Thursday, September 11, 2008

Vighaharta ki Vighnakarta? (The destroyer of obstacles or creator of obstacles?)

To the people for whom this context is lost due to cultural differences, this is about the Ganesh Utsav (festival) that is a standard fanfare of the devout Hindus of Maharashtra and Gujarat. As a kid and as a student the lord of knowledge, Ganesha was always a source of awe and wonder. The 10 day celebration that goes with the birth of the lord was a time of merry making and fun. And yeah, the ‘bundi ladoos’ were the added attraction. Ok, for the orthodox, the ‘modaks’ are the official sweets to be associated with the lord, but I am partial to the former. The celebration of ‘Sarvajanik Ganesh Mahotsav’ was intended to bring together the people of the village or community and add to the feeling of unity. It was an excellent concept brought about by the great freedom fighter Lokmanya Tilak.
Note the ‘was’. More on that later. The fun part was about sitting on the petrol tank of dad’s trusty Crusader motorcycle and going on a ride around the Ahmedabad city catching glimpses of the deity’s different poses. Each group or ‘mandal’ would hotly vie the top spot as the most creative representation of the god. In those days, we used to have free prasad (read ‘ladoos’) from the mandal’s designated priest and the viewing of the lord’s idol was easy. Any person walking down the road could have an excellent and unrestricted view of the idol and pray obeisance without having to do anything special. Life was simpler then and the god demanded precious little.
But time is something that changes everything. Cut to today in Ahmedabad and I found myself facing a crowd of brainless ‘devotees’ performing Garba to the tunes of Suneeta Rao’s “Pari Hoon Main”. Not that I am orthodox or anything. I’d have not minded if these lunatics were gyrating to the tune of “Valentine’s Day”. My problem was simpler. My watch read 12.30 A.M. and if I had a decibel meter, it would have been pointing to ‘ear drum damage’ level. I like most sane individuals would prefer to sleep peacefully at night. Instead I had a choice to either ignore this din which had kept me awake for the last few nights or go ‘talk’ to the organizers. My very devout neighbors chose to bury their heads in satin pillows and snore the night away. I didn’t have one and so I was faced with the obvious choice.
Long story short, the morons at the pandal turned down the volume after offering lame excuses that the volume control knob didn’t work and that their kids were studying too. I had to counter with a response stating that Ganesha had amply huge ears and could do without the 140 dB pop music. As I walked back to my home, I wondered. Where is it actually going wrong? I wondered if this kind of flagrantly idiotic behavior would make Lokmanya Tilak turn in his grave. Would he have tried to imbue the concept of unity in some other way if he had a way of knowing what his approach would turn into?
And before the people from Mumbai snicker at the foolishness of ‘Garba before Ganesha’ prevalent in Gujarat, wait to hear what I have for you. Ganesh Utsav was supposed to bring the community together irrespective of caste, creed and wealth. Mumbai too has forgotten this. The mad rush of people, trying to buy Ganesh idols on the night of Ganesh Chaturthi with a blatant disregard for the civic order and traffic rules, was example enough how wrong the festival has turned out to be. Nowhere in the melee did I feel the presence of unity. Instead it had turned into an all out mines-bigger-than-yours run with an objective of creating the maximum ruckus while bringing home the deity’s idol at 2 AM. Frankly, if the real Ganesha could hear this, he’d probably consider conversion to Islam (No offense meant, but the idol-less worship concept seems much greener now). And these were only the idols headed for homes.
The mandals for ‘Sarvajanik Ganesha' have a more novel idea. Not only do they block critical parts of over-congested roads, they also have turned the festival into the very thing it should not be. Out of the 3 Ganesh Utsavs that I have seen in Mumbai, I have not caught glimpse of a single idol in due course of the 17 km bus ride from office to home, even once. Gone are the days with the wind blowing through my hair, legs tightly wrapped around the petrol tank of the Crusader, I could join hands to pay my respects to idol after idol as I whizzed past the pandals.
In the land of uber-babugiri, the pandals are no longer open door affairs. The lord is shrouded behind a closed door and the entry is restricted. I don’t know if the door keeper asks for donations to get inside. I have been an agnostic for too long to visit one of these places. Yeah, don’t blame me. I grew up and started getting thoughts. Last I heard about Ganesha was that he was the lord of learning, the destroyer of obstacles. Then where does this obstacle of hiding the lord behind a curtain come into picture? It reminds me of Kanakdasa for whom, legend says, Lord Krishna’s idol turned 180 degrees, tore down a wall and appeared before the lower caste devotee. Nothing like that happened with me. This goes on to prove one of two things. Either, I am not Ganesha’s favorite devotee, which possibly figures from my agnostic approach to life. Or, Ganesha himself probably chooses not to ‘reside’ in any of these idols. Guess he’s allergic to Plaster of Paris!
Either ways, as in the movie Wild Hogs, where Damien Blade tells the Del Feugos to go remind themselves what being out on the open road is about, it’s time for a reminder. Ganesh utsav is not about harassing the neighborhood with loudspeakers and ostentatious display. It is to celebrate the birth of the lord who destroys obstacles. Not exactly the kind of God who expects a flyover to be demolished (and then take a painful 2 years to get back up) just because his idol cannot pass underneath it. Not exactly the kind of God who puts on a veil and allowing ‘darshan’ to only those who stand in line for hours together. Not exactly the kind of God who likes a crowd of nubile youngsters performing ‘Garba’ to the tunes of pop music. Maybe the Ganesh I knew was just a simpler God who liked ‘bundi ladoos’ and whose form inspired a feeling of wellbeing and pleasantness. Guess this is what they call getting old, because I miss the good old days already.