
Dipak Kurmi
(The writer can be reached at dipakkurmiglpltd@gmail.com.)
As the October winds sweep across the verdant plains of Assam, a different kind of celebration unfolds in the homes and fields of this northeastern Indian state. Unlike the exuberant festivities that often define harvest seasons across the world, Kati Bihu arrives with a hushed reverence, marking not abundance but anticipation, not plenty but patience. Also known as Kongali Bihu, this festival stands as one of the three major Bihu celebrations in Assamese culture, yet it holds a character entirely distinct from its more jubilant counterparts, Rongali Bihu and Bhogali Bihu. Where those festivals celebrate the beginning of spring and the joy of harvest, respectively, Kati Bihu embodies something more profound: the dignity of scarcity and the unwavering faith that sustains people through difficult times.
The very name Kongali Bihu reveals the essence of this observance. 'Kongali' translates to 'poor' or 'scarcity' in Assamese, reflecting the stark reality faced by farming communities during the month of Kati, which falls in mid-October. This is the vulnerable interlude in the agricultural calendar when the previous harvest has been consumed, granaries stand empty, and the new crops of paddy still grow in the fields, their promise unfulfilled. Families find themselves in a precarious balance, their survival dependent entirely on the health of crops that have yet to mature. It is a time when every household feels the weight of uncertainty, yet responds not with despair but with prayer, not with complaint but with quiet determination.
The agrarian roots of Assamese society run deep, and Kati Bihu serves as a testament to the intimate relationship between the people and their land. Agriculture is not merely an occupation in Assam; it is a way of life, a spiritual practice, and a source of cultural identity. The paddy fields that stretch across the Brahmaputra valley represent more than economic sustenance-they embody generations of knowledge, tradition, and an understanding of natural cycles that has been passed down through centuries. Kati Bihu emerges from this profound connection, offering farmers and their families a moment to acknowledge their dependence on forces beyond their control and to seek blessings for the crops that will determine their fate in the coming months.
Central to the observance of Kati Bihu is the worship of the Tulsi plant, considered sacred in Hindu tradition and revered throughout Indian culture for its purifying properties. In preparation for this festival, Assamese families construct a small earthen altar known as Tulsi Bheti, where a Tulsi plant is ceremonially planted. This simple structure of mud and water becomes a focal point of devotion, transforming the household courtyard into a sacred space. As evening approaches, the family gathers to light earthen lamps called Saaki around the Tulsi plant. These small flames, flickering in the autumn breeze, create an atmosphere of quiet sanctity. The act of lighting these lamps carries deep symbolic meaning-they represent the invitation extended to Goddess Lakshmi, the deity of wealth and prosperity, to enter the home and bestow her blessings upon the household and its fields.
Children play a particularly important role in the rituals of Kati Bihu, their young voices rising in traditional prayers and songs that invoke divine protection for the crops. These prayers, transmitted through generations, connect the youngest members of the community to their agricultural heritage and instil in them an understanding of the cycles that govern rural life. The participation of children ensures that the traditions of Kati Bihu continue to flow forward, carrying with them the values of patience, faith, and respect for nature that define this observance.
Perhaps the most visually striking aspect of Kati Bihu is the tradition of lighting Akash Banti, or sky lamps, in the paddy fields. These special lamps are placed atop tall bamboo poles that rise high above the growing crops, creating a constellation of lights that dot the landscape as darkness falls. The practice serves multiple purposes, weaving together spiritual belief and practical agricultural wisdom in a manner characteristic of traditional knowledge systems. On a spiritual level, these elevated flames are believed to illuminate the path for ancestral spirits, guiding them heavenward and maintaining the connection between the living and the departed. This act of remembrance acknowledges that farming is not merely the work of the present generation but the continuation of a legacy inherited from those who came before.
Simultaneously, the Akash Banti serve a remarkably practical function. The flames attract nocturnal insects that pose a threat to the vulnerable paddy crops, and these pests perish in the fire, thus protecting the fields from damage. This dual-purpose tradition demonstrates the sophisticated understanding that Assamese farmers possess regarding the ecosystem of their fields. It represents the kind of indigenous agricultural knowledge that predates modern pesticides yet remains remarkably effective. The fact that this practical pest control method is clothed in spiritual ritual speaks to the holistic worldview embedded in traditional Assamese culture, where the sacred and the practical are not separate domains but interwoven aspects of daily life.
The simplicity that characterises Kati Bihu distinguishes it sharply from the other Bihu festivals. There are no grand feasts during Kongali Bihu, no elaborate dances, and no exchange of abundant gifts. The season does not permit such extravagance. Instead, families might prepare modest traditional foods like pithas and simple snacks, but these offerings remain humble, acknowledging the limitations imposed by empty granaries. This restraint is not a diminishment of the festival but rather its defining feature. Kati Bihu teaches that celebration need not always be synonymous with abundance, that there is profound meaning to be found in gathering together during times of scarcity to affirm shared values and collective hope.
The solemnity of Kati Bihu reflects a mature understanding of life's cyclical nature. The Assamese farming community recognises that abundance and scarcity follow one another in natural succession, that periods of plenty will inevitably give way to times of want, just as times of hardship precede the return of prosperity. This wisdom prevents complacency during good times and despair during difficult ones. The observance of Kati Bihu institutionalises this understanding, creating a ritual space where the community can acknowledge their present challenges while maintaining faith in future blessings.
Throughout the month of Kati, the earthen lamps continue to burn before the Tulsi plant and in the fields, maintained by families as an ongoing prayer for a successful harvest. This month-long vigil represents an act of sustained faith, a daily reaffirmation of hope even when immediate circumstances offer little comfort. The persistence required to maintain these lamps through the entire month mirrors the persistence required of farmers themselves, who must continue their work despite uncertainty, tending their crops with care even when the outcome remains unknown.
The cultural importance of Kati Bihu extends beyond its agricultural significance. The festival serves as a reminder of values that risk being lost in an increasingly urbanised and commercialised world. In an era that often equates worth with material abundance and celebrates excess as achievement, Kati Bihu offers a counter-narrative. It suggests that there is dignity in scarcity, that patience is a virtue worth cultivating, and that some of life's most important moments occur not during peak experiences but during the quiet intervals of waiting and working toward a goal not yet achieved.
The resilience embodied in Kati Bihu speaks to fundamental human qualities that transcend the specific context of Assamese agriculture. Every person experiences periods of scarcity in some form-times when resources run low, when the fruits of labour remain unrealised, when the future feels uncertain. The response modelled by Kati Bihu-continuing to light lamps, maintaining faith, gathering in community, and honouring traditions-offers guidance for navigating such periods with grace and dignity.
As the lamps flicker in the October darkness and prayers rise from courtyards and fields across Assam, Kati Bihu continues to fulfil its essential function. It connects contemporary Assamese people to their ancestral heritage, maintains the spiritual dimension of agricultural work, strengthens community bonds, and preserves traditional knowledge. More broadly, it reminds us that true celebration encompasses the full range of human experience, including those moments when we have little to give except our hope, our prayers, and our willingness to keep faith with the future. In the quiet observance of Kongali Bihu lies a profound truth: that even when granaries are empty, the human spirit can remain full, sustained by tradition, community, and the enduring belief that brighter days will come with the harvest.
“Happiness, therefore, is measured by the
tranquillity of one’s mind”
— Swami Chinmayananda