Where Gods Dwell

As I write this post, people across the country are bidding adieu to their favourite god – Ganpati bapa. Meanwhile, I go a li’l back in time to share with you some glimpses from the lives of the people who make these beautiful idols in the city of Ahmedabad.

Welcome to Gulbai Tekra. More often than not, people remember it as the slum around one of the most commercial areas in the city. But come Ganesh Chaturthi and the otherwise filthy area turns into a heaven – literally. Suddenly you begin to see the gods everywhere - in every corner, peeping out from every door and even standing in the middle of the road! For here lives the community that is best known for making Ganesha idols.

I made my trip just before the festival set in and captured some images that convey what makes this place so special.

Artisans put up make-shift camps at every corner and line up their idols, which are made from huge moulds.

The surface is smoothened and then paints are applied with the help of a spraying machine.

 

The sight of the idol going from white to colour is quite something.

Unlike earlier, idols nowadays are made from Plaster of Paris. Though it makes the process much faster and cheaper, the material doesn’t dissolve in water, causing pollution during Visarjan.

Make it or break it - it's all in our hands...

While men do the major paint job, women help in beautifying it further by painting the accessories.

What comes as the final product is absolutely stunning.

And these are not just the usual Ganpati forms. The artisans take full creative liberty in giving the gods any form that appeals to the devotees. So while you see a sai baba ganpati in one corner you’ll see a swami ganpati in another. Looks like a fancy dress competition to me where our sole hero is switching characters every now and then.

A family invites me to their home to take more pictures – they think I’m a journalist. They take me through some narrow lanes and into their house. I’m greeted by kids and women, giggling and shying away when they see a camera in my hand.  

Inside, more idols await to be greeted.

I take a walk around the little house and find creativity in every corner.

I keep the camera aside and move around the house; there’s always more to be seen than captured. By the time I leave, I’ve absorbed much more than what I’d expected.

It’s not so much about the place, but the people who live here...

You see a sense of pride in whatever they do...

You find joy reflected through their eyes…

You feel more than welcome, though you are a stranger…

Perhaps that’s the reason even the gods dwell here

It’s not about the place, it’s the people…

I'm fine...

Shocked. Terrified. Angry.

Still not able to come to terms with the terror that shook Ahmedabad. Just wanted all of you to know that I’m fine.

A whole new world

I am of the opinion that as an outsider you take a closer look at a city than you would as an insider.


21 years in Ahmedabad v/s just 3 years in Pune. I think I can talk more about the later than the former - not a fact that I’m particularly proud about. So last week, with the hope of knowing more about my city, I took a heritage walk in the old city of Ahmedabad.

Organized by the Gujarat government, this walk takes you through the labyrinth corners of the vicinity where the city originated. In these lanes, time stands still and each building narrates the story of the grandeur of the bygone era.

We started with the house of Kavi Dalpatram. This bronze statue sits at the entrance.

The two hour walk takes you through various ‘pols’ – the self-contained neighbourhoods, some of which are virtually small villages. In olden days, these pols were protected by gates and secret passages.

An old woodden door that caught my eye

Today, when you walk through its narrow streets, you cannot help standing in awe before these architectural wonders.

A traditional bird-feeder known as a 'chabutara'


These carved out pieces that adorn every house here bear the influence of various cultures. While the floral pattern is a Persian influence, the presence of angels is very European.

This one bears a chinese influence

And then you enter these Jain temples where gods carved out from wood some 400 years ago still retain their luster and glory!

Some pics taken from outside the temple

Inside a particular house, it looks just like a ‘chal’, only that it’s bigger and grander. Some of these houses still accommodate huge Jain families (some 80-100 people).

In those days, it was a matter of pride for the family members that their girl child is educated. They'd place such small statues on the main door to indicate that.
Amidst these lanes also lies the tomb of the man who built this city – Ahmad Shah. (He was only 20 when he built it!) The intricate designs on the walls that surround it are beautifully carved out.

The city was systematically divided. There was the residential area called pols and the commercial area called ols. The markets of the old city are still the biggest markets in Ahmedabad and here you’ll find every damn thing you have on your list!

A banner with a typo that caught my attention

The walk ended at the Jama Masjid. It was the first time I entered a mosque and the feeling was overwhelming. The huge central area is surrounded by walls where some urdu words are painted.

