SFV Celebrates Ganesh Puja

Ganapati Bappa Morya, or Om Shree Ganeshaya Namaha. That is what I should pray before attempting to cover our function that I couldn’t attend in full.

Nonetheless, here is imagination running riot for the missing portions. Lord Ganesha had agreed to descend to Sobha Forestview on Sunday morning disregarding His host of other commitments. Playing a welcoming note on Nadaswaram with a foot tapping beat on the percussion instrument, the deity was accompanied from Gate 1 to MPH Hall by men and women devotees attired in traditional clothes, not excluding Mysore silk, Kancheepuram silk, crepe silk, or simple but graceful cotton sarees by women, and equally matching silk dhoti with golden- or peacock-eyed border dhotis and angavastram by the menfolk. The procession halted at regular intervals and those accompanying it enjoyed some of the best notes on Nadaswaram with the burly middle-aged men playing tavil with gusto.

At MPH2 where the deity was to be installed awaited a larger gathering, some sticking their neck out to see where the procession had reached and how soon or late it will reach the venue. Yet others, fear of losing their seats for a vantage view of puja and other rituals to follow, preferred to guess it from the decibel of Nadaswaram. The morning function over with puja and prasadam distribution, some headed to the flea market for a dekho, while others chose to club it with the evening’s cultural programme. 

Earlier, on Saturday evening when we reached the lawns, musical chair was in progress. It was nice to see women of all ages taking part in it. When the number thinned down to 10 or 12 in the process of elimination, I made a mental guess on who might be the winner. I asked Aunty casually who might make it. Believe me, she pointed at the same lady - and lo she was the winner in the end. Some who are into mild gambling on these occasions might think of summoning our services to spot the possible winner to make some easy money. We should hasten to advise them that this was a pure chance, and first time.

We went around the stalls. I felt a slight discomfort passing by the stalls situated on the elevation of the lawns. We had to stand on the slope to look in. We deliberately skipped that stall where we feared our little secured investments might get disturbed by the marketing gimmicks of that financial institution. Yes, we are highly gullible. Also, we desisted from tasting the samples of various food products. We didn’t want to add to our inventory. Already we find it difficult to deplete our Coimbatore-trip stock.

On Sunday, 24 September, too we could join the function only in the evening. We had to be part of a Koti Vishnu Sahasranamam chant planned pan India. In SFV, my neighbour Hari-Geetha, 3192, had requested the SFV Vedic Group members to chant it twice from 11.30 to 12.30 pm so that we could add a modest 40 000 to the one crore chant. This was followed by lunch that Geetha had prepared - all by herself, politely declining assistance or potluck arrangement from others.

We rushed to the visarjan ceremony parade as soon as we heard the first beat of Dhol Tashe. It was irresistible.  We enjoyed watching the merriment all around where men and women of all ages danced with gay abandon. The mutka-todh ceremony was interesting, as also the tug of war by children. The prasadam kit was mouth-watering.

On way back, my friend asked me, “So we can expect a blog some time by tonight?” “I am afraid I have no locus standi to write a piece on a function I didn’t attend in full,” I replied. “Maybe, you can do one minus what you missed,” he quipped, unrelenting.

Heartiest congratulations Binita Prasad, Vaishali, and others for organizing such a wonderful event. Three cheers.

Reunion, Rejuvenation, Rest and Recuperation

All my siblings have moved to a senior home in Coimbatore in four apartments. We have been under constant pressure to move in, for two reasons: one, the whole family will be in one complex – so near yet so far; two and more important, so that we buy a vehicle together and go places. Good idea. However, our bonding with SFV has become so strong that we do the next best – hurry to Coimbatore at the slightest pretext, for a family reunion. This time we took our friend and his wife too.

Our visit coincided with Onam, Yajurveda Upakarma, and Janmashtami. In the Auditorium with cushioned chairs and five-star chandeliers illuminating it golden yellow, it was a feast for the eyes to see the senior ladies dancing Ona Kali donning off-white sarees with golden border; men in their 80s singing old numbers with no discordant notes whatsoever; a lady tracing the origin of Onam, yet another with no knowledge of Malayalam singing a Malayalam number, and so on. Nice to watch an all-Senior show, as also to see menfolk move around attired in clothes reserved for occasions. The only snag was that whenever they passed by instead of sharing the fragrance of Armani, Hugo Boss or the local Fogg, one felt the smell of Bengal Chemicals’ naphthalene balls.

On each visit my siblings unfailingly coax me to visit the latest project of the builder. This time it was their third phase with villas, and 1- 2-, and 3-BHK apartments under construction. Each villa has an independent lift in the drawing room that takes you to first floor and the terrace. The balcony, fitted with the traditional solid-wood swing faces the coconut grove in the immediate vicinity and mountain a little ahead – too tempting. But we resisted it this time too.

Both my sisters are great shoppers – for others. They know where you get good cotton sarees, daily-wear sarees, which lady sells from home very good bedsheets at moderate rates or, which restaurant stops supply of bonda and bajji at 5 pm so that we must rush before that…. Both the Bangalore ladies did so much justice to textile shopping that the counter-assistant ordered coffee twice. As usual, menfolk carried the bags on both hands, praying for more hands, adhering simultaneously to the instructions to keep the bills safe just in case an exchange was necessary.

They say Indians have the herd mentality. A month ago one sister, her daughter-in-law and her daughter from USA, underwent a week’s rejuvenation therapy at a well-known Ayurvedic Centre situated in the middle of the forest near Aana Katti. She persuaded us, the Bangalore four, also to experience it, if not for 7 days, at least for 3 days. We were skeptical for fear of falling off the oil-floating table, or uncertain if we could withstand the full-strength massage of the young paramedics, that too in the first batch when full energy is at their beck and call. But we succumbed to my sister’s persuasion.  All the four enjoyed all the sessions in those three days. We were prepared for the minimal food supply those three days, if only we would shed some kilos. Yes, I did – 500 gm.  

For return trip too we engaged a one-way taxi. Before leaving Bangalore my friend had suggested each one of us to select 20-30 favourite songs in any language which he would put together and play during the trip. Needless to mention there were many songs which more than one person had selected by coincidence. On the return trip the driver, a young man, had his own collection to listen to as he waited for his next trip.  He played them too. All of them had that rich, innocent and welcome rural flavour.  

A trip well spent, said the ladies. “Both in time and shopping-spree,” added the menfolk in jest, side-glancing their spouses.