnings—whether it was a marriage proposal, the purchase of a new vehicle, or the start of a new venture. Shastra Puja, in particular, reinforced the idea that strength isn’t about might alone but about purpose, responsibility, and integrity.

As I reflect on those joyous moments, I am deeply grateful for the family, friends, and community who shaped my Dussehra memories. The love, laughter, and lessons learned during these festive times are invaluable, forming the foundation of who I am today. These memories continue to inspire me, reminding me of the rich legacy of love and unity that these celebrations represent.

This Vijaya Dashami, I share these reflections not only as a personal recollection but as a call to keep the spirit of these celebrations alive for generations to come. Let us remember that Dussehra’s essence extends beyond festivities; it is a reminder to embrace new beginnings, honor our commitments, and cherish the strength of unity.

May the memories we hold dear guide us through life’s complexities, and as we gather with loved ones, let us celebrate our victories, our bonds, and the love that unites us all.

From the Diaries of Praveen Sharma

Written and Developed by Praveen Sharma & Team

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