It’s
that time of year again in Mumbai – the papers tomorrow will be full of pics
like the ones below (note – none of these pics are mine, have just copied them
from various online sites).
For me, images very different from the ones
in these pics define the dahi-handi festival in Mumbai. These are the large
dahi-handis, where there’s huge prize money at stake and large crowds gather to
watch the well-practised, almost- professional mandals break the handi. Sure,
that has its own charm, but it’s too crowded and too organised. The fun is more in walking about in
the typical Maharashtrian residential areas (think Dadar, Prabhadevi, Girgaum) and
watching the spirited – but-clumsy assaults on the smaller neighbourhood handis;
the colour, the energy, the enthusiasm, the zaniness and of course since this
is in India, the noisy celebrations with the naankhatai bands. (Yes, Mr. and
Mrs. Glass-is-always-half-empty, there’s crazy chaotic traffic too, we are like
this only ! )
Consider these zany band-baajaa guys
accompanying a mandal in Prabhadevi. The guy managing the music is an artist
and wants recognition from the world at large, not for him the wild drumming
and standard tune of ‘Govinda Aaalaa Re’,
his sensitive soul wants to play unusual music that matches the mood of the
moment. So while the human pyramid is being built layer by layer, he plays s l o
w, suspenseful, and if truth be told, slightly mournful music, almost
encouraging them to topple - think ‘jeena yahaan marna yahaan.
The music picks up pace a bit as the pyramid forms, but only after the handi is
broken does the music switch to a lively instrumental rendition of ‘piya tu ab tho aajaa’.
Kids from the mandal and the neighbouring
houses do their own crazy jig of happiness to the music – no choreographed
dance sequence in a Bollywood phillum can capture the energy and zing of kids
with wide smiles plastered on their faces dancing energetically and not bothering
about the wet mud that their feet are churning up and that is splattering all
over their legs. Yes, the mud in the maidan is a squelchy mess thanks to water
being sprayed over the victorious mandal and onlookers every time a handi
breaks. Other places people looking out from the balconies of houses on upper
floors liberally fling out mugs of water forcing pedestrians to look sharp,
walk fast and dodge smartly.
Politics and displaying organisational prowess is of course a part of this festival. Many handis are sponsored by political
leaders, these ones have a big stage near the handi, music blaring from
loudspeakers and a guy with a microphone announcing things. In one area, the
political jostling for visibility resulted in the handis of the Shiv Sena and
the MNS almost cheek-by-jowl; of course, egos dictated that neither could allow
the other to even seem to be getting the upper hand / more attention, resulting
in an inordinate din caused by playing two music systems and making two sets of
announcements simultaneously. One of them gave me the most incongruous
sound-byte of this year’s festival though, they played the instrumental version
of ‘main jat yamla pagla deewanaa' as one pyramid went up, a bit rich from a party that’s stated anti-outsider
feelings quite often.
The format at these handis was also
different; not any team could take a go at the handi; to be allowed to make the
attempt was itself a tortuous process. First each team would stand in front of
the stage and make the pyramid as high as they could, and the kid on top would
salute the handi. Only teams whose pyramids were higher than a certain
threshold level were allowed to have a go at the handi.
In contrast to this are my favourite neighbourhood
small handis which are all about everyone having fun. One wadi in Prabhadevi
totally gets this fun bit, and ensures that they don’t dent either the
confidence or good spirits of any mandal. So after a pyramid has collapsed once
or twice, in the very Indian spirit of mutual understanding, slight adjustment and thoda relaxing of criteria, one
gentleman slinks away, loosens the rope that keeps the handi aloft, feeds it
out and brings the handi a bit lower. Sometimes the coordination is a bit lax
and this easing of target becomes obvious; imagine the third layer of the
pyramid climbing up and the handi simultaneously descending by an equivalent amount
– looks rather ridiculous right ? Not supposed to make it this obvious to
onlookers, mama, ‘imij’ ka kya hoga ??
One thing I’m really glad to see this year
is the helmet on the head of the tiny guy that’s on top of the human pyramid.
Two years ago, the only helmet that I saw adorned the head of a little girl from the
Agripada Mahila Govinda Mandal. This time around, most of the little boys could be seen wearing the helment too.
And to end this post, a description of the
defining image of this year’s dahi-handi celebrations. As one group breaks the
handi, their pyramid starts to topple and people slowly start falling off the top layers while
the guys in the lower layers try to catch them and break their fall. A few
seconds and all from the higher layers are down safely. And then a guy from the
second layer deliberately topples
over backwards into the waiting hands of his team-mates, a huge smile on his
face, hands waving in the air keeping time to the music. Satisfaction
personified !
By,
Zen
