Twenty-one years ago, Anjan Kumar Chaudhary left the vibrant chaos of his Calcutta neighbourhood and moved to the picturesque hill town of Dehradun in search of a brighter future. All he wanted was a satellite dish to access his beloved Bengali channels, but instead, what he found was a thriving Bengali community that felt both distinct and comfortingly familiar. Beyond the prestigious Doon School, where Anjan teaches, lies Durga Bari — a temple that serves as a Sunday sanctuary for adda (chit-chat) and cultural programmes. But during Durga Puja, it transforms into something extraordinary. His partner, Rituparna Chaudhary, a teacher at Ann Mary School, shares the hustle of the season: “It’s that time again when I juggle school work with preparations at Durga Bari, waking up at dawn to make bhog (food for the deities) and create alpana (floor paintings) before heading to school.” “It’s here, at Durga Bari, that the Bengalis of Dehradun have built a home away from home,” Anjan asserts, emphasising that for them Durga Puja is more than a religious festival — it’s a link to their roots and a way to instil these cultural values in their daughter, who is growing up as a Bengali in prabas (foreign land). The Bengali migration story The introduction of the Permanent Settlement of Bengal, an agreement between the East India Company and the landlords of Bengal in 1793, significantly shifted migration patterns. While land revenue for landlords was fixed, they could raise it without restrictions, devastating the peasantry and contributing to the decline of domestic industries. This situation spurred many to seek opportunities elsewhere. In 1814, a group of Bengalis from Chittagong, now in Bangladesh, reportedly escaped from a British East India Company ship at Otago Harbour, New Zealand, furthering the Bengali presence abroad. Scholar Aditi Chatterji, in her book Landscape and the Bengali Diaspora: Skilled Prabasi Bengali Migration within and beyond India, highlights a mix of push and pull factors in migration: the lack of opportunities in South Asia contrasted sharply with better prospects in the West. As Calcutta emerged as the financial and administrative centre of the British Raj in the mid-19th century, it drew labourers from nearby provinces, particularly Bihar and Uttar Pradesh. At the same time, a wave of ‘travelling babus’ — Bengali professionals, clerks, and teachers — fanned out across north India in service of the imperial government. This period also saw the spread of English education and the press. Wealthy upper-class Bengalis established a tradition of sending their children to prestigious institutions like Oxford, Cambridge, and the London School of Economics. In 1845, four Bengali Hindus accompanied Dr Henry Hurry Goodeve, a professor of anatomy at Calcutta, to University College London. Between 1865 and 1885, Chatterji notes, around 700 individuals from Bengal travelled to England, primarily to study law, medicine, and the Indian Civil Service. The shift of the Indian capital to Delhi in 1911 marked a decline in Calcutta’s influence, which became a hotspot of political rebellion during the Partition of India as well as during the creation of Bangladesh, prompting further migration. Another key factor, as Chatterji points out, was the over 30-year rule (1977-2011) of the Communist government in West Bengal. While communal harmony and public health improved, industrial decline followed, as foreign investors turned away from the Communist regime. This created a surplus of job seekers against dwindling opportunities, leading to an exodus of qualified Bengalis to other parts of India and beyond. Prabasi Bengalis Prabasi, as journalist and author Sudeep Chakravarti describes in his book The Bengalis: A Portrait of a Community (2017), refers to “any Bengali who has migrated from Bengal irrespective of the distance of that geographical separation.” Through Durga Puja celebrations, prabasi Bengalis have bridged the gap between nostalgia and unity, fostering a shared sense of identity that connects them across the globe. Bengali literature also offers a fascinating glimpse into the lives of prabasi Bengalis. A standout example is Bengali writer Santa Devi’s early-twentieth-century biography of her father, Ramananda Chattopadhyay, a journalist and patriot. His journeys across India and a visit to his sister in Rangoon, Burma, reflect his adventurous spirit, inspiring him to found and edit the journal Prabasi (April, 1901). The Bengali diaspora Scholar Manas Ray, in his article Life of the Past: Indian Bengali Diaspora and the Politics of Nostalgia, observes that the