The realisation that Ganesh Festival, popularly known as Ganesh Chaturthi, is upon us literally hit me at 3 am, Friday morning when I woke up to the blasting music of Bappa Bappa Bappa Bappa, Ganpati Bappa Morya. Till then, I was looking forward to a nice holiday and some Beatles or Simon and Garfunkel. But since Friday, I have been waking up this song every morning, sometime at 6 am and if god blesses us, at 7 am. This ordeal will continue for some time as after Ganesh Chaturthi there will be Durga Puja, Diwali and so on.
While the god’s children blast music the entire day, the moods change. So, Lata or Asha tai’s bhajans and an occasion blast of Ganpati Bappa Morya start the day. By afternoon, the mood turns to Aata Mazhi Satakli (pray, does Ganpati Bappa get angry in the afternoon?) and likes and by evening, Lata or Asha tai and others thankfully again take over.
What is more interesting is the conversion of hit Hindi songs into devotional songs. According to reports, the controversial Bhaag DK Bose from Delhi Belly in its godly avatar has become “Laga bhog, teekey, bhog, teekey, bhog, teekey, bhog”, Munni Badnaam hui is phire mara mara, O Maiya tere liye" and Beedi jalaile has become "Jyoti jalile Maiya ki jia, toh Maiya tere saath hai (who are these brilliant writers?).
What is it about festivals in this country that makes them so noisy? What prompts the average urban Indian to care two hoots about the neighbourhood and blast songs and sermons on highpowered microphones? Recently a church in south Delhi had the guests of a five-star hotel complaining about its dawn service at Easter on loudspeakers.
That’s just the music part. A month before the Ganesh festival, the local group in every mohalla or area lands up for donations (chanda, as they call it). Earlier, they would take any amount. Now, they come with pre-written numbers like Rs 500 on the receipt.
Few years back, a bunch of guys landed up in my place before the Ganpati festival with a similar receipt. I gave them Rs 50. But they insisted on Rs 500. When I stood firm, they promised me prasad (usually fruit and sweets that are presented to the idol). I refused to budge. So before leaving, one of them asked my name.
Ten days later, the same group landed up for a chanda for Durga Puja. I saw them through the keyhole, didn’t open the door and went back to Sounds of Silence.
