Behind every magnificent Durga idol is an artisan whose labour often goes unnoticed
Every year, as Durga Puja arrives, Guwahati transforms into a city of lights, elaborate pandals, colourful decorations and thousands of devotees gathering to seek the blessings of Maa Durga. The streets come alive with festivities, the sound of dhak fills the air, and beautifully crafted idols become the centre of attraction at puja mandaps across the city.
ALSO READ: Cap Guns, Toy Pistols Lose Popularity at Guwahati’s Durga Puja Stalls
But amid all the excitement, how often do we stop to think about the people who make these celebrations possible? Who are the hands that shape the face of the Goddess, the people who spend months working with hay, clay and paint to create the idols that devotees eventually worship?
Behind every magnificent Durga idol is an artisan whose labour often goes unnoticed. They are the murtikars, the traditional idol-makers who work tirelessly, sometimes for months, to bring Maa Durga and her divine companions to life. While their creations receive admiration from thousands, the people behind them rarely get the same attention.
As Guwahati celebrates Durga Puja with grandeur, the stories of these artisans offer a glimpse into the hard work, emotional attachment and uncertainty thatexist behind the festivities.
For the murtikars, Durga Puja is not simply a festival that arrives in October. It is a process that begins months in advance, with long working hours, careful planning and the responsibility of meeting the expectations of puja committees.
From building the basic structures with hay and bamboo to shaping the idols with clay, adding intricate details and applying the final layers of paint, every stage requires patience, precision and experience.
Speaking about their working schedule, an artisan said that preparing the idols for Durga Puja takes nearly six months of continuous effort.
“We have to work for six months to make the murtis ready for Durga Puja. We work day and night and complete the requirements,” the artisan said.
The work is not limited to shaping an idol. Every creation must be completed within a fixed deadline, as puja committees depend on the artisans to deliver the idols before the celebrations begin. The size, design and details of each murtiadd to the effort, leaving little room for delays.
While Durga Puja is a time of celebration for devotees, for artisans it is also one of the most demanding periods of the year.
Long working hours, pressure to meet deadlines and the need to fulfil multiple orders can make the months leading up to the festival exhausting. Yet, despite the stress, the season remains important to their livelihoods.
Asked whether the work becomes stressful, an artisan acknowledged the pressure but said that the period also brings the income on which their families depend.
“It is stressful, but still we wait for this time. We earn during this period, and that is enough for our family,” he said.
For many artisans, the months leading up to Durga Puja represent a crucial earning period. Their work and income are closely tied to the festival, making the season both an opportunity and a challenge.
The excitement surrounding the festival, therefore, carries a different meaning for those who create its most important symbols. While devotees look forward to new pandals and elaborate decorations, artisans look forward to completing their work, fulfilling orders and earning enough to support their households.
Their contribution is central to the celebrations, but the pressures they face rarely become part of the public conversation.
Beyond the physical labour and financial dependence lies an emotional connection that is difficult to measure.
For the artisans, the idols are not merely objects made from hay, bamboo and clay. They are creations shaped by their time, energy, skill and personal emotions. The process of making an idol involves more than technical expertise; it also carries a deep sense of attachment.
Artisan Rohit Pal described the feeling of completing an idol as something far more personal than finishing a piece of work.
“For us, these are not just murtis made with hay and mud. They are a combination of our energy, emotions and hard work. Once the idol is complete, it feels as if we have brought our Maa to life,” Pal said.
For months, the artisans watch their creations gradually take shape. They work on the smallest details, carefully bringing the Goddess's expressions, ornaments and features to life. By the time an idol is ready for delivery, it has become the result of countless hours of attention and effort.
But the moment of completion also brings the moment of separation.
“When people come to take delivery and our place becomes empty, we feel very bad and sad. It is a heartbreaking experience. Then we wait another year to experience this feeling again,” Pal said.
For devotees, bringing Maa Durga home to a pandal marks the beginning of the festivities. For the artisans, it marks the end of a long and deeply personal journey.
The empty workspace that remains after the idols are taken away tells another story of Durga Puja, one that is rarely seen amid the celebrations. The artisans return to their routines, carrying memories of the work they have completed while waiting for the cycle to begin again.
While the emotional rewards of their craft remain significant, artisans say the practical challenges of sustaining their livelihoods cannot be ignored.
“We have complained many times to the government and asked for help for our community, but we do not get any facilities. There is no pension, no schemes, nothing. Sometimes, we struggle even to lead a normal life. We request the government to at least help us,” the artisan said.
The concern raises questions about the long-term security of people whose traditional skills form an essential part of cultural and religious celebrations.
Their work requires years of experience and specialised craftsmanship, yet the income they earn is closely linked to seasonal demand. The pressure of completing orders during a limited period can be considerable, while the months between festivals may bring different financial challenges.
The artisan's appeal also highlights the need to understand their concerns beyond the festival season.
Recognition of their artistic contribution is important, but so is examining whether traditional craftspeople have access to appropriate welfare support, financial security and assistance that could help sustain their livelihoods.
For a community that helps bring one of the most significant annual celebrations to life, the question is not only how their work can be appreciated, but also how their lives can be made more secure.
Durga Puja is a celebration of devotion, creativity and the triumph of good over evil. Across Guwahati, the elaborate pandals and beautifully crafted idols become gathering points for people from different walks of life.
Yet, behind the public spectacle lies a quieter story of artisans who devote months of their lives to creating the very figures that inspire the celebrations.
Their work demands physical endurance, artistic skill and emotional investment. They experience the satisfaction of bringing the Goddess to life, the sadness of watching their creations leave their workshops and the uncertainty of sustaining their families through a largely seasonal occupation.
The artisans may remain behind the scenes, but their contribution stands at the very centre of the festival.
Their hands shape the idols, their labour sustains a tradition, and their emotions become part of every creation.
When the lights fade, the pandals are dismantled and the city returns to its usual rhythm, what remains for the people who made the celebration possible? Beyond the admiration their creations receive for a few days, will their craft and their concerns receive the recognition and support they have long been asking for?
