What to carry

Water, a full bottle, refilled whenever you can. Cash in small notes — many street stalls take UPI, and the network near a big puja frequently does not cooperate. A power bank and a short cable. Wet wipes and hand sanitiser. A thin cotton scarf, which is shade, sweat towel and dust mask depending on the hour.

Any medication you take, plus paracetamol and something for an upset stomach. A paper note in your pocket with a phone number on it, in case your phone is what goes wrong.

Small, across the body, zipped, worn in front in a crowd. A backpack is worse on both counts: it takes space you do not have in a queue, and you cannot see it.

Leave anything you would be upset to lose at home. Pujo crowds are overwhelmingly good-natured and pickpockets still work them, particularly in a slow-moving line.

A second pair of socks. A folding fan, which sounds ridiculous until Ashtami night. Ear defenders if you are with a small child. A plastic bag for a wet umbrella. And a printed or offline copy of where you are going, for when the network gives up.

A large camera bag, unless photography is the actual purpose of the evening. A backpack full of things you might want. Anything valuable, anything irreplaceable, and any shoe you would be upset to see walk off from a pandal entrance.

An umbrella, arguably. In a dense crowd an umbrella is a hazard at eye level and does very little for you; a thin poncho folds into a pocket and works better.

Split the day rather than the bag. Go out in the morning with almost nothing, come back, and go out again in the evening with the full list. Carrying a day pack for fourteen hours is its own kind of tiring and there is nowhere to put it down.

If you cannot come back, most large stations and some malls have cloakrooms, and a hotel will hold a bag for a guest. Plan that before you set out rather than at nine at night with a rucksack in a queue.