Read this before travelling to West Bengal

Among the northern states of India, West Bengal stands out for its distinct culture and lifestyle. With a rich historical legacy, particularly from the British era, its heritage continues to shape the traditions and way of life of its people. As the fourth most populous state in India, West Bengal faces challenges, including cleanliness issues, especially given its proximity to Bangladesh, which is often ranked among the least clean nations. The state’s struggles with governance and limited industrial growth have made upward economic mobility difficult for many, keeping a large portion of the population within the middle-class bracket.

However, this has not dampened the spirit of the people. Unlike in many other states, West Bengal’s residents embrace a more laid-back, family-oriented lifestyle, fostering strong community bonds and a deep love for their state. What sets West Bengal apart even further is its cultural unity. Despite being home to a diverse mix of Hindus and Muslims, culture often takes precedence over religious differences, bringing people together rather than dividing them.

In terms of hospitality, I found West Bengal to be one of the most welcoming states in India, second only to Kashmir and Sikkim during my travels. This article is a reflection of my experiences during my nearly month-long stay in the state. While I acknowledge that my observations may carry inherent biases based on my mode of travel and personal perspectives, I invite you to read through and share your own insights if you see things differently.

Demography

West Bengal can broadly be divided into two regions: the northern and southern parts. While the language, traditions, and customs remain largely the same across the state, notable differences exist in geography, lifestyle, and food habits. The northern region, which includes Siliguri, Kalimpong, and Darjeeling, is a hilly terrain adorned with lush tea estates and rich natural beauty. It borders several Indian states and neighboring countries, including Nepal, Sikkim, Bhutan, Assam, Bangladesh, and Bihar, making it a major tourist attraction. In contrast, the southern part of the state lies in the plains and has a more urbanized and densely populated landscape.

Despite these geographical differences, West Bengal’s population is diverse, with a mix of Bengali Hindus, Bengali Muslims, Biharis, and Marwaris. The Marwaris, now in their second and third generations, continue to run family-established FMCG businesses, primarily in trade hubs like Siliguri and Kolkata. Though many speak Bengali fluently, they remain somewhat distanced from the artistic and cultural richness that defines Bengali Hindu society.

Similarly, West Bengal’s proximity to Bihar has led to a significant Bihari presence in the state, particularly in small businesses and government jobs. However, this community, like the Marwaris, remains culturally distinct from the original Bengali inhabitants. The native Bengali population, in contrast, tends to lead a more laid-back lifestyle, often settling for lower-paying jobs and embracing a simple life marked by contentment rather than ambition.

This cultural contrast has led to differing perspectives on progress and development. Many Marwari business owners express frustration over what they perceive as the locals’ reluctance to adapt to modernization, often describing them as being stuck in the past. On the other hand, Bengali locals take pride in their traditions, prioritizing cultural preservation and a balanced life over aggressive economic growth. This dynamic creates an interesting blend of tradition and commerce, making West Bengal a unique and complex cultural landscape.

People

After speaking with both locals and outsiders in West Bengal, I repeatedly heard a common sentiment—that the state’s deep-rooted communist mentality has hindered its progress. Many pointed out that while Bengali Hindus take immense pride in their rich cultural heritage and artistic traditions, they are often perceived as lacking ambition, preferring a relaxed lifestyle over a fast-paced, work-driven one. The concept of *addabazi*—gathering in public spaces for long discussions and gossip—is deeply ingrained in Bengali culture. This was evident throughout my travels, especially in the evenings, when groups of elderly men would sit with cups of tea, engaging in endless conversations on a wide range of topics. These discussions, though intellectually stimulating, often led nowhere in terms of action, yet provided immense personal satisfaction.

A general observation was that many Bengalis seemed to have a lower drive for material success compared to other parts of India. They value intellectual and cultural pursuits more than economic growth, which sometimes results in a laid-back approach to work.

Bengali Muslims, on the other hand, occupy the lowest stratum of the socio-economic hierarchy in the state, with lower literacy rates and limited access to opportunities. Many work as unskilled laborers, particularly in garages and small trades. I was often told that this community plays a significant role in vote-bank politics, allegedly leveraged by the ruling Trinamool Congress (TMC). However, my personal experience with Bengali Muslims was quite different. During my travels, I stayed with many Muslim families and found them to be just as warm, hospitable, and educated as their Hindu counterparts. In fact, for the first time in India, I struggled to distinguish between the two communities, as cultural similarities seemed to overshadow religious differences.

