Visarjan..


Tuesday Sep 28, 2004. 12.30 am.
Just returned from Chowpatti, from Ganpati Visarjan and all..
There were about 10 of us from TIFR who left around 7ish for Churchgate, 
took the train to Charni Road and thereon walked to Chowpatti beach..
It takes about 45 mins for the TIFR bus to make its 15 min way to VT..
Walk to Churchgate and then decide to take a "slow local" train to 
Charni Road..Getting off a Bombay train at rush hour is as usual 
interestingly disgusting -- Lisa (evidently not a Bombayite :) ) 
gives a "Clunk" expression (major euphemism, this) as she sees the swarm 
of guys brace themselves to board the 2nd class Gents' compartment, vying 
for those few precious seats remaining empty..Deepshika was more or less 
"Clunk" herself..anyway there're cops right outside the train, just in 
case the crowds get out of hand and we finally manage to make our way 
out of the train just as it's about to pull out of the station..

Trudge thro the crowds off the station and onto the road.
It's raining..not cats and dogs but enough to drench one over time..
The streets are packed with hoards of people dancing away..the first 
thing you notice is how merry and carefree the people are (in part cos 
some of them are of course stone-drunk), and yet there's a feeling of 
sadness marking the end of a 10-day stint of Ganpati festivities in 
Bombay, the city of happenings..

Fireworks light up the sky from time to time..Lars and Suvrat (also 
myself) are reminded a bit of the 4th of July fireworks.. the background 
music is of course a mixture of instrumental Hindi film music, some 
Gayatri Japam in a female rendition of a rather mundanely standardized 
tune (which particular rendition my sister absolutely abhors), various 
Marathi Ganpati Aarti shlokas and myriad other overtones which all blend 
into a more or less homogeneous medlee.
Walking along the "sidewalk", such as it was at the time swarming with 
people, felt like going nowhere rather slowly. Eventually we reach 
Chowpatti. The entrances to the beach are cordoned off by police, who 
seem to be doing a rather slipshod job of organizing the dispersion of 
the mobs. The crowds are rather unbridled at times and one feels much as 
in the local train exit at rush hour, with no control whatsoever on one's 
immediate direction. 
Our first attempt at getting in is a debacle -- as is often the case,
the women have it worse at times like this, since the crowds often have 
no sense of decency and hands are flailed wildly. Anyway on the second 
attempt, we manage to make our way into the beach.

And all of a sudden, it's much quieter. Far less crowded as well. 
One can occasionally, amidst the sporadic pauses in the ambient music, 
hear the sounds of the waves breaking on the shore. In the distance can 
be seen several Ganpati idols, some rather huge, about 10 feet high on 
elevated platforms about as high themselves, making for towering, 
awesome figures of the Elephant God, Ganesha.

Here and there, one runs into small groups of people and chants of 
".. Lambodhar Peetambar .." with small yet striking Ganpati idols of 
their own, incense sticks infusing that bit of fragrance in the local 
ambience.

There are probably 30 odd Ganpati idols in the area..some already in the 
sea, waiting to be claimed thereby, some en route there..as we walk away 
from the sea along what we think is a natural way out, police reroute us 
towards other routes dedicated to exits since further trucks carrying 
huge Ganpati idols are on their way into Chowpatti.
We're finally back on the main road. Amidst the crowds on the road can 
be found people driving cars recklessly thro the night, making their way 
to their destinations.

We decide to walk it to Churchgate since it's nicer out in the open 
anyway.

Time goes by. There's a brief respite in the rain. Lightning paints out 
some rather intricate streaks in the sky. Amazing. Amidst all the slush 
and the humidity and the time delays in the public transport and so on, 
can't help thinking Bombay is so lovely in the rains ..

We're finally there. Walk into an Natural's icecream parlour. I refrain, 
fearing onslaughts of cough. This done, some of us decide to take a cab 
back to TIFR, and some of us decide to walk. 
I thirst for some coffee or other hot beverage and we walk into this 
fancy looking pizzeria. We've sat ourselves down and begun looking at the 
menu when we're informed that no hot beverages are served here. Swearing 
at these swank yet at times pointless enterprises in the City, we get up 
and walk out amidst stares of various customers.

Eventually we walk into an Irani restaurant and get some hot tea, which 
isnt too bad altho it does leave us desiring more. Anyway it thaws us 
up sufficiently to walk about, in search of some food. And down the road, 
we find some soup and suchlike. Expensive bowl of soup, this. But then 
this is a rather swank part of South Bombay and well, what can one 
expect hereabouts..

It's 10.45 pm. BEST is infrequent at these hours. And we -- there are 
six of us now -- decide to walk it back to TIFR. Fairly pleasant walk.
The rains have ceased. En route, we find more crowds of merry dancing 
Visarjan parties. One of them pulls Lars in -- he dances away basking in 
the warmth of the group, there's Rang in the air, probably some bit of 
gaanja as well, not to mention alcohol and tobacco. By the time we pull 
Lars out of the crowd, he's all coloured up, looking like he's just out 
of a Holi parade.

Anyway we walk on. There's music still in the air. Drumbeats. Sounds of 
people dancing away thro the night. The people are light-hearted and
cheerful and also colourful, in literal ways now. This is one of those 
times when the intricate way in which religion and ways of life 
intertwine in India are all-too-conspicuous.

Just realized I must have easily spotted about 50 odd Ganpati idols over 
the last few hours. 

Finally we enter Homi Bhabha Road (it's midnight). Here be the sounds of 
silence.

We walk past a hutment that without a doubt was erstwhile shelter to a 
Ganpati idol. Emptiness reigned supreme now. Indescribable emptiness. 
Emptiness marking the end of yet another 10-day spell of a vibrant 
festival of the year. Aptly spelt out by the sentiments underlying  
"Ganpati Bappa Morya! Pudchya Varshi Laukar Yaa!".
.... ("Glory to Lord Ganpati! Return soon next year!") ....