When London becomes Kolkata

It begins with tea. The clink of cups, the aroma of steaming cha, and the murmur of conversations that stretch from politics to poetry, from family squabbles to fashion. This year in Slough, a quaint town in Berkshire, England, the adda—a lifeline of Bengali culture—isn’t just an afterthought. It is the theme. At the Slough Cricket Club, from September 25–28, the pandal will echo the nostalgia of Kolkata’s Maddox Square. Walls will glow with rangoli patterns from Karnataka, intricate flowers blooming under the soft autumn light of England. On Bijoya evening, the stage will belong to Lagnajita Chakraborty, whose voice, familiar from ‘Basant Eshe Geche’ and ‘Preme Pora Baron,’ will carry the crowd back home, even if home is thousands of miles away.

Well, that is what these Pujas are: bridges across oceans. In Cambridge, the mood is more reflective. The Indian Cultural Society, now in its 24th year of organising Durga Puja, has chosen a theme that resonates beyond faith, migration. At a time when Britain debates immigration policies fiercely, Bengalis in Cambridge remind everyone of the poet’s words: “See unity among the diverse.” Inside Netherhall School, where the Durga idol arrives carefully shipped from Kolkata, Sasthi to Dasami unfolds with devotion. President Barnali, who still insists on decorating the pandal with her own hands, puts it simply. “We want the next generation to stay rooted, even when abroad,” she said. Between aarti and sandhi puja, children race through cultural competitions, mothers stir steaming pots of bhog, and poets recite lines that blend nostalgia with belonging.

Just a little away in Camborne, the Bhattacharya Bari Puja continues its home-grown tradition. Born during the lonely days of Covid-19, it still carries the warmth of a family festival. Srabana Bhattacharya, with her careful hands and eye for detail, ensures the rituals never falter.

If Slough is adda and Cambridge is reflection, Camden is a sheer spectacle. Since 1963, the Mittal family’s Puja at the Swiss Cottage Library has been London’s jewel. For 62 years, Bengalis have gathered there, their eyes misting as the sound of the dhaak fills the hall, reminding them of mornings back in Bengal.

This year, the theme is simple yet eternal, ‘Mother.’ Uma’s return is celebrated with unmatched grandeur, Dona Ganguly dancing to Mahishasuramardini, the idol flown in from Kumartuli on a special plane, and women draped in red sarees as boys in crisp dhoti-punjabis surprise with tradition renewed. The evenings resound with conch shells, dhunuchi dance, and the sweet chaos of momo stalls sitting side by side with rosogolla and mishti doi. Dr Anand Gupta, president of the committee, puts it in words that echo beyond the mandap. “With the blessings of Mother, the best of Bengal binds us together. Future generations will carry it forward,” he said.

The heartbeat of a diaspora from Slough’s tea-fuelled adda to Cambridge’s quiet reflection, from Camden’s grandeur to Edinburgh’s joyous unity, Durga Puja in Britain isn’t just about rituals. It’s about the stubborn refusal to let go of home, even when home is oceans away. Every beat of the dhaak, every swirl of the dhunuchi smoke, every shared plate of bhog says the same thing: Kolkata lives here too.

Bong connection in Edinburgh

In Edinburgh, the SABASH Committee, founded by IT professionals in 2014, now hosts one of the most-anticipated Durga Pujas in Britain. This year marks their 12th Sharadotsav, and it’s no longer just for Bengalis. Scots, locals, and international visitors flock to witness pushpanjali, the beat of the dhaak and the dramatic sindoor khela on Dashami. “Edinburgh’s Durgotsav,” the committee president smiled, “isn’t just ours anymore. It belongs to the city.”