A few days ago, parts of Bengal celebrated Ranna Puja, which is marked by Arandhan, or the day of no cooking. A day before that, the kitchen turns busy. Rice, dal, vegetables, fish and sweets are prepared throughout the day and, in many households, cooking continues late into the night. The following day, the hearth is not lit. Instead, the food prepared the previous night is offered as bhog and eaten by the family. This practice of cooking in advance and abstaining from cooking and using fire on the day of the ritual is what Arandhan means.
The ritual is observed in parts of West Bengal around the end of the Bengali month of Bhadra, particularly in connection with Manasa Puja and, usually, the day before Vishwakarma Puja. While the exact observance varies regionally and according to family customs, its central idea remains the same: the kitchen is cleaned, the season’s produce is cooked and offered, and the hearth is given a day’s rest.
The Night The Kitchen Does Not Sleep
The preparation begins before the first dish reaches the stove. In traditional households, the kitchen is thoroughly cleaned and its utensils are washed. Traditionally, a new earthen stove was made for the occasion, with cooking carried out in new utensils, and a branch of the date palm used as a sort of spatula. These practices are part of the ritual preparation rather than simply a way of organising the meal.
Then comes the cooking. The menu is not fixed, but it is built around seasonal vegetables, fish and dishes that can be prepared in advance. Five kinds of fried vegetables are common, with potato, brinjal, pumpkin, banana and snake gourd among the options. Dal, vegetable preparations, leafy greens, chutney and sweets are also made. In households that eat fish, ilish and rohu feature prominently. Panta bhat—rice soaked in water overnight—is one of the most recognisable foods associated with Arandhan.
The spread reflects the late-monsoon Bengali kitchen. Chalta, or elephant apple, appears as a sweet-sour chutney or is cooked with dal; ash gourd, pointed gourd, taro leaves, coconut and other vegetables appear in different preparations. There is no single prescribed menu; each household cooks what it enjoys and prefers to eat on this day.
Why Manasa Is At The Centre
Ranna Puja is closely associated with Manasa, the snake goddess, and in several parts of Bengal the ritual is considered an integral part of Manasa Puja. A Manasa ghat is placed in or beside the kitchen, often decorated with branches of shaluk and fanimanasa. The hearth itself has ritual significance, turning the kitchen from an everyday workspace into the centre of the observance.
The association with snakes is rooted in the traditional landscape of rural Bengal, where the end of the monsoon was also a time when waterlogged areas and homes could see increased encounters with snakes. The ritual therefore carries a longstanding belief that worshipping Manasa protects the household from snakes and other dangers. Some accounts also connect the extensive cleaning of the house and kitchen before the puja with the practical need to clear spaces where snakes, rats and insects could shelter.
On the day of the puja, the previous night’s food is arranged as an offering. Seven shapla leaves are used as plates around the representation of Ashtanag, with the cooked dishes placed on them. A lamp and incense are lit before the puja, after which family members offer prayers and the food is served to those gathered.
A Feast Designed For The Next Day
The food of Ranna Puja is unusual because freshness is not the point. The meal is deliberately prepared a day in advance, and its dishes are kept overnight before they are eaten. Panta bhat, fried vegetables, dal, leafy greens, chutneys and sweets naturally fit this pattern. In many households, the food is eaten cold or at room temperature after being offered to the deity.
Panta bhat and ilish are particularly associated with the tradition in some Bengali families. The rice is cooked and soaked overnight, while ilish represents one of the seasonal fish associated with the monsoon. A traditional spread can move from panta bhat and fried vegetables to dal, vegetable preparations and fish, ending with the sharp sweetness of chaltar tok and sweets.
For a festival built around the idea of not cooking, Ranna Puja places the Bengali kitchen at its centre. The night before is devoted to cooking, cleaning and preparing the offering; the following day is marked by the absence of the fire. What makes it to the table is therefore more than a meal: it is the food of a particular season, prepared as part of a household ritual that connects the kitchen with Manasa worship, while also setting aside a day for the women who run the household kitchen to rest and welcome the new season.
Read More: A Tale of Two Cities: Sohini Banerjee’s Journey Through Bengali Food
Also Read: Inside Arunachal With Thomas Zacharias: Discovering Idu Mishmi Food
