• Welcoming Lord Ganesh

                                                             

    Somethings are just meant to be. Last week a friend of mine sent me this beautiful verse from the Quran :

    “Be patient and strive with constancy and perseverance
    For all suffering and sorrow as well as
    All bounties proceed from God, Whose plan
    Is righteous and for the good of His creatures”.

    How do these words connect with Lord Ganesh?

    Well, it’s a long story.

    When I was a little girl, I remember walking up to the stalls near  Bandra lake to pick up a tiny clay idol to bring back home to my granny’s house. That tiny space had Ganeshas of all sizes perched on shelves, waiting to be picked up by worshippers like us. There were some people,my mother told me who brought Him home every year as part of family tradition and those people had the very same idol made year after year! But ours was meant to be just for  us, to initiate and familiarise us with our rites and traditions and my brother and I were allowed to chose the idol that we liked the most.  We made a tiny procession my brother, mother, granny and I walking home solemnly with a garishly coloured Lord Ganesh. My mother maintained this “tradition”  till as long as we could manage it and I felt sorry that our family didn’t have its own Ganesha to worship.   Even though my granny did the puja every day, the fragrance of agarbatti and camphor,the warm glow of the lamp , the clanging of the cymbals, the ringing of the bell and the chants that we joyously sang seemed extra special at this time of year. I had always wanted to re-create this atmosphere in my own home and was overjoyed when Hubby Dear came home one day with a silver Ganesh idol that someone had gifted him! And what a magnificent Ganesh He was, sitting grandly under a carved silver canopy just waiting to be revered on Ganesh Chaturthi. My wish came true that year with the Lord walking right into my home.

    My little girls were as thrilled as I was seeing this glorious gift and we celebrated Ganesh Chaturthi that year with special enthusiasm . For around ten years we kept Lord Ganesh outside in the living room for all the ten days of the festival, each day decorating His corner with flowers and rangoli designs. We sang prayers and we lit lamps and when all the Ganeshas slipped back into the sea, we put ours back in the cupboard to be brought out again the next year.

    Our ten day festival shrank to 1 1/2 days as the girls got more involved with their lives but our enthusiasm did not diminish. However, this year with the house left with just us Golden Oldies with bad backs weighed down with memories I was debating whether or not to install him in our living room…..Festivals don’t seem that festive without children running around, invigorating the house with their energy and presence.

    But obviously God had other plans because by last evening I somehow found myself cleaning up the house, bringing out the idol, buying garlands and flowers to welcome Him home.

    Ganpati Bappa Morya!

     

  • Touch Me Not

    “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Mumbai’s Chhatrapati Shivaji International Airport”, the air hostess’ voice crackled over the PA system and Erasmus Otiende shifted impatiently in his seat. He was a large man and the seat was far too small for him. And eight hours was a long time. He hated traveling but unfortunately his job demanded it. This was the first time he was coming to India and was quite looking forward to it. Back home in Nairobi he was familiar with Indians. He had also seen the odd Hindi movie with Mr. Shah, his boss so he wasn’t worried about his first visit to Mumbai.

    He smiled at the diminutive air hostess who had her hands folded in the traditional  ‘Namaste‘ and acknowledged her greeting with a nod. Suddenly he was hit by a strange smell that he’d never smelt before – ah that must be the Mumbai smell I’ve heard about, he thought as he began to mop the beads of sweat that mysteriously appeared on his head. Mumbai was hot and muggy, quite unlike Nairobi, he thought as he made his way out of the airport.

    A smartly uniformed man was holding a placard with his name. Good, thought Otiende, “I’m glad I’m being met at the airport.

    Salaam saab” said driver who saluted sharply and reached forward to grab the bag. Otiende sighed in contentment – that was the life. He settled into the plush back seat of his air conditioned taxi and watched the city go by. Mumbai was a blur of lights and traffic and people even at this late hour! He had never seen so many people in all his life and this was when the city was supposed to be asleep. He shuddered to think what it would be like in the day!

    Salaam saab,” said the door keeper of the hotel as he held open the car door for Otiende to step out. Inside the hotel he was again greeted by a Namaste and Otiende wondered if Indians ever shook hands in greeting.

    The next morning, he got dressed and waited for his man in India to fetch him. He was told that he’d be escorted to the corporate office which was at the other end of town. When he reached the lobby, Sanjiv Shah was waiting for him. He held out his hand and Sanjiv reciprocated with a firm handshake. ” Good morning, Sir,” he said, “Welcome to Mumbai!”

    “Ah! Finally,” said Otiende his face breaking into a warm grin. ” I was beginning to wonder whether you Indians ever touched one another at all! And to think there are so many of you? How did that happen?”

    Sanjiv simpered in agreement. He was used to foreigners reacting like that. Most business travellers expected a shake hand in greeting and were quite thrown by the Namaste or Salaam. “No worries,” he explained, ” You’ll get enough handshakes in the office!”

    On the long drive into the city, Sanjiv briefed Otiende about the city, the sights and the people. From time to time Otiende shook his head in disbelief. He also quite freely put his index finger into his nostrils and dug deep into its crevices. At first Sanjiv thought he was seeing things but again that huge big finger went slowly upwards and dug into the nostril.  Sanjiv was horrified at this but managed to hide his discomfort. Every time Otiende dug into his nose, Sanjiv politely turned away and wondered if he’d shaken the very same hand that had excavated the nose! He actually began to break into a sweat. How could he warn his colleagues not to shake the hand of Mr. Otiende? Luckily the phone rang and Sanjiv answered it. ” Haath mat choo…..” he hissed into the phone hoping his colleague at the other end understood what he meant. ” Sorry sir,” he apologised to Otiende, ” That’s just HO wanting to know how much longer we’d take.”

    The rest of the  ride, Sanjiv kept looking furtively at his own hand. He was dying to get into the wash room and wash it clean. When they got into the office Otiende was amazed how none of the Staff shook his hand.
    “Hey, man!” he said to Sanjiv, ” I thought you said people in the office shake hands.”

    “Sir,” he said, “they normally do, but doing a Namaste is the more polite way of greeting your Boss!” and he excused himself to run to the wash room.

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

     

  • At Sunset

    Sunny skies are back in my beloved city which is going to welcome Lord Ganesha next Monday. Our Mumbai skies are generally blue, so blue and bright that they look almost white. So cloudy days are very few just before the monsoon and just as they are leaving. These last few days the air’s been clear and clouds are few and far between. The sea is gradually losing its turbid brown murky colour and sea horses break the little waves. But Ganesha is normally bid farewell on  wet and gloomy,rainy days so these clouds may not be the last clouds yet.

    The monsoons this year were good even though we had a few days of flooded streets and an awful incident of a road cave in on the seaboard. This however was not due to the rain but to the collapse of a pipe that was far too old.

    A mixed bag of white and grey in the morning sky

    Dark clouds being chased away by the white

     

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