Last week, Friday, ended little dull. No, it wasn’t a hectic work week. It wasn’t something that made me utterly homesick either. Friday evenings are usually something that I enjoy the most. With a beer tin my hand and headphones plugged onto my ears I walked towards a park for an evening stroll. It was a bit tough to enjoy the songs, and surprisingly the beer as well. Wanting to divert my mind, I called up a friend in Mumbai and talked with him for several minutes. Out of the blue I hear a screeching loudspeaker in the background, disturbed, I asked my friend about it. ‘Arey wo Ganpati ka preparations hai na, Sunday se Ganpati chalu ho raha hai’ (kindly excuse that, he is a catholic :-]), came the reply.
Ah! Yes, it was the time of the Ganpati festival back there in India; and Mumbai must be ringing with excitement. ‘So much I miss that environment’, I thought. No, I am not a religious person who does daily prayers or worships. However, Ganpati festival has always made me feel excited and colourful. Flowing back into the memories, I remember how I enjoyed to dance in the processions (free-style-shammi-devanand-rajesh khanna-mithun-bacchan-bhagwaan dada-and what not); the more [peacock] dance, pankhida dance, and butterfly dance were my favourites. I remember the enthusiasm of taking part in the cultural programmes during the festival – I acted in 4 plays during various years (pssst...also got acclaimed for best acting once – prize Rs. 25 only – the most memorable part ;-]). It was fun to go with friends to see the huge fantastically carved idols, the clay-robotics (if I can say so), and the décor across the brightly lit streets of Mumbai. I am missing the times when I used to get up to the tunes of “Deva Ho Deva Ganpati Deva…”, “Gajanana Shri Ganraya…”, and so on that banged on the loudspeakers to announce and rejoice the festive mood. Here in London, all I can hear is the “khadd khadd” of the tube trains, whispers (read mannerisms of conversation) of the ladies and the gentlemen, brisk music from the earphones of someone sitting next to me. Oh! So much I miss not being in Mumbai during this time – regret!
Modak – Regret! Regret! Regret! Not being able to eat hot steaming modaks (that my mommy makes – they are just yum!) on the first day of Ganpati was a horrifying despair.
My day ended with nostalgic hallucination of the days spent during earlier Ganpati festivals, and my tongue swirling around my lips yearning for taste of the modaks.
Ah! Yes, it was the time of the Ganpati festival back there in India; and Mumbai must be ringing with excitement. ‘So much I miss that environment’, I thought. No, I am not a religious person who does daily prayers or worships. However, Ganpati festival has always made me feel excited and colourful. Flowing back into the memories, I remember how I enjoyed to dance in the processions (free-style-shammi-devanand-rajesh khanna-mithun-bacchan-bhagwaan dada-and what not); the more [peacock] dance, pankhida dance, and butterfly dance were my favourites. I remember the enthusiasm of taking part in the cultural programmes during the festival – I acted in 4 plays during various years (pssst...also got acclaimed for best acting once – prize Rs. 25 only – the most memorable part ;-]). It was fun to go with friends to see the huge fantastically carved idols, the clay-robotics (if I can say so), and the décor across the brightly lit streets of Mumbai. I am missing the times when I used to get up to the tunes of “Deva Ho Deva Ganpati Deva…”, “Gajanana Shri Ganraya…”, and so on that banged on the loudspeakers to announce and rejoice the festive mood. Here in London, all I can hear is the “khadd khadd” of the tube trains, whispers (read mannerisms of conversation) of the ladies and the gentlemen, brisk music from the earphones of someone sitting next to me. Oh! So much I miss not being in Mumbai during this time – regret!
Modak – Regret! Regret! Regret! Not being able to eat hot steaming modaks (that my mommy makes – they are just yum!) on the first day of Ganpati was a horrifying despair.
My day ended with nostalgic hallucination of the days spent during earlier Ganpati festivals, and my tongue swirling around my lips yearning for taste of the modaks.
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