Ganeshotsava

I put myself into a non KMC associated Mangalorean layman/outsider's shoes. It is past midnight. I see that the campus is buzzing with activity. I smell incense. I hear merry chatter of young boys and girls as they are making arrangements for the next day's pooja. Floral decoration, rangoli, plantain stems, mango leaves, bright marigolds all around. I hear Bryan Adams keeping them company. (This is not Rehman advertising for World Space.) I see a couple sharing a joke as they are putting up the banners. A student friendly (over friendly actually) professor is not only ok about it but haves a laugh too.

It would have definitely amused me, to say the least if I were in his place. Forget about other hostels, colleges. For my own standards this place is pretty unorthodox, liberal.

The temple lake where the idol is immersed the next day is around 5km from college. The procession itself makes up to a quarter km. It is headed by a truck carrying the generator, followed by another truck which has the 6 feet long speakers and the DJ, student folk from various faculties- medicine, dentistry, phisiotherapy, both under-graduates and post-graduates, professors, an authentic & traditional Dakshina Kannada band, followed last by the best decorated, biggest truck carrying the idol.

There are times when you lift a foot off the ground to adjust the back strap of the sandal and then you do not get enough earth to place it back. Like the sultry weather isn't unpleasant enough, the humans add on to the heat. Along with the humungous crowd, geekiest of the geeks, shiest of introverts also promenade on to the streets and groove away inhibitionlessly to the music blasted.

You wouldn't understand what Ganesha has to do with rock music, item numbers and catchy remixes. As though the DJ just read your mind, he would stop in between and make the crowd shout slogans in praise of Him in unison.

Junior, senior, student, professor, male, female, everybody enjoys alike. If you look around you might spot a professor dancing with his kid daughter on his shoulders, the scary unit head smiling back broadly at you. All with tilaks and head bands, dressed outdoorsy for the occasion. This time we shook a leg with our teacher who had taught us in first year. He was bubbling with enthusiasm. He showed us some moves. I couldn't stop laughing. I think he saw. But WTH, nobody minds anything this day. By the end of it he gave us high-fives.

When you get weary, best is to watch the onlookers' expressions. Passengers in local buses, poeple who come out of their shops, the police who guard us. Fussing babies are carried to the balconies by their mothers. Medical students going insane on the roads. I feel like asking one of them what they think about the whole thing.

At apt times there are these unexpected showers. This is the best I like about the coastal weather. It washes away the fatigue and you are filled with double the zeal.

Alumni, if they happen to be in town would usually join. To refresh their memories I guess. Talking about nostalgia, You change the brand of your deodorant. After a long time you get back to the previous one. Along with the fragrance, the memory of events accompanying that phase also comes back. Ever happened to you?

Finally after the task is completed, the staff would have arranged for the transportation to get back to our respective hostels. It is so 'as a matter of fact'. Like it is natural for us to have dance extravaganzas at 1 am in the morning on the streets.

The next day we utilise the thoroughly deserved 'shouting holiday'.

PS: I know 'campus' would get a lot of us touchy.