The fiery triumph of good over evil

The story of the victory of Lord Rāma—who rescues his kidnapped wife Sita from the ten-headed demon king Rāvana—is reenacted each year throughout India during the ten-day Hindu celebration of Dassehra. At the 1985 Festival, the drama unfolded in the center of Mela! An Indian Fair.

A melā is a combination bazaar, street fair, and cultural festival that people travel far and wide to attend. At the composite melā in Washington, D.C., visitors were immersed in the sights, sounds, smells, and rituals of regional India. An outdoor “Learning Center” housed a performing space and workshop area devoted to ritual activities. There, Jamil Ahmed, Bal Mukand, Gopal Singh, and others from Uttar Pradesh worked to create the towering effigies of Rāvana and his allies, son Meghanada and brother Kumbhakarna. Visitors watched them carefully split and tie together the bamboo sticks that formed the structure of the flamboyant characters. These forms were then covered with papier-mâché, brightly painted, and embellished with oversized jewels. Once finished, the effigies were laid out on the ground, securely assembled, and raised by ropes to their upright positions.

On the evening of July 5, the epic confrontation between Rāma and Rāvana took place on the National Mall. At the drama’s climax, Rāma shoots a blazing arrow into the demon king, who explodes into flames. It is a noisy conflagration—all three effigies are packed with firecrackers. In the end, good triumphs over evil, and the audience is cleansed in the process.

The Mela! program lives on in people’s memories. Visitors recount their fascination watching figures emerge from the piles of thin bamboo sticks. Staff remember the complex logistics of mounting the finale—in essence a giant bonfire—on the country’s most restricted National Park. Fire trucks, firefighters, and emergency supplies were everywhere. For former Festival director Diana Parker, exposure to the distinctly non-Western practice of destroying something so exquisite for ritual purposes was both transfixing and unforgettable. All that remained was a 29-inch length of singed bamboo, which was used by staff for many years to talk about the purpose of the Festival, including its occasionally dramatic events—and the transience of some of them.