Deveena Shivakoti
Thu, 15 October 2026
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Deveena Shivakoti
Thu, 15 October 2026
For fifteen days, we worship a woman. For fifteen days, we ask other women to serve us. Each year, Dashain comes with its usual enticements: reuniting with family, tika-jamara, good food, new clothes, laughter and, for many, a rare stretch of holidays. It is a festival for goddess Durga, killer of demons, honouring the feminine power for 15 days.
Every Dashain, the scene repeats itself in house after house. The men hold cards fanned out in their hands while the tea is cooling down next to them, the delicious masu chiura awaiting beside them while laughing at something that they heard twenty minutes ago. Whereas the women are busy doing various chores. They cook. They clean. They serve everyone. The sole distinction between today and the other fifteen days is simply the increased number of guests she has to prepare meals for, the larger stack of dishes waiting to be cleaned, and the extended time she must endure before she can finally sit down.
Dashain for men means a break from work and for women, more work, whether holding regular jobs or completely engaged at domestic chores. That difference is so uncomfortable. The festival set to honour a goddess may leave the women of the household little time to celebrate. Women’s labour becomes is taken for granted to such an extent that its significance is barely recognised. The contradiction is even sharper when we think about the regulations that apply to women's bodies.
During menstruation, most households still consider her to be “impure”. She may not be allowed in the kitchen, in religious ceremonies, to touch certain people or be allowed in certain areas. Her body is used to create an unacceptable act of holiness. The rule was never "cleanliness is a must". It was a matter of control, in God's terms, and it was applied only at minimal or zero cost to the house and it was withdrawn at the exact moment it might have been noticed.
But suddenly, it becomes vital when the festival starts, and that same woman's work. Her hands can cook the food that men eat. She can scrub the plates they use with her hands. Her hands can set up the house for their festivities. Her labour can make their Dashain comfortable. If menstruation makes a woman impure, why does her labour remain pure enough to serve everyone? If women are strong enough to be worshipped as a goddess during Dashain, why should they still work throughout the festival to serve others, while the others are having fun?
This is not an argument against Dashain, nor against religion. It is a counter-argument to the selective use of traditions begging for review. Culture doesn't just happen— it's what we select to carry on. But not all homes are alike. There is a high level of family responsibility for many families; a high level of active participation in cooking, cleaning and preparations by many men. This imbalance is common enough that it is easily recognised, though, which ought to make us feel uncomfortable.
Maybe the real question this Dashain is not whether we have worshipped the goddess enough. Perhaps it is whether we have noticed the women standing beside her. Because a festival celebrating feminine strength should not require women to exhaust themselves so that everyone else can enjoy it. Maybe this Dashain, before taking seats around the table and playing cards, eating and visiting relatives, let's ask the woman working from the early morning.
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