An ode to Ma Durga’s homecoming
Many of you may know that I was born a Bengali. I mention it here to emphasize the significance of one event in the lives of Bengalis – those Hindus who are born in West Bengal. Combine the religious significance of Christmas, add to it the festivity of Carnival, multiply it by ten days, and layer it on the foundation of the complexity of Shakti-ism philosophy. That is our heart-tugging Durga Puja.
This year I am returning to my home town, Kolkata to re-immerse in the celebration – first time since 1994 – and bringing along a few more than a dozen Americans!
In this article I have tried to elaborate and unveil the complex juxtaposition of this celebration as two different stories have become fused in Bengali Durga Puja, adding my own interpretation of Tantrika and Shaktism throughout. In an effort to keep this article short, I have simplified, generalized, and selected interpretations.
Two stories:
The theological cosmic myth of Durga as Mahishasuramardini, the destroyer of Mahishasura; and
The much more intimate Bengali folk-cultural story of Uma/Durga, the married daughter, coming home to her parents for a few days with her children.
They are not originally the same story. Their fusion is what makes Bengali Durga Puja so unusually powerful.
The original myth: Mahishasuramardini
The principal textual source is the Devī Māhātmya, probably composed around the 5th–6th century CE and incorporated into the Mārkaṇḍeya Purāṇa. It is the foundational Sanskrit text for the theology of Durga as the supreme Goddess.
The story begins with Mahishasura, literally, Mahish (buffalo) Asura (power seeking being).
He is not simply a monster representing evil. He is extraordinarily powerful, intelligent and protean. He can change forms, moving between buffalo, human and other forms. He defeats the gods and takes control of heaven.
The gods cannot defeat him.
The gods cannot defeat him because Mahishasura has obtained a boon, through his own effort, by his own right, making him effectively invincible to male gods and beings. He has not considered a woman a meaningful threat.
That omission becomes his undoing.
The defeated male gods come together, combine their power and something extraordinary happens. Their individual tejas—radiance, power, spiritual potency—emerges from them and converges into a single immense field of energy.
That energy takes feminine form:
Devi.
She is Durga.
This is important in Shaktism. Durga isn't merely another god whom the male gods call upon for assistance. Rather, their powers are revealed to be expressions of a greater Shakti, the feminine cosmic power from which their own capacities arise.
Then the gods give her their weapons – a symbolism of those representative aspects of masculinity (effort) that enables the rise of femininity (realizations).
Shiva gives the trident - the channels of kundalini power ida-susumna-pingala
Vishnu gives the discus - the effort of cosmic balance
Indra gives the thunderbolt - representation of Amrita, or Soma
Vayu gives the bow and arrows - the tools of single pointed focus - Dharana
Varuna gives the conch - the primeval sound-vibration or Nada of OM
Agni gives a spear, and other gods contribute further weapons and attributes.
She becomes the power of the entire divine order concentrated into one being; an essential conduit of all tools of realization to manifest beyond simply the desire of realization.
And she goes to war.
After a tremendous battle, Durga finally kills Mahishasura.
Thus:
Mahishasuramardini = "She who slays Mahishasura."
That is the central image you see in the Bengali Durga Puja pratima (deity).
So why ten hands?
In the popular explanation, people often say:
"Durga has ten hands because ten gods gave her ten weapons."
That's a useful symbolic explanation—but the Devī Māhātmya itself does not establish ten as the canonical number of arms.
In fact, the textual descriptions of Devi's arms vary. Some descriptions give her eight, some eighteen, and at one point she is described in essentially limitless form, filling the directions with her arms. This is not dissimilar from the later depiction of Avalokiteśvara with her thousand arms – the only Mahayana deity that has entered the worship of ordinary Buddhists in Theravada Buddhism. It represents the readiness of any and all available tools or methods to respond to continuously evolving spiritual aspiration.
Hence the ten-armed Bengali Durga is an iconographic development, not a literal requirement of the Sanskrit text.
Another interpretation of specifically the ten arms is to symbolize power in every direction. The number ten has a natural cosmological meaning:
east, west, north, south, northeast, northwest, southeast, southwest, above, below
The ten directions—daśa dik.
So the ten-armed Goddess can be understood as Shakti acting throughout the entire cosmos.
And in spite of the turbulence of all this, notice something beautiful about the Bengali image: her face remains extraordinarily calm. That is deliberate visual theology.
The Goddess is not frantic.
The universe may be in chaos, but consciousness itself is composed.
And what exactly is Mahishasura?
At the literal level, he is the buffalo demon. But the buffalo is significant. The buffalo is associated with enormous physical force, heaviness, inertia and untamed animality.
Mahishasura is also shape-shifting. He doesn't have one stable identity. He becomes whatever allows him to prevail.
So the myth isn't simply, good woman kills bad buffalo.
It is a much more sophisticated representation of disordered power.
Mahishasura represents a form of consciousness that has enormous power but lacks alignment with cosmic order—dharma. He possesses strength without wisdom. Intelligence without self-knowledge. Ambition without restraint. He represents desire and power hunger in the many manifestations.
