The last of our morning Vinayaka Pandal visits was to the one at the very end of Vanniar St, one block from the seashore. We are told that it is the oldest pandal of town, 47 years old. This year they have Vinayaka in gym-going demon-slaying form, called by everyone the “Six-pack Vinayaka”. And indeed not only Vinayaka, but the demon and the not-so-little Mushika all display a most chiselled physique. At the pandal, we find two boys playing with a small clay Vinayaka, applying vibhuti and kunkumam on Him. Reminds us of playing with choppu sets.
We reflect on how these are ways in which the neighbourhood supports and brings up its children, even if nobody from the neighbourhood is always present. It seems, and one indeed hopes so, that these events have the effect of firmly grounding and rooting the kids. Not just by bringing the neighbourhood together, but by giving the boys a focal point in religion – albeit with plenty of liberty to adapt the deity to the boys’ own natures and inclinations. It remains nonetheless a distinct connection of the boys with the religious and cultural tradition. The total cost of Vinayaka is based on footage (2000/- we heard?).
The Vinayaka pandals and the journey of pujas and rituals outward from temples to streets is much thanks to Bal Gangadhar Tilak. We had some thoughts about how the temple would have been the centre of social and economic life back in the day. How values emanated from the temple, shaped the social life around it, and came back to the temple as positive donations.
Some thoughts on how the Vinayaka pandals today are quite excessive in scale, and not always aware of the ecological impact of their decisions and practices. Some thoughts also on the aesthetics of these “mega” Vinayakas, and the lack of meaning and cultural context in the veneration of these.