Ganpati Festival, Bandra / Juhu Beach — September 2006

A couple of weeks ago, Mumbai and its suburbs were teeming with Ganesh-loving supplicants. During the weeks-long festival of Ganpati, Hindus sponsor shrines dedicated to the Elephant God who may bless a lucky one with health, wealth, and happiness. A big campaign for environmental awareness resulted in fewer Styrofoam and plaster of Paris sculptures and more biodegradable ones since, at the culmination of the festival, each group leads his god to the beach for the great submersion, and disintegration.

One Saturday night, I found myself in the middle of the celebration as my friends and I headed out to a beach party. We had begun our journey up north to Juhu via rickshaw, but our path was soon obstructed by the masses dancing, singing, blowing horns, and parading down the streets. They drifted toward the beach, leading their carts laden with the decorative idols sitting on their thrones amidst flowers, incense, and other offerings. As many worshippers made their way toward the beach with the idols intact, others were returning with their empty shrines.

The crowds ultimately became so great, the rickshaw driver could go no further. We dismounted the rickshaw and found ourselves swept into the welcoming, festive throngs. As we walked past one portable shrine, a devotee pushed his way toward us and thrust his hand in my face. Instinctively, I stepped back. I quickly realized, however, that he was presenting me with some type of sweet rice mixture so that I, too, could share in the celebration venerating Ganesh. Once I realized this, I appreciatively accepted a sampling. He smiled and we continued on our way toward the beach. People danced to music erupting from stereos which were ingeniously set up on small carts pushed alongside the portable shrines. Over the music, merrymakers honked horns which sounded like elephants. Scattered beside the road, families gathered around hawkers who had spread out colorful toys and noisemakers. I bought a plastic yellow noisemaker shaped like a bird.

Eventually, we arrived at the beach where other communities of worshippers had already arrived. Masses swarmed along the sands of the beach as people waded into the waters to submerge their idols. Great cries of gaiety erupted as the gods disintegrated into the water. A little girl tugged at my noisemaker. I handed it to her and her face lit up. She puffed up her cheeks and blew into the bird which rewarded her with its noisy wailing. As other kids crowded up to us, I encouraged her to share the bird with the others. We left the children, excitedly playing with their new toy.

We eventually made our way up the beach to our friends’ house where they had been watching the beach from their balcony. They commented that it seemed rather quiet this far north. Ah, if they had only journeyed with us! Still, this was only Saturday. Wednesday, the grand idols of the wealthier congregations would make their way down to the beach and that, truly, would be a spectacle.