By The Window

Anjali sat by the window. The sacred space in her newly built home offered her an excellent view of the street. The street had rows of colorful houses sandwiched between trees and Anjali’s home was on a vast expanse of land, completely undisturbed, in the corner of the street. The street that had otherwise seemed so perfect in every sense suddenly felt woefully desolate and oddly silent. Anjali was perturbed that the street lacked even an iota of festive look.

"Where were all the happy people ?"

"What happened to the carefree kids who hopped from one home to another, one pandal (marquee) to another?"

"Whatever happened to the music which caused Anjali to press her hand against her ears? It was a little game Anjali enjoyed – shutting her ears so hard that she did not hear even the faintest sound that emanated from the speakers. "

Anjali was bitterly disappointed to see the streets missing all the fervor on such an important day – After all, it was Ganesha Chaturthi. She narrowed her eyes and grimaced.

Lord Ganapati, the beloved son of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvathi is revered and loved by people all over India, in fact, the whole world. Lord Ganapathi is the divine force of wisdom, intelligence, and prosperity. Devotees always prayed to the darling god, Ganapathi before beginning any work – be it a tiny task or a massive one. Ganapathi, also known as Vighna Nivaraka, ensured to abolish all the obstacles, thereby enabling the accomplishment of the endeavors of his devotees.

Ganapathi had even solved the most complex problems of the devataas (deities) themselves and brought them out of haunting circumstances. Hence, everybody on the Bhooloka (Mother Earth) too prayed to Ganapathi to receive his blessings and protection. Ganapathi, the charming God, did so with a huge heart full of infinite amount of generosity.

Anjali and her sister hovered around their mother as the mother prepared for the festival. Anjali’s mother devoted herself selflessly to celebrate Ganapathi festival. She would narrate entertaining tales about Ganapathi as she prepared delicacies for the Lord.

"Why is Ganapathi called the elephant-headed god?"

"How did the rat come to be the companion of Lord Ganapathi?"

"Why do we place 21 blades of grass to Lord Ganapathi? So on and so forth."

Anjali and her sister listened to the mother; nevertheless, their eyes darted around to see if the sweets were ready so they could relish them. The Modaks, Ladoos, and Karjikayi were a must during the festival.

 “First twenty one are for the Lord. “ The mother would announce softly. The girls obliged.

The girls accompanied their mother to bring home the idol of Ganesha. The trio was clearly spoilt for choice for there were several designs and varieties of the idols. After choosing the best one, the favorite part of the festival came, which was, welcoming Ganapathi and his mom, Gowri home by doing an Arathi. The girls sang lovely songs in praise of the Lord Ganapathi.

Anjali’s father, on the other hand, took the complete responsibility of buying fresh flowers and fruits for the festival. Being a tall man with an athletic build, it was quite effortless for him to make his way out of the thickly crowded city market. He would make a garland with mango leaves and tie them up the entrance of the home. Anjali’s parents complimented each other very well; it was a treat to see how they supported each other to make the best Ganapathi decoration at home.

The Ganapathi celebrations were not merely restricted to individual homes but organizations, communities, societies came together to install huge sized Ganapathi idols on the streets and observed the festival for days at length, based on the tradition. Ganapathi, being the cool and the fun-loving God that he is, people played music, danced gleefully and arranged a multitude of cultural programs. Truly, Ganapathi festival signified a sense of oneness- beyond the limitations of caste, creed, race, religion, language, region et all.

Anjali shook herself to be back to reality. Anjali had completed the Ganapathi festival in the presence of her loving family in the morning. It was the first Ganapathi festival in her new home located overseas, thousands of miles away from India. Tears had already welled up in her eyes. Anjali became utterly emotional reminiscing Lord Ganapa’s birthday back home.

Someone knocked on the door; Anjali rushed to attend the visitor. A bunch of young men were at the door. Little did Anjali know that she was in for a big surprise.

“We are from the ABC association. We have a tradition of celebrating Ganesh festival here; we wanted to know if you were keen on volunteering for the same. We invite all the Indians in the community. We want to not miss being home and hence we recreate our Ganesh festival mood here.”

Anjali's happiness knew no bounds. She screamed in joy. She immediately gestured a victory sign. The visitors were sure thrilled to see her so joyous and accepted her consent. They informed that they would pass on the details from time to time.

Anjali sank in her chair after the visitors left. Anjali thanked her dear Ganapathi. She shared the news with her family and told them that the visitors included not only Indians but people from other nationalities too. She remembered how, a bunch of people came to her home in India too, prior to the festival, much before indeed, and asked for small funds and volunteering too. Anjali was getting to relive it all!

Ganapathi had always blessed Anjali with whatever she had desired and dreamt of. She would pray fervently to the sweet Lord before any event, including but not limited to the days of the exam, for the job interviews, before she left for her first overseas trip and before she made the decision to marry and when she had to buy her home. Well, even when she had the slightest doubt about the weather before venturing out; she would run quickly to Lord Ganapathi, in her prayer room and ask her questions. During the days of rain, and sunshine, the Lord had never left her abandoned. He assured her of his protection.

In all honesty, Ganapathi had given away Anjali more than she could imagine and sometimes, more than she deserved. Honest and sincere actions and intentions were the only gifts that were asked in return. Even on that particular day, Ganapathi had come in the form of the visitors and told about the festival to Anjali.

“Ganapathi is the best.” Anjali murmured to herself. A millionth time in her lifetime. Anjali later went back to the sacred space and watched the street for a long time. By the window, this time around, she smiled broadly.