One consistent trait I noticed across all of West Bengal was the locals’ deep love for their language and culture. Bengalis take immense pride in their historical achievements in arts and literature and frequently reference their past glories. Their attachment to their roots runs so deep that leaving Bengal is often emotionally difficult, as family and place mean everything to them. However, this insular outlook also leads to self-undervaluation, as many have not been exposed to the outside world or its opportunities. This results in a tendency to settle for low-paying jobs rather than seeking better prospects elsewhere.

That being said, this same attitude also fosters a unique sense of camaraderie and community. Bengalis genuinely celebrate each other’s successes, as well as the achievements of outsiders who embrace their culture. Their hospitality is remarkable—if you show them love and respect, they will accept you as one of their own, making you feel like a true Bengali. Moreover, their willingness to help others is unparalleled; they will even put aside their own work if someone is in need. This deep-seated warmth and generosity make Bengal not just a place, but an experience unlike any other.

lifestyle

From my conversations with locals and observations across West Bengal, the widespread poverty was hard to ignore. Despite being one of the most culturally rich and warm-hearted states in India, it remains one of the most laid-back, where a deep attachment to tradition seems to have come at the expense of economic progress. It’s a stark reminder that one rarely gets the best of both worlds.

The lack of modernization is evident everywhere. Bicycles are a primary mode of transport, even in Tier-1 cities, and cycle rickshaws remain a common sight. Women cycling to work is a frequent scene, and in many areas, rickshaws far outnumber cars. Nearly every household owns at least one bicycle, which is shared among family members for daily commuting. Many shops, even in urban centers, still operate on a cash-only basis, with digital payments yet to become mainstream.

Food in West Bengal is among the cheapest in India, making daily sustenance affordable, but the state struggles with cleanliness, and noise pollution is overwhelming. Interestingly, while chewing paan is a widespread habit across much of North India, including Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, it is far less common among native Bengalis. Instead, smoking beedis and cigarettes is more prevalent, with many locals indulging in the habit. The majority of paan chewers I came across were migrants from Bihar.

One fascinating cultural aspect unique to Bengal is its obsession with lottery tickets. Lottery stalls are everywhere, and the practice is not just popular but officially run by the state government. It was impossible to travel through the state without noticing people eagerly buying tickets, hoping for a stroke of luck.

West Bengal is a place of contrasts—deeply rooted in its past, rich in culture, yet struggling with economic stagnation. While its charm lies in its simplicity, warmth, and artistic heritage, the slow pace of progress is unmistakable.

Culture

Before entering West Bengal, I had a fair understanding of its deep cultural and artistic inclinations. However, it was only after spending time there that I truly grasped how profoundly culture shapes the everyday lives of its people.

During the partition of East and West Pakistan, the imposition of the Arabic language played a significant role in the eventual creation of present-day Bangladesh. The fact that Bengali remains the national language of Bangladesh today is a testament to how fiercely Bengalis love and protect their linguistic heritage. In my experience, Bengali is a language that allows for the most poetic and romantic expressions of emotion. This romanticism is reflected not just in their words but in their way of life—Bengalis are constantly romancing their past, their art, their women, and their culture. This deep-rooted love for one another and for their heritage is what makes West Bengal so unique.

Rabindranath Tagore famously remarked that Bengalis believe everyone else is, in some way, a Bengali. He did not refer to them as Indians but specifically as Bengalis, illustrating the depth of cultural pride that defines this community. Upon reaching Santiniketan, it became clear that this place is the true cultural heart of India—a living embodiment of Tagore’s vision for an ideal society. It is not merely a town with a strong cultural identity but a place where Tagore’s philosophy is deeply ingrained in the mindset of its people, infused with a quiet spirituality. His dream of creating a utopian community is evident in the warmth and harmony that define life in Santiniketan.

