<p>Kolkata: In a state where religion, politics and protest have long shared public space, the ongoing Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of electoral rolls in West Bengal has now found an unlikely canvas -- the Saraswati Puja marquee.</p><p>At Ballygunge Science College, the annual worship of the goddess of learning has been recast into a sharply political tableau, with students turning the puja decor into a commentary on what has become one of West Bengal's most polarising issues ahead of the 2026 Assembly elections.</p><p>At the heart of the installation is a dark, black-hole-like backdrop, punctuated by dozens of outstretched hands clutching documents -- school admit cards, identity papers, certificates -- symbolising what students describe as "ordinary people being rendered invalid" during the SIR process. Several symbolic nooses hang overhead, a stark reference to alleged suicides triggered by fear and mental stress linked to the exercise.</p><p>"We wanted to show the anxiety, the humiliation, the feeling of being erased," said a second-year neuroscience student, requesting anonymity. "This puja is our prayer that this harassment must stop immediately."</p><p>At the centre of the pandal stands a goalpost, literal and metaphorical.</p><p>On one side hangs a green jersey marked '250', echoing the ruling Trinamool Congress's oft-repeated electoral target. On the other, a saffron jersey carries a question mark, an unmistakable nod to the BJP and the uncertainty surrounding the political outcome.</p><p>If the imagery is subtle, the messaging is not.</p>.Three to four people dying by suicide in West Bengal everyday due to SIR anxiety: Mamata Banerjee.<p>SIR, officially a routine electoral exercise, has in recent months snowballed into a political flashpoint in West Bengal, with the ruling TMC alleging harassment of voters and the opposition BJP insisting the process is essential to weed out illegal names from the rolls. Street protests, blockades, and clashes have followed, turning a bureaucratic revision into a mass political mobilisation.</p><p>Inside the Ballygunge Science College pandal, that larger churn is woven seamlessly into religious ritual.</p><p>Behind the idol of Saraswati, flex banners extolling the TMC government's development initiatives sit cheek by jowl with visual critiques of SIR.</p><p>Nearby, a "Sebashray" flex, advertising the TMC-run welfare outreach, reinforces the ruling party's narrative of governance and care. The juxtaposition is deliberate: faith, welfare and franchise occupying the same sacred frame.</p><p>"Politics has entered the puja because politics has entered our lives," said one of the student organisers. "When voting rights feel threatened, students cannot remain silent spectators."</p><p>The experiment has triggered debate well beyond the campus. Critics argue that religious spaces should remain apolitical; supporters counter that Bengal's pujas have historically doubled as platforms for social commentary, from colonial resistance to contemporary dissent.</p><p>The tension between devotion and discord spilled onto the streets elsewhere in the city.</p><p>In Behala, rival student groups clashed over control of a Saraswati Puja celebration at a college, leaving several injured and forcing police intervention.</p><p>The situation escalated to such an extent that local TMC MLA and councillor Ratna Chatterjee had to rush to the spot to defuse tensions. Police detained several students before restoring calm.</p><p>The twin episodes, a politicised puja in Ballygunge and violent contestation in Behala, underscore how deeply politics has seeped into youth spaces as Bengal inches closer to another high-stakes election.</p><p>For the ruling party, SIR is an emotive issue to rally voters around perceived disenfranchisement. For the BJP, it is a law-and-order and national security question tied to electoral integrity. For students, as the Ballygunge pandal suggests, it has become something more intimate -- a question of identity, anxiety and belonging.</p><p>As conch shells blow and hymns rise in praise of the goddess of wisdom, the message from this corner of south Kolkata is unmistakable: in Bengal, even worship listens closely to the pulse of politics.</p><p>And this Saraswati Puja, the ballot, or the fear of losing it, has quietly taken its place beside the book and the veena.</p>
<p>Kolkata: In a state where religion, politics and protest have long shared public space, the ongoing Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of electoral rolls in West Bengal has now found an unlikely canvas -- the Saraswati Puja marquee.</p><p>At Ballygunge Science College, the annual worship of the goddess of learning has been recast into a sharply political tableau, with students turning the puja decor into a commentary on what has become one of West Bengal's most polarising issues ahead of the 2026 Assembly elections.</p><p>At the heart of the installation is a dark, black-hole-like backdrop, punctuated by dozens of outstretched hands clutching documents -- school admit cards, identity papers, certificates -- symbolising what students describe as "ordinary people being rendered invalid" during the SIR process. Several symbolic nooses hang overhead, a stark reference to alleged suicides triggered by fear and mental stress linked to the exercise.</p><p>"We wanted to show the anxiety, the humiliation, the feeling of being erased," said a second-year neuroscience student, requesting anonymity. "This puja is our prayer that this harassment must stop immediately."</p><p>At the centre of the pandal stands a goalpost, literal and metaphorical.</p><p>On one side hangs a green jersey marked '250', echoing the ruling Trinamool Congress's oft-repeated electoral target. On the other, a saffron jersey carries a question mark, an unmistakable nod to the BJP and the uncertainty surrounding the political outcome.</p><p>If the imagery is subtle, the messaging is not.</p>.Three to four people dying by suicide in West Bengal everyday due to SIR anxiety: Mamata Banerjee.<p>SIR, officially a routine electoral exercise, has in recent months snowballed into a political flashpoint in West Bengal, with the ruling TMC alleging harassment of voters and the opposition BJP insisting the process is essential to weed out illegal names from the rolls. Street protests, blockades, and clashes have followed, turning a bureaucratic revision into a mass political mobilisation.</p><p>Inside the Ballygunge Science College pandal, that larger churn is woven seamlessly into religious ritual.</p><p>Behind the idol of Saraswati, flex banners extolling the TMC government's development initiatives sit cheek by jowl with visual critiques of SIR.</p><p>Nearby, a "Sebashray" flex, advertising the TMC-run welfare outreach, reinforces the ruling party's narrative of governance and care. The juxtaposition is deliberate: faith, welfare and franchise occupying the same sacred frame.</p><p>"Politics has entered the puja because politics has entered our lives," said one of the student organisers. "When voting rights feel threatened, students cannot remain silent spectators."</p><p>The experiment has triggered debate well beyond the campus. Critics argue that religious spaces should remain apolitical; supporters counter that Bengal's pujas have historically doubled as platforms for social commentary, from colonial resistance to contemporary dissent.</p><p>The tension between devotion and discord spilled onto the streets elsewhere in the city.</p><p>In Behala, rival student groups clashed over control of a Saraswati Puja celebration at a college, leaving several injured and forcing police intervention.</p><p>The situation escalated to such an extent that local TMC MLA and councillor Ratna Chatterjee had to rush to the spot to defuse tensions. Police detained several students before restoring calm.</p><p>The twin episodes, a politicised puja in Ballygunge and violent contestation in Behala, underscore how deeply politics has seeped into youth spaces as Bengal inches closer to another high-stakes election.</p><p>For the ruling party, SIR is an emotive issue to rally voters around perceived disenfranchisement. For the BJP, it is a law-and-order and national security question tied to electoral integrity. For students, as the Ballygunge pandal suggests, it has become something more intimate -- a question of identity, anxiety and belonging.</p><p>As conch shells blow and hymns rise in praise of the goddess of wisdom, the message from this corner of south Kolkata is unmistakable: in Bengal, even worship listens closely to the pulse of politics.</p><p>And this Saraswati Puja, the ballot, or the fear of losing it, has quietly taken its place beside the book and the veena.</p>