Indian Bengali diaspora primarily comprises professionals and students, with a smaller number of skilled workers. This contrasts sharply with migration patterns from Bangladesh, where most emigrants until the late 1960s came from peasant families in the city of Sylhet. Initially, Indian Bengali migration focused on Britain; however, from the late 1960s to early 1970s, migration to the USA and Canada surged as immigration laws were revised to permit the entry of professionally trained individuals from the subcontinent and other developing countries. During this period, Chatterji notes a significant ‘brain drain’ of Bengali talent to universities, hospitals, and urban institutions abroad. Her research, conducted between May 2014 and May 2015, highlights key urban centres for the diaspora: Oxford and Aberdeen in the United Kingdom; New York and the Bay Area of California in the United States; and Indian cities such as Delhi, Mumbai, Bengaluru, Patna, Dehradun, Shimla, and Allahabad. According to her cited statistics, Delhi has approximately 208,000 Bengalis, Bengaluru is home to over 300,000, and Dehradun has more than 8,000 Bengali residents. In the US, around 60,000 Bengalis live in New York, primarily in Queens County, while 3,700 reside in the Bay Area. Chakravarti mentions that there could be about 15,000 Bengali Hindus in Canada, between 30,000 and 50,000 in the United Kingdom, and a few hundred in France and Germany. He accurately sums up the situation, stating, “Several million Bengalis are part of a great scattering on account of personal persuasions and insecurities, even victimization, of politics and economics.” Indeed, the network of Bengalis is as diverse as the reasons that lead them there. However, acclimatising is rarely a problem. “As far as the new physical or built environment is concerned, Bengalis adapt to local architecture while transforming interiors with prayer rooms. Beyond the domestic scene, they construct temporary heterotopic ‘pandals’ for housing Durga, Saraswati, and Kali Puja idols, as well as for celebrating the Bengali New Year (15 April) and Tagore’s birth anniversary (8 May),” notes Chatterji. ‘Connected by Bengali thread’ New Delhi, the national capital, is home to a large Bengali community, particularly in enclaves like Chittaranjan Park (CR Park) and Kashmere Gate. According to Chatterji, the first wave of Bengali settlers in Delhi made their way in 1864, followed by a second wave in 1911 when Delhi was made the capital. Kali Bari, established in the 1930s at Mandir Marg, features an idol reminiscent of the one at the Kalighat Kali Temple in Kolkata and began hosting one of the city’s earliest Durga Puja celebrations in 1931. The only older celebrations in the city are at Kashmere Gate, dating back to 1910, and the Timarpur Puja organised by the Timarpur and Civil Lines Puja Samiti, established in 1914. “We were seeking better opportunities, and for the past two years, I’ve been fully immersed in the Pujo celebrations. Here, it feels like we’re all connected by one big Bengali thread — so different from the sprawling festivities in Kolkata. It is a cosy, localised community, and that sense of togetherness makes our diaspora experience truly special,” says Rupanjali Mitra Basu, who moved from Kolkata to CR Park eight years ago. Co-resident Shahana Chakraborty emphasises that they don't identify as prabasi. “My geography doesn’t make me any less of a Bengali.” Chakraborty explains that the Durga Puja celebrations in CR Park, formerly the EPDP colony, began in 1970 with a small group of original settlers. In the evenings, people would gather to watch Bengali cinema or jatra. “The festival was truly a community affair, with residents enthusiastically participating in cultural programmes and rehearsing for months on their rooftops. However, many residents now yearn for that sense of community, as cultural activities increasingly rely on large organisers and corporate sponsorships,” she says. In contrast, many Bengalis in Uttar Pradesh seldom identify with Bengal. “I was born in Lucknow and attended boarding school in Nainital, but Ayodhya is my home now,” says Indroneel Banerjee, a homeopathic doctor. “My grandmother came from East Bengal, while my grandfather was from Varanasi. One of his brothers settled in Gorakhpur, and another in Ayodhya (then Faizabad), so my sense of home and family is rooted far from Bengal.” Reflecting on Pujo, Banerjee says, “We celebrate all the festivals, but Pujo is particularly personal. One question I never tire of answering is why we enjoy non-vegetarian food during Puja days, even though it’s