This represents the blindsidedness of humans even when they are seeking ‘good’. The desire for reaching higher morality, doing good, bhakti, or liberation can veil the underlying nature of desire itself. The gods cannot defeat him because the effort of reaching god-like capacity is a product of wanting, of ego and of seeking higher power.
And therefore Mahishasura’s power becomes destructive.
Durga represents the opposite: immense power governed by consciousness. That's why her weapons matter. The weapons are not merely weapons. They represent the different capacities necessary to restore order.
The Bengali transformation
In Indian culture, particularly in Bengali culture, a daughter’s marriage is effectively giving her up to the family of the groom. In the simpler days of bullock-carts and farmlands, the hope of ever seeing a married daughter depended on the character and kindness of the husband and the in-laws.
The extraordinary cultural adaptation of theology renders Durga inside every Bengali’s heart. The terrifying cosmic warrior becomes Uma, the daughter of the Himalayan king Himavan and his wife Menaka. She marries Shiva and lives with him on Mount Kailash. And suddenly the cosmic Goddess becomes something intensely human: the married daughter who comes home.
This is not the central narrative of the Devī Māhātmya. It emerges from the much broader Puranic and regional traditions surrounding Parvati/Uma and becomes particularly emotionally powerful in Bengal.
In Bengali culture, Durga becomes Uma. And Shiva's Kailash becomes, metaphorically, her marital home.
Her parents' home is where she was born, the motherland of Bengal with her abundance of Ganges river and fertile soil. So every autumn Uma comes home. And she doesn't come alone. She comes with her four children:
Ganesha - representation of benevolence and spiritual wisdom. By his side the tiny mouse, representing how small the restless human mind and uncontrolled desires can become when embodying the qualities of Ganesha.
Kartikeya, the warrior god who can transform all metals into tools. The peacock serves as Kartikeya's vahana (vehicle) for its many-eyed tail representing transformation of sensory inputs (sight) into awareness (divine knowledge).
Lakshmi - the goddess of wealth and prosperity with her vahana, the owl for her ability to see in the dark – even when reality is obfuscated, and in her ability to rotate her head in all directions – representing non-fixity in biases and narrow perspectives.
Saraswati - embodiment of learning, knowledge and wisdom with her vahana, the swan who can filter pure water using her beak even when swimming and drinking from a bog.
This is the emotional heart of Bengali Durga Puja.
Why would a warrior goddess need a "homecoming"?
Historically, Bengali society—like many South Asian societies—had a strong distinction between a woman's natal home (bāpir bāri, her father's house) and her marital home. After marriage, a daughter ordinarily left her parents and became part of another household. So the annual return of the daughter became extraordinarily emotionally resonant.
Durga is simultaneously the Supreme Goddess and someone's daughter. The cosmic Mother becomes someone's little girl. The invincible warrior becomes the daughter whom her mother wants to see. The theology becomes domestic.
And this isn't incidental. The British Museum makes the same anthropological observation: Bengali Durga Puja became associated with the annual reunion of daughters with their natal families, giving the goddess's return an especially poignant emotional dimension.
So when Bengalis say, "Ma eshechhe," "Mother has come," there are actually two meanings operating simultaneously. The Divine Mother has arrived. And our daughter has come home.
The ten days of "worship"
Even though Ma Durga comes home for ten days, the celebrations are more visible and potent from the Shashthi (7th) through Dashami (10th) days. Bengalis wake up to quintessentially recognized “Mahalaya” the hymns of invocation and consecration of Shakti on the new moon prior to Durga Puja, along with marking an end to Pitri Paksha, or period of paying homage to ancestors. This marks the end of every Bengali family’s keen anticipation and the beginning of celebratory mood to welcome the return of our daughter.
The goddess is ritually invoked into the image, worshipped for several days, and then sent back through visarjan (dissolution) on Dashami. That departure is the emotional climax. The goddess whom everyone has been celebrating must leave. She returns to Kailash. And the clay image is immersed in the river, which gives Bengali Durga Puja its extraordinary bittersweet quality. Arrival → reunion → celebration → departure.
Herein lies the spiritual recognition of Impermanence. A modern day popularization of Buddhist mandala – intricate designs of spiritual symbolisms created with colored sand – is long preceded by household recognition of birth-and-death through Mahalaya and Dashami, embedding the practice of non-attachment.
The Bengali Durga image is not of wrath
It is a combination of the symbolism of Shakti tradition, Mahishasurmardini, with the homecoming of the beloved daughter with her children to her parents – an event of cosmic proportions with that of humanly connections and emotions..
Mahishasura believes that male power is the totality of power and he protects himself from gods without accounting for the feminine. And the very thing he dismisses becomes the force that destroys him.
This is a recognition that Shakti is not a subordinate power. The feminine is not merely the consort of the masculine. It is the culmination by which the masculine gods themselves are able to act.
Shiva without Shakti is inert. Vishnu without Shakti cannot preserve. Brahma without Shakti cannot create.
Durga is therefore not simply "a female version of a male warrior god." She represents the animating power of consciousness itself.
And then Bengal makes the cosmic intimate.
The Sanskrit theological story says:
The Goddess comes because the cosmos is in crisis.
