(Re-)Thinking on the Debate of Greeting on the Mahālayā

    Each year in the season of autumn, as the dark fortnight of Pitṛpakṣa wanes and the luminous Devīpakṣa begins, Mahālayā arrives— not merely as a calendrical marker, but as a profound civilizational moment. In the Indic tradition, this day is a confluence of remembrance and invocation: we honour our pitṛs (ancestors) and simultaneously prepare to welcome Devī Durgā, the embodiment of śakti and the cosmic order.

    Yet, in recent years, debates have emerged, particularly on social media, questioning whether Mahālayā can be greeted as śubha (auspicious). Is it appropriate to celebrate a day associated with ancestral rites? Or does such celebration dilute the solemnity of death? To answer this, we must look beyond the surface and explore how different civilizations approach death, memory, and the ethics of honoring those who came before. In doing so, we uncover the unique dhārmika sensibility that makes Mahālayā not only śubha, but also spiritually luminous.

Remembering the Dead: Across Different Cultures

    Across civilizations, the act of remembering the dead is not merely a cultural ritual, but it is a sacred gesture that affirms continuity, expresses gratitude, and anchors identity. It is through remembrance that societies maintain a living connection with their past, honouring those whose lives shaped the present.

    In Mexico, Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) transforms cemeteries into vibrant spaces of music, food, and familial bonding. Altars adorned with marigolds, sugar skulls, and favourite foods of the departed reflect a worldview where the dead are not mourned but joyfully welcomed. The veil between worlds is seen as porous, and memory becomes celebration.

    In Japan, the Buddhist festival of Obon similarly bridges realms. Lanterns are lit to guide ancestral spirits navigate their celestial home, and dances like Bon Odori express reverence through communal joy. The ritual is not solemn, but rather it is rhythmic, luminous, and filled with grace.

    China’s Qīngmíng Jié (Tomb-Sweeping Day) involves cleaning ancestral graves and offering food, symbolizing what they call ‘xiào’ or filial piety. It also marks the seasonal renewal. Here, if we closely observe, remembrance is tied to both ethical duty as well as a natural rhythm.

    Known as Samhain, the Celtic Pagan festival marked the end of the summer and the beginning of the winter. This Pagan festival is special as it observes that during that particular time (which is also regarded as the Celtic New Year) the veil between the living and the dead becomes thin, enabling the departed souls to communicate with their progeny. In later years, the festival was absorbed into the Christian tradition across Europe under the nomenclature of the ‘All Souls’ Day’ which also commemorates the departed with prayers and masses, often in sombre tones.

Mahālayā: Between Laya and Āgama

    What unites the abovementioned traditions is the ethical imperative to remember. But, what distinguishes the Indic tradition of the Mahālayā is its metaphysical depth. In the Sanātana Dharma, remembrance is not merely emotional, it is also ontological. The pitṛs are not absent: they dwell in subtle realms (pitṛloka), and their blessings shape the trajectory of the living ancestors. To honour them is to participate in a cosmic cycle of gratitude and spiritual continuity of dharma.

    The word Mahālayā itself is layered with multifarious meaning. In Sanskrit, ‘mahā’ denotes greatness, and ‘ālaya’ means abode. But ‘laya’ also signifies dissolution, especially into the Parabrahman, the Supreme Consciousness. It is, in essence, a moment of mokṣa. Simultaneously, Mahālayā heralds the arrival (āgama) of the Goddess. In Bengal, this is marked by the iconic recitation of Mahīśāsura Mardinī, composed by Pankaj Kumar Mallik and immortalized by Birendra Krishna Bhadra. The air vibrates with chants of “yā devī sarvabhūteṣu” and the collective psyche shifts from mourning to invocation. This duality of dissolution and descent is uniquely Indic. It reflects the ṛta (cosmic order) where death and life are not opposites, but phases of the same cycle. To greet Mahālayā as śubha is to honour this sacred rhythm.

Let’s Dive into the Indic Liturgy

    Critics often argue, asking: “Do we say śubha śrāddha while attending a funeral rituals for the departed?” The implication is that death is inauspicious, and therefore any associated ritual must be solemn, not celebratory. But this view is both linguistically and philosophically flawed. The word ‘śrāddha’ derives from ‘śraddhā’ (faith, reverence) with an addition of the suffix ‘aṇ’, forming a noun that means “an act of reverence.” It is not a mourning ritual, rather more of a dhārmika obligation, a karma that sustains the lineage and honours the pitṛs. In fact, the Manusmṛti (3.203) states:

दैवकार्याद् द्विजातीनां पितृकार्यं विशिष्यते।
दैवं हि पितृकार्यस्य पूर्वमाप्यायनं स्मृतम्॥
daivakāryād dvijātīnām pitṛkāryaṃ viśiṣyate |
daivaṃ hi pitṛkāryasya pūrvamāpyāyanaṃ smṛtam ||
[Among twice-born men, the rite in honour of the pitṛs is superior to that in honour of the devas; the rite for the devas is considered a preliminary sustainer of the rite for the pitṛs.]

At the same time, in the Bhagavad Gītā (2.20), Śrī Kṛṣṇa declares:

न जायते म्रियते वा कदाचिन्

नायं भूत्वा भविता वा न भूयः ।
अजो नित्यः शाश्वतोऽयं पुराणो

न हन्यते हन्यमाने शरीरे ॥

na jāyate mriyate vā kadācin

nāyaṃ bhūtvā bhavitā vā na bhūyaḥ |
ajo nityaḥ śāśvato'yaṃ purāṇo

na hanyate hanyamāne śarīre ||

[The soul neither takes birth nor does it die, nor is it affected by the repeated growth and dwindling of the body. It is unborn, eternal and ever-existing. Though primeval, it remains ever-youthful. The soul is not annihilated even when the body perishes.]

    Death, in this view, is not an end, but rather it is a mere transition. For yogīs and realized beings, it is the moment of samādhi, of merging with the Absolute. Saints like Rāmakṛṣṇa Paramahaṁsa and Ramana Maharṣi embraced death as the ‘mahāsamādhi’, a culmination of their spiritual journey. Thus, to call Mahālayā as ‘śubha’ is not to trivialize death, rather it is to recognize its sacredness.

Greeting the Goddess, Honouring the Ancestors

    To greet Mahālayā as ‘śubha’ is to affirm the dhārmika worldview where death is not negation, but transformation. It is to honor the pitṛs who shaped our lives, and to welcome the Devī who restores cosmic balance. It is to recognize that remembrance and invocation are not contradictory, rather they are complementary. In a time when civilizational memory is under threat, and dharmic rituals are reduced to superstition or sentimentality, we must reclaim the philosophical depth of our traditions. Mahālayā is not just a day of observance, it is a mirror of our metaphysics, our aesthetics, and our ethics. So let us say it without hesitation, and with full reverence: Śubha Mahālayā!

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