strictly prohibited during Navratri.” Similar is the story of Dinabandhu Rakshit, a confectioner in Varanasi. “Although my village is in Bankura, West Bengal, my forefathers moved to Varanasi a century and a half ago and loved it so much that they decided to stay.” Today, he runs the family’s century-old sweet shop, Kalika Mishtan Bhandar, located in Bangali Tola, Varanasi. This area once had around 2.5 lakh to 3 lakh Bengalis, many of whom have since moved to the outskirts, like Sundarpur. “Durga Puja, though slightly different here, is celebrated with 20-25 pandals in town. Once you come to Kashi, you won’t want to leave, so much so that I gave up making sandesh to sell the town’s best peda and laddoo,” he exclaimed. Many Bengalis in the state trace their roots back to a time when their grandparents, employed by the imperial government, were transferred to towns like Allahabad before moving deeper into the interiors of Uttar Pradesh. Today, Allahabad boasts notable Bengali enclaves, including Tagore Town, Bakerganj, and Kalibari. Similar developments in the diaspora’s history took place in Dehradun where the establishment of the Oil and Natural Gas Corporation (ONGC) headquarters in 1955 attracted a significant number of Bengalis. Other institutions, such as the Survey of India and the Forest Research Institute, also drew Bengali workers. In 1956, the Dehradun Sarbojanin Durga Puja Samiti was formed, supported by ANM Ghosh of ONGC. Before this, Durga Puja had been celebrated in the Karanpur and Rajpur areas since 1922. Over the years, the community raised funds to establish the Durga Bari for religious rituals and cultural events. ‘Bideshi Prabasis’ The initial reasons that drew Bengalis to the West were similar — academic opportunities and job prospects. After World War II, Britain’s medical profession became particularly appealing due to better training and a shortage of local doctors. Dr Sharmila Gupta, a paediatric accident and emergency specialist based in the UK, shares, “I navigate between Western culture and my roots effortlessly; the people I work with didn’t create the colonial wounds — it’s their ancestors.” With palpable excitement about Pujo, she says, “Just the other day, I told a colleague that Pujo is like ‘Christmas over five days.’ There’s plenty of gossip and ranna (cooking), just like back home. Ironically, I wear more sarees here than in India — I feel a strong urge to showcase my culture. I live in the North-West, between Liverpool and Manchester, where Pujo celebrations are thriving. We started with one in Liverpool; now there’s one in Leeds, three in Manchester, and many more on the way.” While modern Bengal’s cultural fabric is richly woven with the celebration of Durga Puja, its economic and political landscape has become a complex puzzle. Job opportunities seem to be shrinking, and civic disarray looms due to a stagnant economy and shifting political forces. “It is from this Bengal that the bhadralok [term for the Bengali middle class] flees, either to the relatively prosperous parts of India or, if possible, abroad, to the affluent West, taking with him the dream of a nation that he was once so passionate about and the cultural baggage which had expressed that dream,” observes Ray. Luchi (fried flatbread) and aloo dum (potato curry) remain beloved breakfasts in the households of prabasi Bengalis, while Rabindra Sangeet fills quiet afternoons. The tales of Rabindranath Tagore, Sukumar Roy, Satyajit Ray, and Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay are shared at bedtime, and shiuli, bael, and gondhoraj (jasmine, golden apple, and lemon) trees in the neighbourhood serve as symbols of a lost home in Bengal. Yet, very few envision returning. Visits have transformed from emotional journeys to logistical necessities — renting the family house, and attending weddings or funerals. “I have memories of a place that no longer exists,” Basu reflects. “My family has left our childhood home, and my friends have moved away. Pujo was always about family, friends, religious rituals, and cultural programmes — elements that prabasi Bengalis have carried beyond Bengal. While Kolkata is central to my past, it no longer defines my present or future.” Further Reading: Landscape and the Bengali Diaspora: Skilled Prabasi Bengali Migration within and beyond India by Aditi Chatterji The Bengalis: A Portrait of a Community by Sudeep Chakravarti Life of the Past: Indian Bengali diaspora and the politics of nostalgia by Manas Ray Being Bengali: At home and in the world edited by Mridula Nath Chakraborty In the Name of the Goddess by Tapati Guha-Thakurta
