Painted Reveries, Elephant Dreams: Mumbai's Ganapati Chaturthi Festival

As keeper of the community, Ganesha-Ganapati becomes the embodied spirit collective, representative of Mumbai's humble past, Bombay's rise to power, and Bumbai's celebratory future: the Elephant God is both keeper of secrets and holder of dreams--     the representation of all things hoped for, the dream to be and become in a city filled to the gills with rich, poor, poets, and peddlers.  As a physical symbol of protection, Ganesha's image protects elevator doors from breaking down, is plastered across cars and rickshaws to prevent accidents, is painted along walls to deter passersby from desecrating streets, and is hidden all across the city among niches and pathways to protect its humble patrons.     

      Reflections from this year's Mumbai Ganapati Chaturthi Festival, September 2012:   

The painted Ganeshas are being built, sealed, cemented, and finalized for the annual Mumbai festival, where the representative patron of the city, Elephant God Ganapati--remover of obstacles and Lord of Beginnings--is graciously carried by adherents in the thousands.  As gramadevata, or the deity of community, Ganesha embodies the soul of the City of Dreams: its people, rush, streets, trees, pollution, vendors, buildings, foods, and the songs of the city.  Elements of Ganapati combine, fuse, and intermingle, producing the essence, the feel, the sense of the place.  

The clay and cement bodies of Ganesha-Ganapati sigh a relief as they are plunged into the depths of the ocean. The crowd performs ceremony, ablutions, and cheers of happiness as their City's divine protector is granted sweets, bananas, flowers, incense, ghee candles, and even the more recent addition of offerings of milk.  The large metal vases built in the south side's Chowpatti beach are ready to catch their offerings; to envelop the pujas materially manifest and received by the holy of holies in Mumbai's practitioner pantheon.  (A puja is a ritualized form of Hindu prayer and offering.)

The voice of Ganesha speaks through his people, adherents and worshipers bowing before the sea.  The voices of the silent are deafening.  All around are listening, waiting. Reflecting humility as the water reflects back.  Looking into themselves as they look upon one another.  Chaos and reverie, humility and community.

The Elephant God will speak, manifest, shine forth, bring blessings...the promises of a new year.  The wholesome wish for things future and good...   The dream to carry forth and be fed, be sated, be satisfied, be sanctified.  The desire to be free from burden.  The desire to be free from guilt.  The desire to be whole and pure.

The collective celebration fills the hollows, the cracks, the fissures in people's spirits.  Refreshes and revives for another day.  Brings completeness to the displeasure of brokenness.  Opens wounds so that the salve can enter deeply.  The voices of the silent, they speak.  Ganesha hears their voices, silently wishing their heartfelt prayers become personified in real-time. 



The ablution has been made. The blessing has moved forward.
The Elephant God, in all his incarnations,
is bathed, blessed, and brought forth to life in the eyes of his people.
The cacophony is deadening as it pierces our very centers.

The crowds rejoice.  Rain falls.  The people dance haphazardly, happily, transformed from driver and beggar and maid into ritual celebrant, supplicant, performer.  Cheers and sighs of heaving embellish the monsoon sky; the beach becomes an elephant oasis.  The statues wink as their paint begins to bleed, drip, drop, as in scales of armor falling to invite the new.












The lead paint from the statues disintegrates into the ocean, piece by piece raising the poisoned fish as a salute, floating to the surface.  Their sacrifice has been noted.  Ganesha listens and the people rejoice.  Another year has been offered, another been received.  Ganesha, in his majesty, lives again: voice of the people, Patron King, he washes over impurities and makes his worshipers feel anew.

Splashes of water, 

the washing of the face, eyes, feet, 

a sign to begin again.  

 The water cools and burns, 

ices as it purifies.

The silence is deafening among all of the honks and city sirens/ 

but the voice of the people is heard.  

Rejoice!  Ganapati speaks through the actions of his people.     

Peace, Violence, Hope

There is so much to be thankful for.

The world is turning itself on its head right before me.  World news is transformative.  Violence in many countries at times appears immanent.  And yet, despite the calls towards dissonance, the cadenced ring of voices of hope spread across the page, through the words of friends, through those longing for a brighter future, individuals and communities with dreams for a better tomorrow, a deeper understanding, a holistic sense of love, the freedom of longevity, and a desire to feel safe.

