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.