The Ocean’s Blues
On June 12, 2014, I drove through Cadell Road flooded with sea water awash in garbage. I realized that people
would soon be booking their orders for the larger sarvajanik Ganapatis, in time for the start of the festive season
at the end of August. The picture in the papers on June 13, were evocative of a living creature that was spewing
up an indigestible meal from the depths of its belly. I was moved to writing this piece, appealing to our people to
think of the plight of the sea when booking their Ganapatis. After all, Mumbai is in the coastal zone and we live
at the mercy of the sea - it behooves us to show consideration towards her
On the shore, pieces of half digested
Ganesha murthis mixed with the crap that nearby slum dwellers had deposited
that morning. It shamed the ocean to see
what it had been forced to do, but the discomfort in its belly had left it with
no choice. It just couldn’t have borne
the pain any longer.
And as the ocean tried to digest what remained
in its belly, it ruminated on what had brought it to this sorry state of tummy
sickness ….
Once upon a time, it remembered the beach
used to be a quiet place, where people came to enjoy the evening breeze and
brought their children to play. Sure, nearby
slum dwellers used the rocky outcrops on the beach to do their morning business
back then also. But the ocean could
handle that – after all, it believed in the maxim of “dust to dust”. Organic matter did not give it a tummy ache –
in fact, it fed some of the marine life it housed. Hearing activists scream at people doing
their morning business on the shore, and then having those same activists come
and drop chunks of plaster of Paris in its tummy made the ocean snarl at the
hypocrites. How it wished it could speak
in the human tongue and tell them so
As the ocean continued to spasm gently with
the indigestible mass in its tummy, it wondered when this practice of dropping
huge big chunks of plaster of Paris in it had started. After much thought, it remembered. It was somewhere around the time when people
used to shout slogans against the British Rule.
It remembered hearing the name of Bal Gangadhar Tilak, who used
something called Sarvajanik worship in the bylanes of Pune to break down
ancient caste barriers and unite people to fight for independence from the
British. Clever Tilak – he had realized
way back then that this was a work around the then prevalent British ban on
public gatherings. And so, the practice
had caught the imagination of a nation (or at least, Maharashtra) and the
annual event had taken on a life of its own
The ocean thought it didn’t mind at
first. After all, it understood the need
for an “India for Indians” and was willing to do its bit for the cause. But why was it continuing now? As it understood it, it was now many years
since the British had left the country.
Why then was this circus continuing – nay, growing?
The ocean forced its aching head to figure
out this puzzle. The sickness was making
it irritable and unable to focus its thoughts, but it did want to get to the
bottom of this mystery. It shook its
head to clear it and the people on the shore shouted to see the spray flying up
from what they perceived as an extra huge wave.
And with the shout, it was like a light bulb went on in the mind of the
ocean
But of course, it was still those ruthless
political manipulators using the excuse of a religious extravaganza to mobilize
people and funds. Some of them were politicians
in local or central governance, while others used these events to achieve positions
of power in community forums. And as the
master psychologists they were, they offered pomp and show, a display of
religious fervor along with the promise of free food as “Prasad” and the
opportunity to enjoy shortened work days in the name of worship.
The ocean knew it had hit the nail on its
head. Ouch! It felt like there were multiple nails in its
head. As it held its head and groaned,
out popped a sharp edged decoration that had been designed to look like the
rays of the sun or a halo behind some murthi or the other
Happy at having figured out the puzzle, the
ocean decided to rest a while. It
noticed a group of agitated people at one end of the beach and decided to offer
them the calming influence of a surging and ebbing tide at their feet. It gradually crept towards the group and
noticed that they appeared to be cops in uniform. It could not help but listen to their
conversation as it tried to soothe their agitation
And what it heard was this – “Have you
heard? There are rumours that a
terrorist group has entered the city and is planning to plant a series of bombs
at various Ganesha mandals. The ATS
doesn’t know where all to plant their plainclothes men and detection squads –
there are so many pandals in so many places.
What is worse, if an incident occurs someplace, the access roads are so
chock a block with pandals, there is no way for any Emergency Response Team to
make it to the place in a hurry. Or for
that matter, get any victims out of danger and to medical assistance”
And the next guy said – “Forget that. I was on traffic duty yesterday and it was
horrible. Traffic was crawling along,
and all because vehicles were slowing down on the flyover to have a peak at the
Ganesha pandal visible from there. There
were any number of minor collisions, and of course the moment a vehicle was
involved in a collision, both the drivers and passengers forgot all about
Ganesha and started fighting about who was at fault. I tell you, I could not for the life of me
spot the divinity in man while I tried to resolve about 10 fights yesterday”
“Fighting is one aspect”, said the third
guy. “Our station head was grumbling
about the diesel budget for the month.
Seems with all this slow moving traffic, we’re getting barely ½ the
mileage we normally get on all our police vehicles. If this is what we achieve with our flashing
lights, driving on the wrong side of the road and / or pavement at times, I
wonder what these civilians manage to get with their vehicles”
The first guy weighed in – “I bet that’s
why they chose this time to raise petrol and diesel prices. People’s travel increases to get from 1
pandal to another. Plus their mileage
decreases due to the traffic woes. I’m
sure all the petrol pumps are making a killing this month. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they start
running dry unless the distributors increase their refill service frequency”
“Yeah, and then the politicians can all
talk about the cost of oil and the balance of payments. Bah, what humbugs they all are”
“Don’t talk to me about politicians. I had one visit the pandal where I was on
duty yesterday. And to make sure he drew
enough crowds, he brought a shapely young Bollywood star with him. You would not believe the kind of Z-class
security that accompanied him and how much chaos it created in the pandal. You were talking about the rumours of
terrorist activity earlier? I am telling
you, those guys could easily have entered the pandal in the midst of all this
chaos and done anything they wanted to do.
There is absolutely no way we can plug every possible avenue at times
like this”
While its belly was more at ease now, the
ocean was more upset than before. It
felt its shoulders droop and its head hang as it quietly withdrew from the
shore. And as it withdrew, the people on
the shore cried out at the amount of debris that was revealed and how the tide
had gone out further than ever before
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