From the Ghats to the Global Stage: How Chhath Puja Became a Worldwide Celebration

As the first rays of the sun touch the horizon, the calm of dawn breaks into soft Bhojpuri songs, the rustle of sarees, and the scent of freshly made thekua. For centuries, this sight belonged to the ghats of Bihar and eastern Uttar Pradesh. But today, the same chants of “Chhathi Maiya ki jai!” echo along the banks of the Thames in London, the Hudson in New York, and even artificial ponds in Dubai.
Chhath Puja, once seen as a regional festival rooted in the heartland of India, has quietly transcended geography. It’s no longer confined to the Ganga’s banks — it’s a global celebration of faith, discipline, and the timeless bond between humanity and the sun.

The history of Chhath Puja dates back thousands of years. References to sun worship appear in the Rigveda, where devotees offered prayers to Surya Dev for health and prosperity. The ritual of standing in water and offering arghya (water oblation) at sunrise and sunset is one of India’s oldest surviving traditions.
The legend of Chhathi Maiya, believed to be the sister of the Sun God, adds another layer of devotion. She’s seen as a symbol of fertility, purity, and protection. Ancient texts suggest that Draupadi and Karna both observed sun worship, linking the festival to the Mahabharata era.For generations, the tradition passed quietly from mother to daughter — without any written scripture or formal institution. Its preservation relied purely on memory, emotion, and an unbroken chain of faith.

When people from Bihar, Jharkhand, and eastern UP migrated for jobs or studies, they carried more than luggage , they carried rituals. In the 1970s and 80s, as economic migration to metropolitan cities increased, small groups of migrants began organizing community Chhath celebrations in Delhi and Mumbai.
The movement soon went global. By the 1990s, Chhath was being celebrated in Mauritius, Fiji, Nepal, and Trinidad , all homes to Indo-Caribbean and Bhojpuri-speaking communities whose ancestors were taken there as indentured laborers during colonial times.
For them, Chhath wasn’t just a festival , it was a way to reconnect with their roots. The same soop, kachni sarees, and bamboo baskets crossed oceans, reminding every generation where they came from.


In recent years, the visuals of Chhath celebrations abroad have gone viral. In London, devotees gather along the Thames, singing traditional Bhojpuri hymns as the skyline glows behind them. The City of London even provides special permission for Chhath rituals, recognizing its cultural importance.
In New York, the Hudson River sees hundreds of NRIs standing waist-deep in icy water every year. Despite the biting cold, they fast for 36 hours — without food or water — just like their ancestors did back home.
Dubai, with its massive Bihari and UP diaspora, organizes grand Chhath gatherings in community parks and artificial lakes. Organizers there even import soop and thekua ingredients from India to maintain authenticity.
From Melbourne’s Yarra River to Toronto’s Mississauga Lake, the global Chhath community has turned public spaces into emotional ghats — proof that devotion doesn’t need a homeland, only heart.

The beauty of Chhath lies in its simplicity — and yet, it has adapted gracefully to modern times. Urban devotees, unable to access natural water bodies, have started rooftop or balcony Chhath rituals using clean tubs or makeshift pools. Social media, especially Instagram and YouTube, now play a huge role in connecting global devotees.
Live-streamed arghya ceremonies allow families in Patna to watch their relatives performing Chhath in Canada. Influencers post traditional recipes and songs, while NGOs promote eco-friendly practices.
Even Bollywood, once indifferent, now celebrates it with grandeur. Songs like “Kaanch Hi Baans Ke Bahangiya” have become cultural bridges, resonating far beyond the Hindi heartland.


What makes Chhath unique is its matriarchal essence. Unlike most Hindu festivals led by priests or men, Chhath Puja is driven by women — the vratins. Their discipline, self-control, and devotion define the festival’s soul.
These women fast for 36 hours without food or water, prepare every offering themselves, and maintain complete purity of mind and home. Abroad, this tradition has inspired younger women who balance corporate jobs and motherhood to keep it alive — not out of compulsion, but pride.
As 28-year-old Priya Singh, a London-based finance professional, once told a BBC reporter, “When I stand in the Thames with my mother, I don’t feel far from home. The river feels like the Ganga, and the sun feels like it’s rising in Bihar.”

Beyond religion, Chhath Puja has become a symbol of cultural identity. For the Indian diaspora, celebrating it is a way of asserting who they are in multicultural societies.
Local authorities in countries like the UK, UAE, and the US have started supporting these celebrations, providing spaces and safety measures for devotees. The Indian government, too, recognizes Chhath as a powerful soft-cultural export — an example of how traditions strengthen global Indian identity.
Even non-Indians have begun participating out of curiosity and respect, turning Chhath into an intercultural dialogue.


At its heart, Chhath Puja is about gratitude — to the Sun, to nature, and to life itself. It teaches balance, discipline, and environmental respect long before “sustainability” became a buzzword.
Standing in water, facing the rising sun, every devotee — whether in Patna or Paris — experiences the same silence, the same surrender, and the same connection with something larger than themselves.
That’s what makes Chhath more than a ritual. It’s a reminder that while faith may have regional roots, its light knows no borders.