Bengali culture says:
Ma comes because she misses her parents.
Those two stories coexist. This may be the most beautiful part. And that is why Bengali Durga Puja can feel simultaneously like a religious festival, a family reunion, a theatrical performance, a village/community gathering and an act of profound nostalgia.
The Goddess who can defeat the greatest demon in creation is also the daughter whose mother waits for her return.
And then comes Dashami
Dashami. The tenth day sees emotions in every Bengali heart and eyes with the sadness of the daughter returning to her husband in Kailash. Every married woman, in her best red sari, literally feeds her daughter, climbing up the ladder to reach the idol. Tears cannot be kept secret as she rubs Uma’s face with vermillion kumkum powder. The sound of a dozen dhaks (drums) rejoicing in unison with the high beat of Kansor (a brass instrument) – an unmistakable sound of Bengal.
Bijoya Dashami. Now we must say goodbye.
Women perform sindoor khela - a play of smearing each other with kumkum.
People embrace one another and say "Shubho Bijoya."
And finally the image is carried toward the river.
The Goddess made from the silt of Ganga goes back into its waters.
The form disappears. But the Goddess in her victory over Mahishasura remains.
That is almost a perfect expression of the deeper Hindu understanding of mūrti:
The clay is temporary. The presence is not.
But what about the lion?
Since my boyhood days of experiencing Durga puja, I have always wondered: if Ma Durga has all the power and weapons of the gods, why does she need the lion to attack Mahishasura. There is no satisfactory response. It is said that the lion represents the power of good over evil. Some say the lion's fierce demeanor mirrors Durga's ability to confront and overcome malevolent forces. Others say that the lion symbolizes Durga's mastery over chaotic and wild elements, showcasing her divine power.
If the buffalo symbolizes Tamas, the enormous physical force, heaviness, inertia and untamed animalism, then the lion stands for Rajas - agility, action, overcoming. The bloody attack of the lion is the relentless tension between the two gunas (sets of qualities) that keep us from equanimity, Durga then stands above it all in her divinity, representing Sattva.
Even though this is the most sophisticated explanation, I feel more is hiding here.
So here is my own attempt using a deeper understanding of Shakti Tantra.
Durga, in essence, is the representation of the means of Yoga. She is the culmination of the individual powers of many masculine gods. I have explained the symbolic meaning of some of the tools given to Durga; each is a potent component for practitioner to awaken Tantrik shakti to realize the very nature of consciousness. But knowing how to use these tools – the methods, processes, skills – are critical for the feminine Shakti to unveil, allowing the unmanifested to come to manifest. The fabric of the cosmos converges as Shakti. Lion is the representation of the potent power through this. If one is able to master the tools she becomes Durga riding the lion. If one fails, one becomes the fixity of ego-shrouded, shape-shifting ignorance, the buffalo. Its inevitable fate in the claws of the lion.
The clouds float by
The universe falls out of balance. The powers of the cosmos converge as Shakti. Durga appears. She takes the weapons of the gods. She defeats Mahishasura. The cosmic Mother becomes Uma. Uma returns to her parents' home. She brings her children. Bengal celebrates the presence of the Divine as family. She leaves on Dashami.
The form dissolves into water. The Mother remains.
And perhaps that is the deepest Bengali interpretation of Durga:
The Divine is not only that which saves the universe. The Divine is also the daughter who comes home.
Better yet: Divine is not just something that is out there. It is close to home and very intimate. And the ten arms are the perfect visual paradox: infinite cosmic power inhabiting an utterly intimate human form. The serene face of Ma Durga encode the serenity of consciousness flowing through all manifestations of prakṛti.
Bengal has celebrated Durga Puja for over fifteen hundred years. The origins of the festival likely date back to the late medieval period. Over the centuries, Durga Puja has evolved, incorporating various local traditions and rituals. This long-standing celebration highlights the cultural significance of Durga Puja in Bengal's history and its continued relevance in contemporary society.
Over this time, Durga Puja in Bengal evolved from private, domestic worship to large public community festivals, with zamindars (notable serf- and land-lords) opening their celebrations to the public centuries ago and Kolkata's festival now recognized by UNESCO in 2021. Modern celebrations increasingly feature women priests and themes highlighting social change, blending tradition with inclusivity and technology.
Lying on a patchwork of a quilt on the veranda in our shabby Manicktala house, I used to love watching the autumn clouds float against the perfect blue sky; the earth smelling fresh after monsoon. The fluffy shuili flowers in the field swaying in the breeze. The smell of freshly printed Anandamela magazine – the annual, extra thick puja edition with every short story capturing the imagination of young boys and girls.
The year is not 2026. The Bengali year is 1433.
As if to rewind time and all its modern distractions, taking us to age-old tradition, as it has been for over a thousand years. Sure, the pandals are bigger and filled with LEDs, and Amazon, Zomato, Uber crowd the streets. But the sound of Mahalaya filling the air is the same that we heard on radio at 4 AM invoking and inviting Durga in the heart of every Bengali as Uma.
And the Dhaks on Dashami beat the same rhythm to send her home.