All year long the banyan tree saw its reflection in the little pond. The world beyond was wilderness--at least to us children. You could walk just a little further to reach the Ganesha temple. Usually we walked up a small hillock to reach the temple from inside the colony.
Every year at the appointed time, way past our bed-time, the cries of people and the accompanying drumbeats pulled us outside. The familiar world became new and mysterious in the darkness.
Our Ganesha idol was carried carefully as we joined the growing crowd behind the huge Ganesha from the temple. We also took soaked beaten rice mixed with curd in a steel box.
Many people offered coconuts and bananas to the Elephant God. The priest chanted his farewell prayers and lifted the fragrant camphor brass lamps in circles to the glowing face of the colorful God.
The big Ganesha splashed in first and others followed. We then sat on a cold stone bench and ate the beaten rice with curd. We children cried out,"Ganpat bapa Maourya, pudche varshe laukarya", because my father liked Marathi and we didn't know any grand sounding lines in Kannada. We walked home with friends and neighbors to houses strangely empty. In no time the living room chairs and tables would find their places and the memory of the magical space of flowers, rangoli and fragrance would recede.
Yesterday we watched the traffic jams as devotees burst fire crackers, shouting out from the tractors and pick-up trucks with their decorated huge colored Ganeshas. There are pandals in almost every street corner where they serve the prasad in disposable cups and plates that will litter the roads for months to come. I'm worried like so many others that these painted Gods will contaminate and choke the lakes.
Our plain clay Ganesha was dunked in a bucket. Even as he dissolved instantly, bubbles rose to the surface, giving an impression of a live creature in the water. The muddy water will feed the plants later. There are many like us who resort to this hassle free celebration.
The joy and cheer he brought into our home was unchanged and undiminished by our choice of idol and manner of immersion, and will last for long.
I wish there is a ban on colored POP idols next year. Maybe, actors and sports persons can start an awareness campaign on the television or billboards months before Ganesh Chathurthi (they are the only people who can convince the masses).
Its really time for green immersions.
Every year at the appointed time, way past our bed-time, the cries of people and the accompanying drumbeats pulled us outside. The familiar world became new and mysterious in the darkness.
Our Ganesha idol was carried carefully as we joined the growing crowd behind the huge Ganesha from the temple. We also took soaked beaten rice mixed with curd in a steel box.
Many people offered coconuts and bananas to the Elephant God. The priest chanted his farewell prayers and lifted the fragrant camphor brass lamps in circles to the glowing face of the colorful God.
The big Ganesha splashed in first and others followed. We then sat on a cold stone bench and ate the beaten rice with curd. We children cried out,"Ganpat bapa Maourya, pudche varshe laukarya", because my father liked Marathi and we didn't know any grand sounding lines in Kannada. We walked home with friends and neighbors to houses strangely empty. In no time the living room chairs and tables would find their places and the memory of the magical space of flowers, rangoli and fragrance would recede.
Yesterday we watched the traffic jams as devotees burst fire crackers, shouting out from the tractors and pick-up trucks with their decorated huge colored Ganeshas. There are pandals in almost every street corner where they serve the prasad in disposable cups and plates that will litter the roads for months to come. I'm worried like so many others that these painted Gods will contaminate and choke the lakes.
Our plain clay Ganesha was dunked in a bucket. Even as he dissolved instantly, bubbles rose to the surface, giving an impression of a live creature in the water. The muddy water will feed the plants later. There are many like us who resort to this hassle free celebration.
The joy and cheer he brought into our home was unchanged and undiminished by our choice of idol and manner of immersion, and will last for long.
I wish there is a ban on colored POP idols next year. Maybe, actors and sports persons can start an awareness campaign on the television or billboards months before Ganesh Chathurthi (they are the only people who can convince the masses).
Its really time for green immersions.
