I write this as I feel gently irritated through my quiet and unproductive day, forced to overhear the loudspeakers shouting off crass bhajans on the corner of my street junction. This street junction is always made and remade with sets for political campaigning and speeches, festival celebration, public events, street theatre - all this while it doubles up for the everyday as a katta for old people, a reading station, eatery, bus stop, hawking, and so on. But that for another day.
Speaking back to the loudspeakers, I had quite an insight towards the insanely loud music that our festival farewells are accompanied with. Yesterday was the immersion day for those who bring Ganpati for five days during the Ganesh Chathurthi festival in Mumbai. This ritualistic procession towards the immersion is often jubiliant while people ironically chant "Ganpati gela gaavaala, chein pade na aamhaala" literally translated as "The Ganpati goes back to his place, making its people restless." To this thought one questions what precisely holds the sentiment as people organize for orchestras that can play the most upbeat songs from films when seemingly they chant of sorrow. A unique mixture of celebration and catharsis, these processions are full of people dancing, drinking in the blindness of disco lights in the no-place of the street. To a large extent, Ganesha and the festival thereof is a proxy. Much like during its inception by Lokmanya Tilak to bypass authoritarian control over public conversation, the bringing of Ganesha and the festival is an opportunity to do many other things: businessmen network in bringing partners home under the pretext of darshan of the deity, political parties campaign through posters put up around respectively funded street corners, local mandals organise youth to collect money and put together a structure, women socialise and organise their own programmes - all in all, the event is the onset for the festive season in India.
Still drowned into the numerous discordant sounds coming from the diverse directions from the window into my years - which I certainly cannot avoid - all sounds of some form of celebration, I present this short conversation with a stranger that helped me put all of the above in perspective.
"Its bursting loudspeakers here. Midway time visarjan. Ugh. Can't tolerate!"
"I dont like but I can tolerate."
":) You can like it too. [just that] Its decibels should not exceed the max human beings can hear"
"Yes. Wonder what people like about it and they pay for it"
"What have these songs got to do with visarjan? All disco."
"It's become a fest / disco / all nighter for those who cannot afford / or are allowed such things. Such things that are everyday and accessible for many of us bout for some it is luxury or rarity both. Hence I tolerate. But noise pollution yes! That's a downer."
"Ok. That's a very good perspective. You mean to say it's cathartic release for the lower classes?"
"Celebration... also and it is quite an ultimate equaliser for this city. Brings all classes together"
"I am not sure it equalizes class"
"Sab ganpati laate hain...sab visarjan karte hain. A businessman and rikshawala both at Juhu Beach with their families...feeling the same thing"
"Very interesting. Sure. I buy that!"