Car catches fire on Kolkata's VIP Road near Sreebhumi amid Durga Puja Sashthi

Amid the euphoric swirl of Durga Puja's Sasthi celebrations today afternoon—when Kolkata's streets pulsed with the first rhythmic beats of dhak drums and the air hummed with chants invoking the goddess's arrival—a routine pandal-hopping joyride turned into a heart-stopping inferno on the bustling VIP Road near the iconic Sribhumi pandal. Around 1 PM, as three passengers in a rented four-wheeler savored the festive sights from Lake Town towards Bangur, wisps of smoke began seeping from the air conditioning unit, escalating into roaring flames that threatened to consume the vehicle entirely. The trio—devotees out to pay homage to Devi on this sacred sixth day—leapt to safety just in time, their swift instincts averting tragedy amid the throng of Puja enthusiasts, while fire tenders raced against the clock to douse the blaze and restore calm to a road already choked with cultural revelry and traffic snarls.

The rented car, a nondescript sedan pressed into service for the festival frenzy, had ferried the group—two young women and a male companion—from their homes earlier that morning, its AC humming innocently against the midday heat as they crisscrossed pandals adorned with marigolds and mythology. "We'd been catching that burnt smell for a while, like rubber singeing somewhere close, but we chalked it up to roadside vendors or exhaust from the crowd," recounted one of the women, her voice still laced with the shock of survival, as she stood on the roadside, phone in hand capturing the smoldering wreck. What started as a faint haze from the dashboard vents exploded into visible smoke billowing from the engine bay, prompting an instinctive scramble for the doors. In seconds, the interior was aglow with orange flickers, flames licking at seats and upholstery, forcing the passengers to abandon their belongings and bolt into the arms of startled onlookers.

Eyewitnesses on VIP Road, a artery famed for its mega pandals like Sribhumi's lavish spectacle that draws lakhs annually, described a scene straight out of a nightmare grafted onto the festival's dreamscape. "One moment, it's all laughter and selfies with the goddess's idol peeking through bamboo gates; the next, screams as this car turns into a bonfire right in traffic," said a nearby pandal volunteer, who helped corral the fleeing trio to safety on the median. The road, perpetually gridlocked during Puja hours with autos, taxis, and pedestrian pilgrimages, ground to a near-halt as flames shot skyward, drawing gasps from families mid-processions and vendors hawking sweets. Panic rippled outward, with some mistaking the smoke for a larger electrical fault in the pandal lights, but quick-thinking locals formed a human cordon, keeping the blaze from spreading to adjacent vehicles or the throngs edging the route.

Firefighters from the nearest station arrived within 10 minutes, their siren slicing through the dhunuchi naach melodies, deploying hoses to quench the voracious fire that had already charred the car's front end into a twisted skeleton. As water arcs painted the asphalt in glistening relief. The vehicle, now a husk towed to the roadside, was cordoned off for inspection, its registration traced back to a local rental agency that promised a probe into maintenance lapses. Miraculously, no injuries marred the escape; the women, shaken but steadfast, later rejoined the festivities at a nearby pandal, their ordeal becoming instant lore among the gathered crowds who showered them with tea and tales of similar close calls.For the passengers, the incident was a jarring interlude in what should have been unadulterated bliss—the Sasthi dawn of Devi's bodhon, when homes brim with khichuri feasts and hearts with hope for her nine-night stay. "We didn't even have time to process; one whiff of real danger, and survival mode kicked in," the second young woman shared, her relief palpable as she clutched a salvaged Puja prasad bag. Their rented ride, meant to symbolize mobility in the season of auspicious beginnings, instead underscored the perils lurking in everyday mechanics: overloaded circuits from constant use, perhaps exacerbated by the tropical humidity that turns AC units into ticking time bombs.

Grateful for their guardian angels—or perhaps Maa's timely glance—they vowed to stick to autos henceforth, turning the scare into a story of resilience retold over evening adda. Authorities, ever vigilant during the pujo peak, have ramped up fire patrols and awareness drives, but incidents like this fuel calls for stricter vehicle checks at rental hubs and eco-friendly cooling alternatives. As the sun dipped on that fateful Sasthi, leaving the road slick with foam and festivity unbroken, it served as a sobering sidebar to the goddess's glory: in her light, even flames flicker out, but vigilance must burn eternal.In the aftermath, as the towed car vanished into the twilight and the VIP Road throbbed back to life with sindoor-smeared revelers, the survivors' tale wove into the tapestry of Puja anecdotes—whispered warnings wrapped in wonder. For Kolkata, it's a reminder that amid the divine dance, human frailties flare up unbidden, yet the spirit endures, un singed. The fire's embers cool, but the lesson glows: tune your chariots well, for the road to Devi is lined with both miracles and moments of mortal peril. Onward to Saptami, with hearts fuller, steps surer, and perhaps one less AC blast to bless the journey.