This post is dedicated to my unfulfilled vipralambha urge for sleep. My morning dozing, afternoon sleep and the prospect of a good night's sleep have been interrupted by real and imagined drums.
And I think fake tutaris should be restricted to birthday parties in private, soundproof quarters.
Ganesha is really, really worried. Some of the things that happened to him today are:
Random vibrating drums - Ganesha does not want to be accused of causing an earthquake. Drops of dhinchik dhinchik are setting off the seismic plate under the ocean.
Himesh Reshammiya - I really see how 'aashiq banaya' is apt, but Himesh?!
What I thought was 'Jai Bhavani' - Ganesha is very secular, but like all famous people, he is also very narcissistic. He appreciates the respect you show his mother and aunts, but how would you feel if someone sang 'happy birthday' to your mother on your birthday? Which is why he was beginning to resent the overemphasis on the family tree.
Then, as it turned out, my worries about Ganesha's injured self-esteem were unfounded. My sister pointed out I had much ground to cover when it came to interpreting aural signals. The song in question, she explained, was 'Hai Jawaani'. So Ganesha is happy again, because they are telling him how he is in that subliminally perennial state of youth. I can see him shaking his trunk and a leg (when he is not sitting) and snorting 'hai jawaani, hai jawaani'.
Nadaswaram - Why are you ending Ganesha's innings as the flippant, naughty little creature who beats up his father because the latter tried to interrupt the mother's bath? A staunch mama's boy, Ganesha must always be single and ready to mingle.
Fake tutaris - Because they sound like elephants, interrupted. Asthmatic elephants. Ghastly choking-writhing-spluttering elephants. Ganesha does not subscribe to the misrepresentation of his ilk. Any publicity is not good publicity.
For next year, Ganesha says he will bring his own music.