Safety is the sense of home.   In safety we find peace, and with peace, openness.

There is so much to be thankful for: life, health, strength.

For those who are suffering, let them feel peace.
For those who are hurting, let them have rest.
For those who are tired, let them revive.
For those who are weak, let them find voice.
For those who are trampled, let them be raised.
For those who are burdened, let them be free.
For those who are happy, healthy, whole--
or working to be full and found,
despite a sense of rupture, brokenness, heartbreak--
let us give thanks.
Let us give thanks for
the seed of hope,
kernel of truth,
flash of light,
aha moment...
that allows us to see amidst sadness lies hope,
and in a world breeding violence,
peace reigns supreme.

Thought for the Day

To Try

To Die

To Free

or Be Freed--

Between Fear and Adventure,

I Choose the Journey.

      -christi 3.21.11

Thought for the Day

Energy put towards your true passion is never wasted.
                                                                            -Wise dude on Facebook.

A Fish Building in Hyderabad: Can't tell you why they did it, what's it's for, or who created it, but I figure if you are going to create a giant 13-story fish building without clear signage or seeming reason, you are probably following your passion.  And fish, my dear, was apparently hers or his.

Birds on a Wire (Aka: The Bob & Mary Sue Saga)

The highlight of my morning was when three green parrots landed on my cable wire veering from my left living room window and began to play out the ritual of greeting, squawking, and general grooming.  By the time two more arrived, I swear that the middle one was winking at me.  They canoodled, preened, prattled, and perched, and I caught it all in an amusing time sequence.  For those with children present, please avert their eyes: this is going to get a bit 'Discovery Channel' if you know what I mean...  But all in a good laugh, jah?

Hello, my name is Bobby.  And this here is Mary Sue.  We are pretending to not notice each other because of that awkward encounter last week.  Let's just say, it put my feathers in a ruffle, if you catch my drift.

I'm looking left.

And she's looking right.  I suppose we'll pretend that we don't recognize each other.  No biggie.

Oh no.  She's coming my way.  Abort mission.  Fly away!  Act excited.  No, act cool. 

She's into me.  That's right.  She's into me.

[Side Note: And that's when the viewer, silly human, began to feel a bit awkward (read: voyeuristic) herself.] 

Things got a bit ugly.  Things got a bit... real.

Yep.

I hope they stretched for yoga.

And this was pre-coffee.  Well played, sir, well played.

Mary Sue: Let's be civilized about this, Bob.

Bob: Giggity Giggity! 

(The bird's the word.  Hooha.)

To all, a merry morning, and a cheery, un-weary day.  May the little moments surprise you, and those awkward conversations... lead to something magical.  Like a bird stooped on your wire, in front of your window, or a happy coincidence that reignites old friends.  In the wise words of Bob, I beckon forth with, "Did you see that?  That's right.  She digs me."  I mean, "Act cool, Bob, act cool."

Thought for the Day

the bugle call...

           Remembrance of things future/
                
                               Go Forth/

           before history changes everything.

Thought for the Day

(This guy did, and look at him!)

Liberate your cool.

Thought for the Day

                  Say no evil.
                                 Hear no evil.
                                                See no evil.
 

  And don't forget to say hello, because people, for the most part, are  good.

Thought for the Day

Things can change in the blink of an eye/
                                                          

                                                           Who blinked?

Thought for the Day

Hindu Temple's Pinnacle 

Need change?
Flip a coin.
Heads is Option A.
Tails is Option B.
While in the air,
Before looking at the way it lands,
Listen to what you hope for.
When you look at the captured coin,
How do you feel?
Was it the answer that you wanted?
If you are disappointed, go the other direction.
If you are happy, you'll know, within that very instant,
which way is the right way to go.
The coin is not the answer, but merely a tool,
enabling us to materialize what we had hoped for all along.


                                                                              
Some writers have talked about how the physical embodiment of a sacred sanctum
is a manifestation of the human body's exterior form:
the angles, elevations, and appendages
are a reflection of a larger, interior story of the worshiping masses
as well as an individual narrative of faith.
Think of the highest point on the building as a spinner, a grand coin capturer, that determines
the left and right of things: the cosmic balance of destiny.
Spin that coin and decide your fate. 

