One day divine, next day discarded? Guwahati's roads choke on abandoned idols

On January 23, during Saraswati Puja, the streets of Guwahati thrummed with devotion. Families, students, and artists paid homage to the goddess of knowledge, learning, art, music, and speech. Just two days ago, Guwahati bloomed with intricate idols of Goddess Saraswati—plaster figures adorned in yellow and blue sarees, cradling her veena, flanked by books and pens. With bhajans echoing in every nook and cranny of the city as children bore their books to the pandals for her blessings, the city held its breath in collective aspiration.

"The world moves faster than you think"- a saying I have always heard, and today, just 48 hours after Saraswati Puja, I witnessed its brutal truth firsthand: reverence lay shattered—literally!

While returning from a market run yesterday, on January 24, I witnessed a poignant scene outside Ganeshguri market place: clusters of Saraswati idols abandoned on the roadside. It wasn't just one- the entire footpath brimmed with them, their serene faces smeared with faded sindoor, hair unclamped, wilted flower garlands drooping- a tableau of devotion discarded mere hours after worship. After witnessing that heartbreaking scene, a disturbing question echoed relentlessly in my mind: "Do we worship merely for the show now? Has religion devolved into a grand show for social media and fleeting moments of joy, devoid of true respect for gods, idols, and our very own heritage?"

If you're picturing that this happens only during Saraswati Puja, let me break it down: This abandonment isn't unique to Guwahati, this isn't isolated negligence- it's a ritual of inconsideration. From the banks of the Brahmaputra to GS Road, Zoo Road, Ulubari, and beyond, the post-puja landscape litters with innumerable idols after every festival. In Assam's culturally rich heartland, the sight cuts deep. The deities we invoke in crisis now beg for dignity in the dust. We pray eagerly when exams loom or troubles strike, only to discard the divine once the festival fades. And no, this isn't Saraswati Puja alone- Guwahati's post-festival streets repeat the grim ritual every time.

But here's where tradition clashes with reality. The abandonment stems from a stark environmental mandate. Plaster-of-Paris (PoP) idols, laden with toxic paints containing harmful chemicals like lead, mercury, and chromium, spike river toxicity and cause pH imbalances when immersed in water bodies like the Brahmaputra- disrupting aquatic life and contaminating drinking water sources.

Designated eco-friendly immersion sites for non-toxic clay idols exist, but non-compliance breeds roadside dumps—mocking nature and faith alike. Solutions exist to honor both tradition and earth, but the question remains: "Are we considerate enough to take the initiative, will we act?"

Outside Ganeshguri market place, the forsaken idols stand as Guwahati's quiet indictment- a fleeting festival exposing enduring flaws in faith and fervor. Will Guwahati choose reverence over rubbish, or continue discarding the divine?