It was a glorious day. A
beautiful morning. And she was ten years old today. Ten! How wonderful.
She jumped out of her bed and
raced downstairs to her father’s workshop.
“I am ten today!” she squealed and
launched herself into the idol-maker’s mud splattered arms. His days began
early, with the festival just a month away. She could see the goddess coming
alive. Those big, beautiful (and slightly intimidating) eyes just waiting to be
painted open.
“Yes, you are. A big, big girl now”,
her father smiled and tapped her nose.
“You remember your promise? You
do? You do?” She hoped that he did. It was something that she had dreamt of all
her life. And its fulfilment seemed so long in coming.
Her father’s smile deepened. Carrying
her in his arms, he walked to a corner of the workshop, where something lay
covered under a tarp. He set her down and pushed her forward.
“Go on. Pull off the cover.”
She first turned, with a smile
beaming and blew a kiss. Then with a flourish, she pulled off the cover.
There stood the bamboo structure
of a miniature idol. And next to it, sat a basket of clay. The same clay that
the idol-maker used to create gods and goddesses.
“Thank you! Thank you”, she first
shouted and then whispered. Finally she could also make her own goddess.
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The goddess was so beautiful in
her home. And what a home it was. Shaped like an iridescent lotus, with the
lightest pink deepening into a glowing mauve. The goddess herself sat amongst dark purple
stamen that rose out of the lotus’ centre, while the lotus floated in a pond of
mirrored flowers. The leaves that shaded the goddess, started at the base of
the lotus and were a work of art by themselves.
She was so proud. Proud of her
father who had made the goddess and her uncles who had created her home.
And she was proud of herself. Because
next to the goddess, sat a slightly misshapen but actually perfect miniature
version of the goddess. And she had created this goddess.
One day, this goddess would grow
as big, as strong, as powerful as her father’s. She will just have to protect
the young goddess, bring her up the way her father was bringing his daughter
up.
Today was the last day of the
festival. She knew what happened today though she had never seen it with her
own eyes.
“On this day, the goddess returns
to her divine palace”, the idol-maker had explained to his four-year old,
inconsolable daughter, many years ago. “But she will be back next year. Don’t
cry, darling.”
“Where are all these men taking
her, then?”
“She needs the shoulders of these
strong men to find her way back, you see.”
“I can help, too.”
“When you are older, maybe.”
And today, finally, she was old
enough to help the goddess on her return journey. With the older goddess, her
young goddess also had to go, her father had explained. She was sad about that
but next year, they would all return. And her own goddess would have grown
bigger by then. The thought excited her.
The contingent reached the edge
of the river and down went the goddess.
“No!” she screamed. They were
drowning the goddess. They were murdering her. How would she return if she
died.
The idol-maker lifted her. “It’s
okay. Her path goes through water.”
“No, you are lying. You are
killing her.”
“I am not, child. That is the way
of the world. You are all grown now, aren’t you? Ten years old. Practically a
lady. You have to learn the ways of the world.” With these words, he gently
pried the small goddess from his daughter’s fingers and let go of the statue
into the water.
The young girl stood, silent,
mute. Her goddess sank into the muddy water, not even putting up a fight.
Slowly, the girl walked away from
the murderous river. She was an adult now.
Photo source: http://espiritokashi.wordpress.com/2011/10/15/the-story-behind-visarjan-immersion-ceremony/ |