Thought for the Day

                                      Your time is limited, 
  so don't waste it living someone else's life.  
                                                         -Steve Jobs

This woman, like many millions in India, lives on the street.  In Hyderabad, she shares the road space between lanes and calls it her abode.  

There are so many things to be thankful for--

There are so many ways that, with a little determination, we can make great change.
                                                                                             

Thought for the Day

Never ignore those intuitions. 
When you have some slight repugnance about doing something,
listen to it. -Rumi

I saw this beautiful little girl sitting by the side of a Jain pigeon sanctuary in Mumbai, at Chowpatty Beach.  This is where many of the Ganesha statues, in honor of the elephant god, are annually carried, bathed, and immersed in the sea by thousands of devotees.  The little girl stared into the bird haven for awhile, until her curiosity overtook the expectation to stay on the outside of the bird residence.  When she walked with the birds, hundreds flew away simultaneously and, when they did, she stretched out her arms like she, too, was free.

Having it All or Having Enough?

A Barrage of Signs (in three languages, no less!)

Enough?

We are taught to 'have it all' and then feel guilty when we don't.
It creates a self-perpetuating cycle of remorse for the near-impossible.
Rather than trying to be all, do all, conquer it all, and have it all--
why not be satisfied with what we have as we strive to become the person we are meant to be?

Having it all is not enough--
We have to Be Enough without having it all--
in order to feel soulful and whole.
Trying to fill the emptiness with external reward
is like using bubble gum as a binder for a monument's foundations--
no matter how much we have, it's never going to really stick.

He's got enough.

(So enough is enough).
It is time to stop saying
we need it all in order to be our all.
We are, as we are, enough.
Be proud of where you stand, unfinished.

What's Great about America

Independence Day Fireworks, Washington Monument, DC

 Happy 
     July 4th!

Living abroad is fulfilling, challenging, and often an adventure.  It also makes you appreciate America more fully because you realize that things that run smoothly and freely in the U.S. (without much of a second thought) may not be as easy, as accessible, or even available in most other parts of the world.  Having access to fresh fruits and vegetables, fair and free elections, drinkable running water, relatively clean air, great art, music, food (Americana and global fusion), movies, an open press and free speech--along with many other wonderful things that make America great--are often easy to take for granted if not faced with scenarios that counter expected American privileges, rights, and norms. 

In honor of America's U.S. Independence day, I wanted to mention what about our amazing country I miss while living outside of our nation's borders:

1. The food: fresh California salads, health conscious meals (not packed with oil), Mexican food, Trader Joe's, southern fried pickles and fish and chips (I know, the opposite of healthy), Diet Coke with splenda, organic fruits available year round (I miss this the most), fresh seafood (it's rainy season so right now we can't eat any raw veggies, seafood, or herbs), sushi, guacamole, dark chocolate and ice cream, artichokes, clean large supermarkets that smell of lemon disinfectant and fresh bread, smoothies, (and did I mention FRESH veggies/fruits/raw food?)  We've got it good with food selections in America, I promise, especially in cities with multi-cuisines.

A Delicious Family Tradition: American Flag Strawberry Cake

2. The holidays: Independence Day (fireworks), Thanksgiving (lots o' tasty sweets), Christmas (sacred or secular), Easter, MLK Day, the whole lot.  We have a holiday every month of the year, except August--and my birthday is in August--so we've pretty much got it covered.

3. The people: We have a huge variation of people from multiple ethnic, linguistic, social, and cultural backgrounds; regional variation in food stuffs and accents; pride of place; community neighborhoods and sacred centers; families of all kinds; and overall, I'd say, people are genuinely nice. 

Overlooking the Lincoln Memorial, Washington, D.C.

The U.S. also has some of the most innovative, creative, and intellectually stimulating people in the world in fields that span art, thermodynamics, small business, and the academy.  Even though people do not agree on politics, religions, or the expectations of an educational system, we as a people overall get along, we talk about it, and, for the most part, we can exchange in dialogue peacefully.  We assume there will be no bloodshed between party members, that we can dissent in opinion, and we can come up with ways to make the U.S. better through community initiatives, laws, and voting.  Compared to many parts of the world, this is an amazing feat.  Seriously.

