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“We never step on flowers,” said a middle-aged man from Bengaluru’s Thigala community which had gathered inside Cubbon Park to worship Draupadi, the wife of the Pandavas from the Hindu epic Mahabharata. The park is an escape into nature for the residents of India’s Silicon Valley. But during the 11 days of the Bengaluru Karaga festival, it also turns into a sacred portal for the community’s chief goddess.
I got a glimpse of the 800-year-old festival on my first visit to Cubbon Park on March 29, 2026. I went in with a rather straightforward objective of immersing in urban ecology, similar to walking through Lodhi Garden — my favourite experience of living in Delhi. I left with the unforgettable sight of Jacaranda trees in full, purple bloom and a profound testimony of India’s diverse community conservation practices, which underline the intimate relationship between humans and their ecosystem.
At the end of the lane along the park’s State Central Library near the exit gate to Sri Kanteerava stadium, the sound of traditional drums and nadaswaram (a Carnatic wind instrument) attracted my attention towards a large gathering at the southeastern end of the park. About a hundred people had gathered to worship a tree. The honge mara or the Indian beech tree (Pongamia pinnata) is considered to be the host for Draupadi and the process of invoking her begins inside Cubbon Park on the seventh day of the festival with water rituals at a pond on the premises.
Thus, through this ritual, the community protects two important elements of the local ecosystem: The Indian beech which is one of the about 10 per cent tree species that can directly fix atmospheric nitrogen, thus maintaining ecological balance, and the ponds and tanks that form the unique water network of Bengaluru.
By the time I had walked over, they were beginning to distribute the prasaadam (consecrated food) consisting of cooling ingredients for summer such as a refreshing salad of cucumber and lentil (kosambari), buttermilk with a lot of onion and slices of watermelon. There was an immediate sense of being one with nature: Everyone was walking barefoot on wet earth, they had a deep understanding of seasonal cycles and kept track of lunar phases.
The community has been historically recognised for their expertise in agriculture and horticulture. When Hyder Ali and Tipu Sultan were building Bengaluru, they called upon these local farmers to develop a landscaping marvel at the famous tourist spot Lalbagh Botanical Garden. To this day, many of the trusted nurseries outside Lalbagh are run by people from the Thigala community.
Thus, flora is central to every part of this festival. On the sixth day of the festival, women from the community build lamp covers with fragrant jasmine flowers. These lamps lead the way during the night-time processions across the city. The jasmine flowers also adorn the mud pot (karaga) — a vessel symbolising Draupadi's presence — which balances atop the head of the priest who channels her power.
The story of why the Thigala community is among the few who worship Draupadi is layered. The community, recognised in Karnataka’s Other Backward Classes list, self identifies as vanhikula kshatriyas. They fought to protect Draupadi from a demon (Timirasura) who was tormenting her, said Anantha Padmanabha, who was attending the festival as a veerakumara (warrior). “When the Pandavas began their journey towards heaven, Draupadi had fallen behind because she was walking slower. Enchanted by her beauty and finding her alone, the demon Timarasura begins tormenting her. This is when she created the male veerakumaras who valiantly fought and killed Timarasura. So, we consider ourselves as her descendents.” The myth, however, does not make clear the origin of the female members of the community, who observe symbolic widowhood during the period.
As she departed for heaven, the veerakumaras pleaded with her to stay. She promised to return each year for three days during Chaitra Purnima, Padmanabha said.
On the main night of the festival, the Karaga-bearing priest dons a saree and wears sindoor and ornaments to embody Draupadi. Some critics see this as gender exclusion and others as fluidity. However, the uncontested mark of the festival’s fluid nature is the procession’s stop at the Hazrat Tawakkal Mastan Shah Dargah in Shivajinagar, which, especially in these fractured times is celebrated as an emblem of syncreticism and unity. The story goes that roughly 250 years ago, a Sufi saint injured during the procession was healed with turmeric / kumkum (turmeric-lime red mixture) offered by the priests. Since then, the procession stops at the dargah every year. This tradition ties the healing properties of the rhizome intricately to the festival, embedding its ecological importance.