Invoking the scribe -- 2

For some peculiar reason I am still caught up with memories juxtaposed with Ganesh Chaturthi; memories that seem very much mine but also have that sepia-shade of being touched by time; seeming almost as if they are from another life.

I remember the elephants (from across the border and Bihar) waddle-walking down the colony road, in a ponderous convoy of twos and threes. Then the shrill trumpets at every gate meant to summon the lady of the house -- with money and rice for the mahout and a tidbit for the lumbering giant.

I also remember how I would sometimes get a "paid" ride on an elephant (only if my father or an uncle was at home) and how most of the adults of the colony would bargain for a bristle of hair from the elephant's tail -- meant to bring prosperity.

I remember the culinary celebrations at home -- mostly dealing with delicacies that would rarely (if at all) be made till September and Lord Ganesha came again. For instance, idli batter cooked in baskets of green jackfruit leaves. To be eaten with a assortment of sambars and chutneys, each more un-idli-like than the next! I also remember the numerous types of coconut ladoos, the junnu, the payasams and so on......

And I remember a particular Brinjal curry that my Grandmother would cook when we used to have a get together of uncles, aunts and so on -- after counting the number of heads -- of which everyone would want second helpings. This is a curry that deserves a separate post altogether not only for the time-taking way it used to be made and the memories of taste associated with it but because of the name that one of my uncles had given to it -- one that would scandalize my Grandmother everytime I would utter it!

The end of September (and the Visarjan of Lord Ganesha) also meant a slackening of the rains and the arrival of sun-splashed, green gold days. And the beginnings of group picnics and escapades to pokhuris, rivers and other water-bodies buzzing with a gazillion dragonflies.

To be followed by Durga Puja and winter, of course.

Invoking the scribe -- 1

I work on the other side of the lake and my commute extends from one city to another. Which means that one of the small joys that I can partake of on a daily basis (apart from Sundays) is a ride across the Bund and also that I get to see Hussein Sagar (with its changing colours, depths and moods) on a daily basis.

I am an observer, even when I am on the Bullet, immaterial of the usual dangers and risks poetic in a fast-moving city; immaterial of someone trying to overtake me from the left and someone else wanting to shoulder a way from the right and someone else wanting me to get out of his / her way.

But then, this post is not progressing the right way, it should ideally start with what happened on last Thursday. That was when it took me almost 2 hours to make it to the other side of the lake (the Bund was closed to traffic) and no, I am not going to rant about the city's lack of civic sense or other metropolitan woes.

You see, last Wednesday was when the immersion happened here in Hyderabad. And this time around it seems that the turnout of the people participating in the immersion and the number of idols were both unprecedented and thus it continued for most part of Thursday too.

I am talking of the immersion procession of the elephant-headed god, Ganesha.

Peculiarly enough (maybe because of my substantial commute this year) Ganesha has been constantly on my mind this year and I have been to more of his Pandals and immersion processions this time around than in other years.

I have been stuck on Tank Bund inordinately and ridden my way on egg shells as people have crossed the Bund barefoot -- grandmothers, mothers, daughters, fathers and sons -- entire families with their family's Ganesha. To bid him adieu till next year by immersing him in the waters.

I have chuckled to myself on finding Necklace Road open and ride-able (as opposed to being a mass of lake-watching people the very next day) and also noted that probably this is the only time when Tank Bund looks brighter and more necklace like than Necklace Road!

I have thrilled at the quaint logic and arithmetic of my mind which finally calculated and understood the reason why Lord Ganesha is also known as Bhima -- while I had slowed down in front of yet another pandal on yet another day. As something about the colour of the idol or the lighting in the pandal or some enlightenment in my mind lets me conclude that the lovable (and petulant) child God is simultaneously massive and elephant headed too.

And lastly (you could say it all started here) I have ridden as if my very life depended on it -- slowly and with utmost caution while three of his idols in wet, unbaked clay, sat pillion on the back seat of the Bullet. And felt very blessed to reach home and find all three idols intact.

I have wanted to blog all this for quite some time. And as with most observations and memories the delay in writing means I have forgotten a lot of things. Still, mine's the hope that with this blog post up, I can write a bit more (am dealing with a persistent writer's block as of now) and I hope the original scribe, Lord Ganesha blesses me to write well.

Om Ganeshaya Namaha

(O Lord Ganapati!) You are (the Trinity) Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahesa. You are Indra. You are fire [Agni] and air [Vāyu]. You are the sun [Sūrya] and the moon [Chandrama]. You are Brahman. You are (the three worlds) Bhuloka [earth], Antariksha-loka [space], and Swargaloka [heaven]. You are Om. (That is to say, You are all this).