The town has nurtured some of India’s greatest minds, including Nobel laureate Amartya Sen, who studied at Visva-Bharati University and continues to live there, choosing it over any other place in the world. Even those who have moved abroad often maintain ties to Santiniketan, unwilling to sever their connection to the place. The atmosphere here remains untouched by politics or religious divides, with an emphasis on fundamental sciences, arts, and culture. Children here grow up seeing their school as their playground, naturally drawn to education as a way of life rather than an imposed structure. Visva-Bharati University stands as a rare institution where students can begin their journey in the first grade, continue through higher education, and eventually become faculty members, dedicating their lives to this unique intellectual and cultural ecosystem. Santiniketan is not just a place—it is an ideology in motion.

Across West Bengal, the saying “Maachhe Bhate Bangali” (meaning “fish and rice make a Bengali”) perfectly encapsulates the essence of their identity. Their passion, romanticism, and deep appreciation for life are unlike anything one might find elsewhere in India. I came across a line from a poem by Basab Tagore, the grandson of Rabindranath Tagore, which beautifully captures the Bengali spirit: “When a Bengali breathes his last, he seeks neither profit nor wishes to cause inconvenience to anyone.” This quiet, poetic resignation to life’s beauty and its inevitable end is, perhaps, the purest expression of what it means to be a Bengali.

Government

Despite all the wonderful things about Bengal, its poor governance overshadows them. It seems as though Mamata Banerjee has understood the psyche of the people and has tailored her governance accordingly—like an old, tattered garment that the locals have grown used to wearing, unable to replace it with something better. Given that Bengalis generally prefer a simple lifestyle, the TMC government has played on this by offering just enough freebies to keep them content while simultaneously stripping away opportunities that could lead to a better quality of life. From my perspective, this administration appears to be one of the most corrupt in the country.

While Bengalis love discussing politics, their discourse rarely translates into action. Illegal immigration remains a persistent issue, one that could not continue without involvement from higher-ups in the government. Many immigrants from Bangladesh not only settle in West Bengal with ease but also manage to obtain official documents that even some local Bengalis lack.

The culture of government handouts is extensive. Every woman over 25 in a household receives ₹1,200 per month. Widows receive pensions, and students who pass their 10th-grade exams are granted ₹10,000 to buy a mobile phone for their studies. Every Class 9 student gets a bicycle, and female students above 18 receive ₹25,000 in aid. Completing a degree earns a scholarship of ₹50,000, while farmers receive ₹5,000 every six months for each plot of land they own. Bachelor’s and master’s students receive between ₹12,000 and ₹30,000 annually. Yet, despite all these benefits, unemployment remains rampant due to the absence of sufficient job opportunities.

Kolkata’s IT sector offers significantly lower wages than other parts of the country. Moreover, state service exams do not mandate Bengali as a language requirement, leading to a growing presence of Biharis and UP residents in government jobs—often outnumbering the locals. Some claim that the increasing influence of Hindi in the state is a strategic move by Mamata Banerjee to consolidate her political control. The influx of non-Bengali government employees has turned into a reliable vote bank, while the number of job vacancies continues to shrink. The locals, known as Shohishno Bengali (tolerant Bengalis), seem to bear it all without protest—a trait that appears to be exploited by the ruling party. Instead of empowering the people, subsidies have only deepened their dependency, trapping them in a cycle of poverty.

In 2014, a policy was introduced to promote literacy by ensuring that all students up to the 10th grade pass without examinations. However, rather than improving education quality, as was claimed, this move has led to a decline in academic standards. Many students skip school altogether, growing increasingly disengaged from learning. During my travels, I observed a large number of young people glued to their phones, playing games, with little awareness of their future prospects.

Bureaucracy has made it difficult for industries to survive. The infamous exit of Tata from West Bengal, when the Nano project was forced out, is a glaring example. Politics is deeply embedded in every aspect of public life, evident in the poor condition of roads, drainage systems, and the inefficiency of government institutions meant to serve the public.

My time in West Bengal was an eye-opener. It reinforced the idea that no single entity—the people or the government—can be blamed entirely. Governance is a reflection of society, and a government often gives its people exactly what they demand or allow. It was disheartening to see skilled individuals with potential but no direction being left behind.

If my perspective does not align with yours, I welcome your insights. Share your thoughts in the comments, and if you found this article engaging, explore more on this page.