I was only ten
When we went to Katharagama
The four wheels were rolling ceaselessly
In a never-ending journey
Along the parched, brown earth
Exhausted – just like us
On the way to Katharagama
When boredom strikes so hard
As the sweltering sun roasted us
I stretched my hand to turn on the FM radio
And a glare from the front seat stupefied me
‘NO Baila Music’ Amma retorted
‘We are on a pilgrimage, not on a Baila trip’
Us, clad in white – piety incarnate
No dead animals had gone down to our tummies
In seven whole days
Us – the epitome of devotion
The four wheels were rolling endlessly
In a never-ending journey
Along the parched, brown earth
Exhausted – just like us
On the way to Katharagama
2
Flags of white and red and orange and yellow
Flapping on the roadside beside the little shops
Teeming with devotees like us
Who have stopped for a bite of hot hot wadei
And a steaming cup of ginger plain-tea
On the way to Katharagama
Shoving me a five hundred note
Amma said ‘Buy anything you want.’
Exuberant I wandered along the little street shops
Glancing at the sundry delicacies of sweets and plastic toys
Until something strange caught my eye
‘GODS FOR SALE’ – written on a name board
And childhood curiosity drove me in
THERE! I found
The heaven had descended to the earth
On wooden shelves veiled with dust motes
Lies hundreds of Gods
All staring back at me…
Some were blue
Some were black
Some were white
And some were gold
‘Who you want?’ asked the shopkeeper.
3
‘I…I don’t know. Who are they?’
‘Murugan!…You not KNOW?’
I shook my head
And he rattled on their names.
‘The great Rama with his bow
And the blue Krishna with his flute
Ganesh with the head of an elephant
And the little mouse, His vehicle
Goddess Saraswathi holding the veena
And Shiva with the cobra
The Lord Vishnu – the creator of the universe
And Lakshmi beside Pattini – the goddess of fertility
And finally
God Skanda – with His plumage of peacock eyes…’
‘Now, tell what you want, boy.’
Spurting words of childhood ignorance, I asked
‘Who can pass my scholarship?’
Biting his lower lip and frowning at the shelf
He finally said ‘Ganesh
He is the God of knowledge and wisdom.’
‘Perfect, let me buy Him.’
I said, jubilance gleaming in my eyes
But…
Things became more complicated
As he laid three Ganeshs on the table
4
‘Which size you want?’
‘Huh?’
‘Small one, medium one or Big one?’
‘Which one is good?’ I asked raising an eyebrow.
‘The bigger the better.’
His eyes rolled maliciously
As he enjoyed my childhood naivety
‘Then, I’ll buy him. How much is He?’
‘Oh! Boy The small one is five hundred
The medium one is thousand
And the Big one is three thousand.’
My hopes sank
To the bottom end of despair
Flipping the five hundred note between my fingers
Depressed, I finally replied,
‘Give me the Little Ganesh’
Offering him the five hundred note
I watched him wrapping little Ganesh
In a discarded newspaper
And then thrusting into a shopping bag
‘Here you are boy.
Don’t forget to pray…everyday
And He will pass you.’
He shouted behind my back
As I clasped Little Ganesh close to me
Comforting myself
5
After all, scholarship is a little exam
I’ll buy the Big one for my A level
With that little self-promise
I climbed on to our vehicle
And back on our way to Katharagama
The four wheels were rolling ceaselessly
In a never-ending journey
Along the parched, brown earth
Exhausted – just like us
On the way to Katharagama