4. Americana.  We have some really cool stuff. 

Anyhow, just wanted to express a little U.S.A. cheer from across the mighty globe...
 
Celebrate Independence Day and appreciate all of the beautiful places, people, and amazing opportunities around you. 

                                                       We have a lot to be thankful for.

Thought for the Day

\

Overlooking the mountains between Mumbai and Hyderabad

 

Don't sit back and look (longingly) 

at what could have been, 

but rather, 

face the music, 

make change where you can and, when you can't--

make amends, move on, and be content 

with what lies before you.

Bombay, You Say? (Mumbai, for an Eye?)

Birds & Wires across the Sky

Birds abound in the tree-filled parts of Bandra, Mumbai, and their continuous small chirps and slurps, squawks and squabbles, dances and dives, keep me entertained from my very office window.

The hawks around here also astonish.  They nestle in giant palms, on top of satellite dishes, at the peak of concrete mountains (read: apartment bungalows), and generally incite and encourage fear among all smaller, less monstrous birds.  (Ca-caw, Ca-caw!)

The crows and cormorants are likewise adventuresome; their meals often consist of scavenging fallen food and trash littered about the street, circling it in groups of fours and fives like vultures and arguing like old marrieds.

I sometimes wonder if the birds pick up on the chaos of the city 

and decide 

that their own lives must emulate 

the impending dramas, minor disasters, and social milieus that abound across Bombay.

This is a branching, flowered tree that I photographed with a dark back shadow: I love the inter-twisting lines.

Trees, Wires, and Jumbled Lines, Oh My!

I've seen at least three minor street accidents, which do not include the "mere" tapping of rear-view windows or bumpers, as this is more of a common occurrence and really rather a way of saying "hello" to your traveling neighbor.  (This is not an exaggeration!)  I enjoy walking about but, in high traffic times, particularly at the rush of dusk to early evening, I am careful where I go lest I become sandwiched between two cars fighting for the road.  But perhaps fighting isn't the right word.  People here are rather nice when they are driving, and road rage is not something generally visited upon, though getting cut-off, side-swiped, blocked in traffic, merged into multiple 'lanes' simultaneously, running through red traffic lights (they are more of a 'suggestion'), and being on guard for rickshaws and goods carriers in multiple directions is a must-do in the city.  I'd say if you haven't felt nervous in traffic before, well, then you've probably never visited Mumbai.

Downtown side street, South Bombay

   I remember feeling nervous a decade ago, in bella Roma, when all of the Prada-clad, four-inch heeled women buzzed by the city streets on their little pale blue Vespas, with a vroom vroom and a debonaire grin inching past my stand-still body.  I felt like so much was happening in the city all at once and, while exhilarating, I also wondered how people did the whole city song and dance day in, day out.  I even thought that a posting to Rome would be overly chaotic, and I wondered if we should go there for a longer stay.  Ha!  Looking back at that time, Rome in comparison to Mumbai was play-acting with its chaos, a mere chimera.  I have learned that chaos is a relative term, and Mumbai has it down pat.
(And, it suits me just fine).

I also saw images of NYC recently, areas where I used to look at and first notice the dirty streets.  My first response now: look it at how clean it looks!  (This is not to say, however, that I like New York better... it is just to say that my shift in perspective is noticeable... and amusing.)

Put yo' dancin' shoes on!

 



Living in any place after this, unless if it's a city with over 22-million people, will probably feel just a little less crowded and, most definitely, not nearly as exciting, playful, or intoxicating.  Bombay leaves an impression that is soon hard to forget, etched like a road map with twists, turns, and the inevitable cow-induced road block.

Ah, Mumbai.  She makes me smile.   

Sunrise in the City...

Who is ready for a visit?

India is quickly becoming home and the norm.  Things that once seemed outlandish or extraordinary or surprising are now part and parcel of everyday living.  The adjustment of moving from something that seems foreign to something that feels familiar takes time, patience, and habitual re-introductions: you see the four-year old child begging on the street, tapping on your door window, and your heart cringes.  It is horrific.  You don't understand why in the world children are put up to such daunting tasks, what makes life so cruel, and how these little guys are able to navigate between droves of moving traffic including 'dinosaur' buses, sacred cows, teenage-sped motorcycles, out of control rickshaws, and in-a-hurry cars. 

