children-of-sonagachi-rewrite-rules-of-durga-puja

In the labyrinth of Sonagachi, Asia’s largest red-light district in north Kolkata where shadows often speak louder than light, a new story is being written this Durga Puja—by the children of sex workers themselves. For the first time, they are not just participants but the architects of a festival that has always belonged to the mainstream.

 

The celebration, organised by Amra Padatik—an association of sex workers’ children—will not compete with the grand, glittering pandals that Kolkata is famous for. Instead, it will emerge quietly, almost defiantly, near the Shitala temple in Sonagachi.

 

There will be no 20-foot idol of Maa Durga with golden ornaments, no thunderous ‘dhaak’ reverberating through gigantic tents, no serpentine queues of pandal-hoppers. Instead, what will stand tall are the children themselves. Their art, their voice, their courage will form the deity.

 

The event has been named “Chhotoder Durga, Chhotoder Mela”—a carnival of the young, for the young. This is not just a celebration, but a reclamation of dignity.

 

“Durga Puja is about joy, light, and union. Just as Maa Durga destroys evil forces, this festival should remind everyone that every child deserves equal rights, dignity, and love,” said Ratul (name changed), a core member of Amra Padatik, adding. “The smile of a child is the real flame of Sharodiya.”

 

Talent as worship, performance as prayer

 

In this puja, children are the living deities themselves. Dance, drama, music and storytelling will replace ritualistic offerings.

 

“After school, we rehearse dance steps. Between tuition and homework, we practice songs. This is our puja,” said 13-year-old Sumi (name changed), her voice carrying both excitement and nerves.

 

Every pirouette, every chorus sung, becomes a prayer of belonging. For these children, art is not a pastime—it is survival, a way to be seen in a world that often erases them.

 

From shadows to spotlight

 

Durga Puja in Sonagachi has always carried unique symbolism. For decades, the mothers—the sex workers themselves—organised their own puja, braving stigma and indifference. They turned their profession’s most maligned address into a place of festivity, where the goddess resided not in judgement but in acceptance.

 

But this year marks a shift. The baton has been claimed by their children.

 

“We fought for our mothers’ dignity,” said Shrestha (name changed), another member of Amra Padatik, adding, “Now we fight for our own. People think children of sex workers are different, stained. But we are also human. We have creativity, artistry, imagination. No one acknowledges that. This puja is our declaration.”

 

For once, the spotlight does not shine on their identity as “children of sex workers,” but on their talent as dancers, actors, singers, and organisers.

 

Guests and goddesses

 

The inauguration on September 22 promises to be historic. Among the guests will be singer Usha Uthup, state minister Shashi Panja, MLA Debashis Kumar and several stalwarts from Bengal’s cultural scene.

 

Yet, the true stars will be the children themselves. For once, they will not be whispered about, pitied, or ignored—they will be applauded.

 

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“For these children, growing up in Sonagachi means carrying invisible burdens from birth. They are often excluded, bullied, or treated as “different” by peers and teachers in mainstream schools. Many face disruptions in education due to economic hardship, instability, or social discrimination,” said Kumar.

 

“Sometimes teachers treat us differently. Classmates taunt us. They say our mothers are bad women,” admitted one boy, barely in Class 8. “But this puja is our answer. We are not ashamed. We are proud.”

 

Sociologists point out that such initiatives are crucial in breaking inter-generational cycles of marginalisation. Dr. Ranjana Mukherjee, Kolkata-based social researcher, observed: “Events like this not only provide confidence to the children but also reshape society’s gaze. Instead of pity, they evoke respect. Instead of silence, they generate dialogue.”

 

Mothers’ legacy, children’s turn

 

It is worth remembering that Sonagachi’s Durga Puja itself was born from resistance. More than a decade ago, sex workers began organising it as a means of asserting their cultural belonging. Despite ridicule, they built pandals, installed idols, and celebrated like every other neighbourhood in Kolkata.

 

This year, while the mothers continue their own puja, the parallel celebration by the children is not a rebellion—it is an arrival.

 

“It’s like two rivers flowing together,” said a senior member of the Durbar Mahila Samanwaya Committee (DMSC), the collective of sex workers that pioneered empowerment in Sonagachi. “The mothers fought for space in society. Now their children are fighting for visibility. It is a continuum of dignity.”

 

Durga beyond clay and colour

 

The essence of Durga Puja lies in the goddess’s power to vanquish evil and restore balance. In Sonagachi, the goddess is not sculpted in clay or adorned with gold. She lives in resilience, in the laughter of children, in the boldness of a dance performed under sceptical eyes.

 

Theirs is a puja of spirit, where rhythm and resilience replace pushpanjali. Every beat of the drum, every swirl of a skirt, is an invocation of a goddess who belongs in human hearts, not in ivory towers.

 

Durga Puja in Kolkata has been declared UNESCO’s “Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.” The festival, with its dazzling pandals and footfalls in crores, is both spectacle and spiritual anchor. Against that backdrop, Sonagachi’s “Chhotoder Durga, Chhotoder Mela” is a reminder that the goddess does not live only in grandeur.

 

Also read: Mariticide overshadows dowry deaths in India

 

Here, she lives in the everyday fight for equality, in the dignity denied for generations, in the stubborn courage of children who refuse to be written off.

 

A festival of firsts, a future of hope

 

This festival is not just about one year or one event. Organisers hope it will become an annual tradition, growing stronger with each season. The children, many of whom dream of becoming teachers, artists, lawyers, or doctors, see it as a platform to show they are more than their label.

 

“Next year we want to invite more schools, more children from outside Sonagachi. We want to show we are not separate. We are part of Kolkata,” said one young organiser.

 

The message is clear: inclusion, not isolation.

 

Beyond Sonagachi, beyond stigma

 

The struggles of sex workers’ children are not unique to Kolkata. Children born into red-light districts across India face the same cocktail of poverty, prejudice and invisibility. Initiatives like Amra Padatik’s puja shine a light on what empowerment looks like when driven from within, not imposed from outside.

 

As Kolkata prepares to drown itself in lights, sound and art this Durga Puja, Sonagachi’s modest mela whispers a powerful truth: joy and dignity need recognition, do not need grandeur.

 

Theirs is not a puja of clay and paint. It is one of spirit. One where Durga is not sculpted but lived—through resilience, rhythm, and the audacity to say: we belong.

 

By Pranab Mondal