କୁଆଁର ପୁନେଇଁ ଜହ୍ନଗୋ, ଫୁଲ ବଉଳ ବେଣୀ!

There is an unspoken tenderness in the rural festivals of Odisha — a rhythm that moves beyond ritual, binding people into a single pulse of collective existence. Nights of Kumar Purnima unfold with girls singing Phula Baula Beni, their hands clapping in sync beneath the wide Sharata Purnima moon. The air is fragrant with incense, laughter, and the distant hum of Gajalaxmi Puja preparations, where lamps, diyas, and garlands adorn doorways like constellations pulled down to earth.

On the surface, these festivals seem to be about beauty, prosperity, and devotion. But beneath their ritualistic glow lies a deeper narrative — one about how societies teach children to belong, how communities inscribe moral order into the heart of celebration, and how women, while placed at the centre of worship, often remain confined within invisible boundaries of reverence and restraint.

The Village as a Classroom

In the villages of Odisha, festivals are the earliest institutions of learning. Before children encounter textbooks, they are introduced to the cadence of community. The palli becomes a classroom where values are not lectured but lived, where one learns the meaning of sahabhāgita (participation), sāmanjasyā (harmony), and maryādā (respect). A child growing up amidst such festivals learns instinctively that celebration is not an individual pursuit but a shared duty. Every hand contributes, sweeping the courtyard, preparing Chanda Bhoga, arranging alati thalis, or fetching water from the pond. In that collective action, the child learns belonging.

But this belonging comes with structure. Festivals teach joy, but they also teach order. Every gesture, from how a girl ties her hair for Kumar Utsav to how a boy assists in decking up the Tulasi Chaura, is a small rehearsal of societal expectation. It is here that culture performs its quiet pedagogy, disguising social hierarchy in the rhythm of participation. While the lessons are beautiful, they are not neutral. They define what is permissible, graceful, and desirable — and these definitions differ sharply for boys and girls.

The Moon and the Maiden

Kumar Utsav is one of the most poetic festivals in Odisha’s calendar. On this full-moon night, young unmarried girls — Kuanris — gather under the soft glow of the sky, offering prayers to the moon and singing Phula Baula Beni. The song itself is playful and tender, celebrating youth and anticipation. The moon becomes both confidante and mirror, reflecting the ideal image society has for its women: calm, radiant, gentle, and contained.

It is easy to read these rituals as innocent customs, but their symbolic weight is profound. The repetition of such performances shapes what generations come to understand as feminine virtue. Grace is celebrated, but assertiveness is not; beauty is admired, but desire is regulated. The Puchi games played on this night, the synchronised songs, and the collective laughter all train the participants in harmony, but it is harmony under a moral gaze. The circle is at once inclusive and enclosing.

The Goddess and the Woman

When the season turns and Gajalaxmi Puja arrives, the scene shifts from youthful play to domestic divinity. Women lead the celebration, decorating their homes, managing rituals, and transforming ordinary spaces into temples of abundance. On paper, this is a festival of empowerment — one where women are organisers, decision-makers, and spiritual anchors. Yet, the symbolism is double-edged. The goddess Lakshmi, radiant and self-sufficient, represents prosperity and moral order, but the mortal woman worshipping her is rarely allowed to embody the same autonomy.

In the cultural imagination of Odisha, and indeed much of India, the goddess is not merely adored — she is idealised. And idealisation often carries within it a quiet demand for perfection. The woman becomes a reflection of Lakshmi’s virtues — patient, giving, and self-sacrificing. Her agency is celebrated only when it aligns with duty. Within that framing, divinity becomes a delicate mask for discipline. The woman is worshipped not for her individuality, but for her ability to preserve domestic balance and moral continuity. The paradox is striking: the goddess liberates symbolically what society binds socially.

Reverence as Regulation

Odisha’s cultural calendar is rich with rituals that centre on women — Khudurukuni Osha, Manabasa Gurubar, Savitri Brata, Raja Parba. Each of these festivals grants women ritual authority, positioning them as keepers of prosperity and family well-being. Yet, what appears as reverence often conceals regulation. In most of these observances, women’s strength is expressed through fasting, prayer, and service. Her body becomes a vessel of devotion, and her worth is measured by endurance. She is honoured as the moral nucleus of the family — a role both elevated and exhausting.

Over time, this reverence becomes its own kind of expectation. The woman who does not fast, the daughter who does not pray, or the wife who questions the ritual risks moral disapproval. Her identity becomes entwined with her compliance. It is through these soft moral codes, repeated and normalised, that patriarchy sustains itself, not through coercion, but through ritual.

The Contract of Continuity

Festivals are the glue of rural society. They preserve order under the guise of celebration. Men lead processions; women decorate thresholds. Boys manage the lights; girls prepare offerings. Every role is rehearsed, reaffirmed, and passed down. In the process, children internalise a worldview in which gender is both sacred and segregated.

This isn’t to say that festivals consciously oppress — rather, they embody what society unconsciously believes about balance and hierarchy. Order becomes virtue. Harmony becomes destiny. The beauty of the ritual lies precisely in how seamlessly it hides its boundaries. No one tells the child that a woman’s virtue lies in restraint; she learns it from who is allowed to speak, who performs the prayer, and who watches silently.

What the Moon Still Asks

The real question is not whether these festivals are patriarchal or empowering. It is whether we are willing to see both truths at once. When a girl sings Phula Baula Beni, she is indeed celebrating herself, her community, and the promise of life. But she is also unconsciously performing a role society has long rehearsed for her. When a woman prays to Lakshmi, she embodies devotion — but also duty, expectation, and sometimes exhaustion.

What makes Odisha’s rural festivals remarkable is precisely this tension — the coexistence of freedom and framing, beauty and burden, empowerment and expectation. They reveal how culture can be both mirror and mould, how worship can be both liberation and leash.

As the lamps fade and the moonlight lingers on the still ponds of the countryside, one cannot help but wonder — if the goddess we worship is a symbol of prosperity and grace, what would it mean for her devotees to inherit not her patience, but her power? What happens when the songs of celebration become songs of self-definition? Perhaps then, Phula Baula Beni will not just be a hymn of devotion, but an anthem of awakening.

Editorial Note

At ParibhaAsha HeritEdge Lab, we believe cultural memory is not a static inheritance but a living dialogue. Our work explores how traditions — from the courtyard games of Kumar Purnima to the household rituals of Gajalaxmi Puja — continue to shape how we see gender, community, and faith in modern Odisha. By documenting and decoding such practices, we hope to create bridges between reverence and reason, celebration and consciousness — reminding readers that culture evolves best when it learns to question itself.

References

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• Chakravarti, Uma. Gendering Caste through a Feminist Lens. Stree, 2003.

• Ortner, Sherry B. Is Female to Male as Nature is to Culture? Feminist Studies, 1972.

• Singh, R. P. (2020). Folk Rituals and Gender Agency in Coastal Odisha. Indian Anthropologist.

• Orissa Review (Govt. of Odisha): Lakshmi Worship Traditions of Odisha.

• Institute for Social and Economic Change (2019). Gendered Ritual Practices and Social Capital in Rural Eastern India.

• Odisha Virtual Academy Archives (2021): Oral Documentation of Folk Rituals from Dhenkanal & Kendrapada Districts.