As the ninth day of Chaitra Navratri rolls around, it’s time for one of India’s biggest celebrations—the birth of Lord Ram. Across the country, including West Bengal, Ram devotees gear up for Shobha Yatras, the holy processions that light up the streets. When the nation is going to celebrate the avatar of Shri Ram, Mamata Banerjee-led government seems dead-set on throwing a wrench into these plans, just like they do every year.
The West Bengal police have denied permissions for most Ram Navami processions, citing concerns over law and order and traffic management. Curiously, this same force recently urged the Cricket Association of Bengal and the BCCI to shift an IPL match scheduled for April 6—Ram Navami day—to another state, claiming they’d be stretched thin by the celebrations. On one hand, they acknowledge the scale of the occasion; on the other, they’re blocking the very events driving it. The contradiction raises eyebrows.
Behind the scenes, a clear strategy emerges. The administration knows the High Court has consistently overturned such bans in the past, ensuring the rallies proceed. So why persist? The answer lies in diversion: by forcing organizers into legal battles, the police sap time and resources that could enhance the processions. With the 2026 Assembly elections looming, this Ram Navami—the last before the polls—carries extra weight.
BJP leader Suvendu Adhikari has pledged a historic turnout, with Hindutva organizations aiming to mobilize 1.5 crore participants statewide. For Mamata Banerjee and her Trinamool Congress (TMC), that’s a political challenge they can’t ignore.
The response? A two-pronged approach. First, reject permissions to limit the scale and momentum of the Shobha Yatras. Second, impose strict controls—dictating song choices, capping participant numbers, and even approving slogans.
In Metiabruz, dubbed “Mini Pakistan” by Kolkata’s mayor, organizer Bir Bahadur Singh reports police demanding a playlist for his rally. The micromanagement doesn’t end there: organizers face a barrage of paperwork and the constant threat of legal action. In Bengal’s “secular” framework, celebrating Ram Navami comes with a target on your back.
This isn’t a new playbook. Each year, police file cases, make arrests, and haul organizers through courts—yet the Shobha Yatras grow stronger. Take the RG Kar incident: a mob vandalized a crime scene, and hospital authorities compounded the chaos, all under the watch of a seemingly helpless Kolkata Police. Now, that same force, led by Commissioner Manoj Verma, patrols Belgachia, the vicinity of RG Kar to “assess law and order”—a thinly veiled attempt to intimidate devotees. Swords, trishuls, DJ music, and even motorcycles are banned; a saffron-clad rider on two wheels could trigger legal repercussions.
History, though, tilts in favor of the faithful. Surendra Verma, a 12-year veteran with Anjani Putra Sena, told ANI that his procession was rejected again, with police labeling the area “sensitive.” Last year, the same excuse didn’t hold up—the High Court stepped in, and a peaceful march took place.
“Eid prayers can spill onto the streets without a hitch,” he points out, “but when it’s Ram Navami, the resistance kicks in.”
Amid TMC’s struggles—bogged down by corruption scandals and the RG Kar fallout—this feels like a desperate bid to blunt a rising saffron tide. Yet the evidence suggests it’s a losing battle. Organizers, Hindutva groups, BJP leaders, and citizens remain undeterred, vowing to make this Ram Navami a resounding success. The police may tighten their grip, but Bengal’s Ram Bhakts are poised to march louder and prouder than ever, proving devotion can outlast bureaucratic roadblocks.
P.S.: The article’s author, Pratyush Singh (Researcher), can be reached at @PratyushWB
