Day 11 of the festival, Ganesh Chaturthi

Juhu beach

Juhu Beach is a long beach.  It is a wide beach, too, especially at low tide.  Usually the beach is crowded with young men playing cricket.  But today is different. This afternoon the beach is crowded with families. Among the families there are the ever present gangs of young men—loud, laughing, their arms draped casually around each other’s shoulders. There are also the beggar children too. They are aggressive.  They paw at you, nimbly skip in front of you so you have to do a strange dance to keep moving forward. They persist until they hear a loud, firm “NEY! NEY!”

Auspicious decay

The first thing I notice as we walk along the beach are the many Ganesha statues that are scattered along the beach.  These are the statues that were immersed on auspicious days 1, 3, 5, 7 and 9. They have washed back on shore with lost limbs. The heavier ones are half buried in craters—treasures sunken in the sand. Sometimes we see a lonely ear, hand, or trunk. 

Who is Ganesha?  He is the elephant god. He is the god of new beginnings and the remover of obstacles. He is my favorite god. He was a mischievous child. He is affectionately called Ganapati Bapa. He’s the kind of god you meet and you like him right away.  You want to invite him to a party and get to know him better. I think he must enjoy this festival very much because it is one big citywide party.

Happy family

Tim and I hear chanting. Families are bringing their Ganapati (Ganesha) statues to the beach to be immersed. The families are kind and open.  They welcome our curious stares. The Ganapatis are adorned with strings of bright beads, pearls, greenery, and flowers. One family invites us into their worship. The dia (a small lamp with ghee) is lit and burning incense is waved as the family says puja (prayers.)  Puffed rice treats with sticky peanut brittle is offered.  Tim eats his and I slyly slip him my handful. Next we are offered the bananas that were laid before Ganesha. The women lovingly remove the ornaments from Ganesha, the men pick him up, and they head for the water. They all go into the water with Ganesha, but the men go farther out.  When they reach chest high, they dip Ganesha three times and on the third dip, they push him out to sea—released into the water. 

More statues are arriving. These statues are larger.  They are carried by groups of loud, raucous  men. The men are wearing t-shirts stained with red powder. One man shouts “Ganapati Bapa!”  The crowd shouts in reply, “Moria!”  We join in. “Moria!” we shout with enthusiasm as the chant begins with “Ganapati Bapa!”  This statue is 7 feet high.  The men are weighed down by its massive orange body, but it does not dampen their spirits. They are honoring Ganesha with their enthusiasm and volume. 

By 7:00, Tim and I decide it is time to go home.  The beach is getting more and more crowded.  The mood is changing from a family atmosphere to Mardi Gras. The road we came on has been changed from a two way street into one way towards the beach. Huge lorries carrying even bigger Ganapati statues, plus men and boys sitting, standing, hanging on are lumbering towards the beach.  Something hits my face.  It stings.  It is only flowers, but they were thrown with force.  It is time to go home.

Tim starts walking with purpose.  He is parting the Red Sea of people by the size of his body. We become separated. I try to push forward too.  I look anxiously for Tim.  How did he get to the other side of the street? I shout for him to stop, but he doesn’t hear me. Finally, he stops and looks for me.  When I reach him, I cling to his backpack like a little child. We find a lighted corner near a policeman and wait for Rakesh to find us.

When we see his car, we dive into the coolness, safety, and peace. Our tiny capsule of calm crawls forward.  People walking, motorcycles, trucks are inches from my face. I watch them through the glass. I see a truck that is decorated with palm branches. My mind wanders . . . Palm branches in a parade.  A ride to Jerusalem with a chorus of “Hallelujah!”  and people waving palm branches. A ride to the beach on lorries decorated with palm branches with a chorus of “Moria!” Baptism— immersion in water. A symbol of new life. Ganesh Chaturthi— a festival with immersion. A symbol of creation and rebirth.  All around the world hymns are sung, prayers are said, and holy people are present.  Ganapati Bapa moria! 

Leap of Faith - Ganesh Chaturthi Observation #3

Artist prepares for the festival.

For two weeks, Tim and I roamed the streets behind our school observing the Ganesh statues in progress of being painted, gilded, and readied for the big day—the day Ganesh is brought home. One street, in particular, had aisles of Ganeshes (all sizes, colors, and styles) being prepared for the big day. Tonight, as we revisit our favorite haunts, the Ganeshes are gone.  The aisles are bare. Today, while I was at school, the Ganeshes traveled to communities in large trucks where members of the community pitched in together to welcome home a large Ganesh, or traveled to homes where the welcome is much more intimate.

Tim, Maggie (our lovely new English friend) and I walk down the street between our school and our apartments. We walk towards Maggie’s apartment, following the scraps of red paper from the firecrackers and the bright raspberry colored powder on the road.  Across the street from Maggie’s apartment is a complex of apartments. We can see a tent like structure.  We enter the gate and walk behind the fence. We ask if we can enter the makeshift temple. The men are welcoming. We slip off our shoes and enter. Inside is a large Ganesh.  Around him are offering of fruit—coconut, apples, and bananas.  In the front of the large Ganesh is another Ganesh, much smaller, but decked with a necklace of marigolds. In the front of the stage is an unpeeled banana with many sticks of incense stuck in the banana. After we view the Ganesh, we cause a rush of photography lusting kids once Maggie starts taking pictures. Kids call out “Here I am!” and “ ‘Ello auntie” 

Children love to have their photos taken.

We continue down the road, turn into another neighborhood.

A quieter neighborhood.

  

We hear loud, but happy, music blaring from speakers.  We are drawn down the side street.  The Ganesh worship is lit up with orange lights. Small children sit on red plastic chairs.We are drawn to this make shift alter because of its simplicity. We take off our shoes and enter.  We see a Ganesh that has offering of fruit, coconut.  An unpeeled banana is lying on its side skewered with incense sticks. The sticks send fragrant smoke up to the heavens. We stand admiring the Ganesh when a man, standing quietly at the side, approaches us. His kindness draws us toward the alter. He has a small brass dish that contains a bright orange powder.  He says some words that I am sure are a prayer.  He touches the powder with his little finger and places a dot on our foreheads. Another person begins to wrap Tim’s wrist with red, green, and white thread as the man murmurs a prayer.  I am sure that it is a blessing. The string is cut and I experience the same ritual.
The man then reaches over to Geneshe’s alter, takes two sweets in his hand.  He offers one to Tim and one to me. Instinctively, I hold out both of my hands. My hands are together, palms up, ready to receive the gift. The man places the sweet candy in my hands. A gift. A request to Ganesh that he brings sweetness to my life. Tim eats the candy. I am jolted back to my western mind.  Is this candy safe to eat?  Will I get sick? What germs might this candy contain? I slip the wish for happiness in my pocket. Later, walking home, my fingers find this little wish for happiness in my pocket.  Will I take a leap of faith?  Will I eat the candy handed to me? I toss the candy on the road towards the curb. I am not ready to take that leap of faith.  I am drawn to new beginnings, I am drawn to kindness and blessings, I was not ready for that leap of faith.