…with a heavy heart and aching legs. Not that one minded. One does not. One actually sobs with no sense of decorum during the visarjaan, provoking the child to ask one why one is crying, and who needs to be pummelled to put things right with my world. We hadnt done the regular shennanigan of inviting everyone we knew this year, partly due to the swine flu scare and partly due to the fact that we’ve been under the weather collectively this past month. Nonetheless, the crowds were there on day one. And it was a blessing to see so many coming for a darshan of our Ganapati. And I wore the red saree. Needed something slimming given that I have lost all rights to wear tissue and other such unforgiving fabrics that flare out and are meant for women who need extra bulking up in order to seem substantial and not ethereal. Reserving the green gold for Diwali. By which time, I hope I get to ethereal, collar bone showing levels.
And yes, will do it all over again the next year, with greater joy!