Smog is Bad, But the Sunsets are Beautiful!

You wonder how the poverty and wealth can meld and intersect and why some people spend $75 USD on a meal at the Taj while others barely get by on 50 rupees a day (85 cents).  You try to get over the small sights that appall you, like when you hear rural cancer patients as young as three are going through chemo treatments in the city but at night must sleep on fecal-infested streets in slum conditions because there is often not enough housing for a sanitary move to health.  They don't even have a chance.

A burgeoning seed pod on the side of a dusty road: a life metaphor?

And then you begin to think about all of the wonderful things that strike you about India:

the artwork painted across "goods carrier" trucks,

the inner sanctum of Hindu temples permeating incense and chants from the Upanishads,

the love of all things Bollywood in its sheer... Bollywoodness,

the way people are so quick to smile and are open to conversation,

the amazing wreaths, stringed necklaces, and bunches of flowers that are carefully tended to on the side of the road,
 the bright lights and loud celebrations at elaborately decorated weddings, the piercing sounds of traditional music which penetrate into your heartbeat, the food and the spices and all of the amazing ancient sites....

A sign of the times

I think I am keen on embracing the whole of India--but I must first become comfortable within the confines of Mumbai.  It is not the place that pictures and films always show, not the images of what is strewn about National Geographic of holy Ganges water and waves and waves of brightly colored saris.  It is a city.  A loud city.  A city of business and bustle and grime.  A city with beautiful restaurants and amazing openings, art galleries, fashion shows, and cinema.  It is a city where nearly half of its residents live in slums or on the street. 
  
It is, for the moment,  my home.

Graffiti-laced wall outside of Bandra Kurla

Clash-King Street Sign & Art Nouveau Riche

City Construction: note the bamboo ladders, hefty protective nets, and city building curves.

Parking in front of a small but proud city abode

tRue Hill Dream: Where 'art' and wealth meet on the street

What does it mean to be a city full of construction, growth, and renewal? 

A city alive and full of possibilities, of endless opportunities and potentials, the chance to be or become or to better oneself... the ability to move on and up in this world, if only for the sake of the children and the children's children
of our future generations?
 
Mumbai is full of would-be dreamers, people who see and foretell their futures as rich, famous, fabulous, or fantastical.









As a city of dreamers, people often come to Bombay for a grand plan or a hope or a vision to be lived out, enacted through art, painting, story,
business, politics, or local discourse.



 
Mumbai is younger, savvier and perhaps less sophisticated, but more cosmopolitan and less conservative, than her sister city of New Delhi.

One of the magic things about Mumbai is

the chaos of the city--

its inter-connective social exchanges, night lights, honks and firework-filled celebrations--

is intoxicating.  

I become drawn into minor moments, 

on side streets or tabled amongst the frenzy of movement on larger byways, 

enraptured by individual stories, emerging like tiny sunspots, 

momentary and mundane,

insubstantial yet also larger-than-life.

Local street guerrilla-style art/ embodying the frenetic tension of the city/ peeled away in layers

Moments like these fill my mind with a sense of hope mixed with strength, pleasure twinged with sadness, and the knowledge of what is with the desire for what will be:

the woman who took her sari, wrapped it around her head, and quickly poured blessings and an offering to the towering tree at the side of the road; 

the white-bearded man in all-white, with cataracts on his eyes, who seemed to look through the souls of passerbys in silence as cement was carried, flowers were vended, auto-rickshaws competed for customers, and a tired woman slept on the street corner; 

SeaLink Bridge Junction, South Mumbai

the well-fed horned cows, sacred across Mumbai, who are lovingly fed greens and sweet things to keep them happy, adorned, and continuously blessed; 

the Muslim woman wearing a brightly colored head scarf covering all but her eyes while sporting a western-style jean ensemble that was tight, bright, and voluptuous; 

the chai wallah who supplies his thirsty customers with frothing, warm chai tea; 

the children who work as beggars and salesmen on busy, crowded roads; 

the flower man who capriciously sits by the soccer field, ready to catch the school children's ball should it veer in his direction; 

the vegetables vendors who stare you down, trying to decide how much they should over-charge; 

the kind doorman who seems to be lost in his thoughts; 

the old woman, small in stature, who somehow towers over the young men she chides when informing them of her wishes...  