The central area

The soothing Urdu script

To say that the central dome is a work of beauty would be an understatement. The 500+ pillars within the mosque give rise to an interesting play of shadow and light. I just had to close my eyes and say ‘Allah’ in my heart to feel one with Him.

One of my favourite pics from the day

I wondered, how many people know this facet of Ahmedabad. How many even care to? And as I type this I wonder if it would be fair to even call it the old city. In those couple of hours, what I discovered was a complete new city.

Shaival and me :)

Thanks Shaival for your wonderful company. Thanks Om for helping me out in posting the pictures.
P.S. - You can see some beautiful pictures of Ahmedabad pols here.

The first mistake

A little mistake and everything goes for a toss. All the goodwill that you've earned washes away in a nano-second. You look at yourself and ask, 'how the hell didn't i notice that mistake'. They look at you and say, 'we didn't expect this from you'. So what are you supposed to do. Say sorry is the first thing that comes to mind but that doesn't solve anything. Next you accept your mistake and promise that such a thing wouldn't happen again. Peace enters the room but you just can't come over the fact that you missed that silly mistake. The clean slate you had all this while shows a mark. And no matter how small it is, its so evident. It's right there, in front of you.

Damn...how could i miss that.

Artistic Expressions

And i thought candle light dinners were supposed to be romantic! :)

I wonder what the visualiser must have thought of when he selected this particular font for 'candle light dinner.' Let me guess - Is he afraid of the dark? Did he watch a horror movie before making this layout? Or did he simply remember the first time he went out for a candle light dinner with his girlfriend, which turned out to be a horrifying experience?

Whatever be the reason, the point is the right font makes all the difference!

Something's missing

6.20 p.m. and she was done with her work. She left the air-conditioned office and headed home. Hot and humid air awaited her outdoors. The sun was still shining and she could see the colour of the buildings, rather than the grayish shades that they put on later in the eve. It looked like a different world.

She got into the car and started her drive. 5 radio stations. Not a single one played a good song. Every two seconds, her finger kept pressing the next button, cursing the producer who didn’t think twice before playing that awful number on such a beautiful evening. Luckily she found a CD to her rescue. An old favourite calmed her restless soul.

Nothing could replicate the magic of old songs, she thought. There was meaning in every word that was written. The music was such that generations later people would still cherish it. Why had it become so difficult to live life in that pace, she wondered.

She wished she could pause her life and enjoy all those things she had not in months. Listen to all her favourite songs and get nostalgic. Read the books she had bought with the hope that she’d read them someday. Make a card for that someone special. Have chai in the garden and watch the birds return home. Call up a friend and talk like there were no tomorrow. Cook something special for her family. Go out for a movie with friends. Write on her blog….

She played the song once again, the lyrics crying out her heart’s desire. Dil dhoondhta hai phir wohi fursat ke raat din...

Life's like that

I hate Fridays. They are like those people you wish to avoid but nonetheless happen to meet at regular intervals. Like a ‘dare’ that befalls on you no matter how strategically you try to play. It’s like what one feels like on reaching the top of the giant wheel. It all looks so beautiful from that height. Everything seems within your reach. But as it slowly descends, the larger picture is lost and all you are left with is that thing which lies immediately before your eyes. It’s exactly the way a Friday begins, giving hope to numerous possibilities. But by the time you plan something, it’s all lost. Whoosh. The ride is over. You have to come back to ground reality and begin the circle of daily routine.

The best things happen on a hunch, like they did the week that went by. A women’s film festival, a photography exhibition, a display of drawings put up by school children and another exhibition of a renowned painter, Nabibaksh Mansuri are the events that made my week. There’s something about the places these activities take place in and the kind of people you see there that gives rise to an emotion that lingers around for quite some time. Suddenly, you feel a part of a community that endorses the aesthetically appealing activities. It gives you a different kind of high; a voice that screams out ‘yeah, this is life man’. To paint a picture with bold strokes on a huge canvas, to capture the myriad human expressions through the lens, to appreciate beauty and have the freedom to express it the way you understand it...That’s life.

Had it not been for media studies, I would have taken up fine arts. I’m reminded of a line from Bob Dylan’s song, “People seldom do what they believe in. They do what is convenient, then repent.”