The Lead Dancer

It was immersion day and Lord Ganesha was making his way home. Mori Road was busy again. The drums were beating furiously, and the immersion processions began trickling in from early evening. From the time I was a kid big enough to peer over the balcony, I would stand transfixed and watch every procession and its idol making their way through the street. Nothing much has changed till date much to the amusement of my wife and I still stand transfixed on my balcony watching. Of course I have a companion now – my daughter. As the evening wore on as per tradition the smaller idols gave way to bigger ones and the revelry reached a crescendo. Mori Road was alive again. The street was lined with women, children, the young and the old. And, also a blind man.

He stood quietly by the sidewalk. What made him noticeable was that he carried a lot of garlands in his hands and as each procession made it’s way up the road, he hobbled into the middle of the procession and found his way to the idol and garland it. And he kept at this, walking up at regular intervals and garlanding the idols. At times he even clapped to the beat of the drums and joined the chants of “Ganpati Bappa Morya”. The crowds jostled around him and he got pushed around a bit, but he stood his ground.

“I hope he gets what he wants” I thought to myself. He must have garlanded close to twenty five idols and had one more to go. It was late evening now and I could see a fairly large idol and the procession approaching. The drums and cymbals were beating furiously and the lights of the procession lit up the whole street. A mass of heads and hands bobbing up and down in the air with the beat of the drums slowly made their way to the spot under my balcony. It looked like a grand carnival, with floats, turbaned dancers, firecrackers, and then the grand chariot on which the idol was placed. Truly majestic.

I was engrossed and taking it all in. As I waved to the revelers on the road, I noticed the blind man trying to make his way through this sea of people towards the idol. This was the last garland. He had his red and white stick but it was not of much use. He got pushed and shoved around a bit with all the frenzy. Then he stumbled and fell.

Well in our country it often takes someone to fall to get noticed. Someone from the crowd decided to act and started pushing the crowd away from the man. Eventually the larger crowd realized what had happened and gathered around to help the man to his feet. The drummers and the musicians also paused for the commotion to clear. As the man got to his feet he still held up that garland. People listened to him and helped him towards the chariot. Now the idol was really big and mounted pretty high. This was one idol that would be difficult to garland.

Some people helped him up onto the chariot. The rest of the crowd fell silent. They watched as the organizers tried to explain something to the man, but he seemed determined to garland the Lord. Slowly but surely they hoisted him up high enough to reach the necessary height. The priest in the meantime kept shouting directions to the man to get the alignment right for the garland to fall in place. I thought he would never make it. He was pretty unsteady and it had already been a good five minutes now. Then in one final effort he lunged forward and threw the garland across the last one foot he could not cover. And the crowd roared back and cheered in approval. The garland had found its spot.

The man was lowered carefully into the crowd and the drummers started beating the drums again. He was suddenly the hero and people patted his back and shook his hand. As he prepared to exit, some folks pulled him into the middle and began dancing around him. The rest of the crowd followed. He looked up at the heavens and smiled and then began clapping his hands and dancing with them. Someone took his red and white stick, put the procession flag on it and thrust it into his hands. The procession moved forward and I saw him disappear into the sea of heads and hands, the flag at the end of his stick bobbing up and down in the air. The blind man had joined the party and also become the flag bearer, leading Ganesha back home. I could not help smile and headed back to the dinner table.

I guess I made it back just in the nick of time. My wife had been waiting at the table for a while now and looked at me with amusement “What’s so funny? What’s that grin all about?” she said. I replied almost without thinking “You never know when you get invited to the party and when it is your day to lead the dance” This left her even more bewildered. “I think you are tired dear. Have your dinner and hit the bed. You’ll feel better soon.” I nodded in agreement though I wanted to say “It’s not me dear, it’s Mori Road that is strange.”

The pandal across the road is ready again. It is Mahalaya and it always feels good to know that Pujo is around the corner. I could hear the drums in the distance approaching and as the procession came into view, I could see the flags waving and a sea of hands and heads again bobbing up and down to the beat of the drums. I wondered who was leading this one.

I can’t wait to hear the dhak (traditional drums for Durga Puja in Bengal) on Shasthi (the sixth day of the Puja that marks the beginning of the celebrations in Bengal) now. Happy Pujo. I hope you get to party all through the year and if you get your chance to hold the flag and lead the dance, then grab that opportunity. It is probably your calling.

And if any of you want to know more then just come over for a cup of tea on my balcony overlooking the most interesting street in the city. I can assure you that you will not go back disappointed.