All of these little moments embody Mumbai,
giving the city life, breadth, sustenance, and vigor.  

I don't think it is possible to be bored in Mumbai, unless, of course,
you forget to look around.

Balmy, Breathtaking Bandra: Summer Heat Peak

I think I can, I think I can...slowly chugging up the hill.

Did I mention that A/C is magic/wonderful/amazing/miraculous?  Because it is.   

I realize I am extremely fortunate to have access to unnaturally cooled temperatures and humidifiers that purify the inside air.  There is enough humidity that four separate gallon-sized water tanks fill up and must be emptied once a day from the sucked up water captured within the balmy air in our building apartment.  Once the humidity lessens, the air cools quickly.  

 I suppose that living in Charleston, South Carolina prior to moving here was excellent prep for humid summers.  Right now the weather in Mumbai is perfect, low 80s, but will continue to steadily rise and peak until we hit the height of monsoon season in mid-summer, when the clouds turn gray and rain emerges like stray packages plummeting from the sky. 

Pink and Purty ; )

Flooding, I have heard, is common between June to September throughout Mumbai, but surface streets are generally slanted so they can for the most part still be driven on through the use of a dryer, narrowed entryway.  [Note to reader: Oh, so if you are going to visit, better not plan for monsoon season.]  October to May, however, is goodly warm weather, with the height of Mumbai’s beauty in January and February.  The flowers now, however, are blossoming colorfully, and walking around the city with the slight bit of heat is entirely manageable if you are a warm-weather spirited sort.  

Walking about on a warm, sticky day with sounds of cars and bugs buzzing through my ears.

 I, for one, chose to do my dissertation research in Ghana, West Africa during the winter season while living in New York: I will do nearly anything to re-arrange my schedule to avoid the bite of Father Winter.  Yes.  So for me, in this moment, the temperature is perfect.  Ghana, comparatively, takes about two weeks to become adjusted to the heat index, accompanied by frequent realizations, upon finding a sporadic mirror, that sweat dropules permeate and park themselves above the lip, on the back, under the arms, and down the legs.  You may be thinking, hmm, that sounds hot, but really you get used to it after a few short weeks, and then sitting in the shade it grows quite 

comfortable.  

 Hot weather makes cold drinks taste all the sweeter, and the power of ice holds ultimate prestige within my book.  My love of ice is a particular American-bred oddity, one that I’ve found, when traveling throughout Europe, is U.S. specific.  (When you ask for ice in Paris, they give you two bitty cubes to temper a tepid soda.  I on the other hand pour my ice to the cup’s brim and then listen to the crackle of Diet Coke—a strange addiction!— as the ice sharply breaks.)  When I hear the loud pop of the ice melding with drink, I know I have done well in preparing my frosty liquid for consumption.  Ah, ice.  Perhaps I should move on to more important things, no?    

 

Sun-bleached laundry, air conditioners, and breeze-seeking windows.

An idea of the heat index, if you are thinking of traveling to Mumbai: 

Year-round weather ranges from about 16 to 33 degrees Celcius (or 60 to 92 degrees Fahrenheit): January is the coolest and May is the warmest, whereas July is temperate but is by far the wettest.

Here's a scale in case (like me) you 

forgot how to do the conversion rate 

from Fahrenheit to Celcius:

16 degrees Celsius is 60.8 Fahrenheit

19 degrees Celsius is 66.2 Fahrenheit

21 degrees Celsius is 69.8 Fahrenheit

22 degrees Celsius is 71.6 Fahrenheit

23 degrees Celsius is 73.4 Fahrenheit

24 degrees Celsius is 75.2 Fahrenheit

25 degrees Celsius is 77 Fahrenheit

27 degrees Celsius is 80.6 Fahrenheit

28 degrees Celsius is 82.4 Fahrenheit

30 degrees Celsius is 86 Fahrenheit

31 degrees Celsius is 87.8 Fahrenheit

32 degrees Celsius is 89.6 Fahrenheit

33 degrees Celsius is 91.4 Fahrenheit

38 degrees Celsius is 100.4 Fahrenheit

40 degrees Celsius is 104 Fahrenheit

            So, do you think you will be up for a visit? 

And are you ready to handle the magical, marvelous heat?!?