dressed in gleaming white, and the women robed in saffron and magenta—carried small
Ganesha statues. Young girls scattered handfuls of flowers, and pairs of adolescent boys
carried poles holding metal burners emitting clouds of incense. Amid the clash of
cymbals and the roll of drums, everyone chanted, «Ganapathi bappa Moraya, Purchya
varshi laukariya.»
«Pardon me, can you tell me what they`re chanting?» Pam turned to the copper–skinned man sitting opposite her sipping tea, the only other passenger sharing the
compartment. He was a delicate win–some man dressed in a loose white cotton shirt and
trousers. At the sound of Pam`s voice he swallowed the wrong way and coughed
furiously. Her question delighted him since he had been attempting, in vain, since the
train commenced in Bombay to strike up a conversation with the handsome woman
sitting across from him. After a vigorous cough he replied, with a squeak, «My apologies,
madam. Physiology is not always at one`s command. What the people here, and
throughout all of India today, are saying is �Beloved Ganapati, lord of Moraya, come
again early next year.`”
«Ganapati?»
«Yes, very confusing, I know. Perhaps you know him by his more common name,
Ganesha. He has many other names, as well, for example, Vighnesvara, Vinayaka,
Gajanana.»
«And this parade?»
«The beginning of the ten–day festival of Ganesha. Perhaps you may be fortunate
enough to be in Bombay next week at the end of the festival and witness the entire
population of the city walk into the ocean and immerse their Ganesha statues in incoming
waves.»
«Oh, and that? A moon? Or sun?» Pam pointed to four children carrying a large
yellow papier–mГўchГ© globe.
Vijay purred to himself. He welcomed the questions and hoped the train stop
would be long and that this conversation would go on and on. Such voluptuous women
were common in American movies, but never before had he had the good fortune to
speak to one. This woman`s grace and pale beauty stirred his imagination. She seemed to
have stepped out of the ancient erotic carvings of the Kama Sutra. And where might this
encounter lead? he wondered. Could this be the life–changing event for which he had
long sought? He was free, his garment factory had, by Indian standards, made him
wealthy. His teenaged fiancГ©e died of tuberculosis two years ago, and, until his parents
selected a new bride, he was unencumbered.
«Ah, it is a moon the children hold. They carry it to honor an old legend. First, you
must know that Lord Ganesha was renowned for his appetite. Note his ample belly. He
was once invited for a feast and stuffed himself with desert pastries called laddoos. Have
you eaten laddoos?»
Pam shook her head, fearing that he might produce one from his valise. A close
friend had contracted hepatitis from a tea shop in India, and thus far she had heeded her
physician`s advice to eat nothing but four–star–hotel food. When away from the hotel she
had limited herself to food she could peel—mainly tangerines, hard–boiled eggs, and
peanuts.
«My mother made wonderful coconut almond laddoos,” Vijay continued.
«Essentially, they are fried flour balls with a sweet cardamom syrup—that sounds
prosaic, but you must believe me when I say they are far more than the sum of their
ingredients. But back to Lord Ganesha, who was so stuffed that he could not stand up
properly. He lost his balance, fell, his stomach burst, and all the laddoos tumbled out.
«This all took place at night with only one witness, the moon, who found the event
hilarious. Enraged, Ganesha cursed the moon and banished him from the universe.
However, the whole world lamented the moon`s absence, and an assembly of gods asked
Lord Shiva, Ganesha`s father, to persuade him to relent. The penitent moon also
apologized for his misbehavior. Finally, Ganesha modified his curse and announced that
the moon need be invisible only one day a month, partially visible the remainder of the
month, and for one day only would be permitted to be visible in its full glory.»
A brief silence and Vijay added, «And now you know why the moon plays a role in
Lord Ganesha festivals.»
«Thank you for that explanation.»
«My name is Vijay, Vijay Pande.»
«And mine is Pam, Pam Swanvil. What a delightful story, and what a fantastical
droll god—that elephant head and Buddha body. And yet the villagers seem to take their
myths so seriously...as though they were really—”
«It`s interesting to consider the iconography of Lord Ganesha,” Vijay gently
interrupted as he pulled from his shirt a large neck pendant on which was carved the
image of Ganesha. «Please note that every feature on Ganesha has a serious meaning, a
life instruction. Consider the large elephant head: it tells us to think big. And the large
ears? To listen more. The small eyes remind us to focus and to concentrate and the small
mouth to talk less. And I do not forget Ganesha`s instruction—even at this moment as I
talk to you I remember his counsel and I warn myself not to talk too much. You must
help by telling me when I tell you more than you wish to know.»
«No, not at all. I`m most interested in your comments on iconography.»
«There are many others; here, look closer—we Indians are very serious people.»
He reached into the leather bag he wore on his shoulder and held out a small magnifying
lens.
Taking the glass, Pam leaned over to peer at Vijay`s pendant. She inhaled his
aroma of cinnamon and cardamon and freshly ironed cotton cloth. How was it possible
for him to smell so sweet and so fresh in the close dusty train compartment? «He has only
one tusk,” she observed.
«Meaning: retain the good, throw away the bad.»
«And what`s that he holds? An ax?»
«To cut off all bonds of attachment.»
«That sounds like Buddhist doctrine.»
«Yes, remember that the Buddha emerged from the mother ocean of Shiva.»
«And Ganesha holds something in the other hand. It`s hard to see. A thread?»
«A rope to pull one ever closer to your highest goal.»
The train suddenly lurched and began to move forward.
«Our vehicle is alive again,” said Vijay. «Note Ganesha`s vehicle—there under his
foot.»
Pam moved closer to look through the lens and inhale Vijay`s scent discreetly.
«Oh, yes, the mouse. I`ve seen it in every statue and painting of Ganesha. I`ve never
known why a mouse.»
«That`s the most interesting attribute of all. The mouse is desire. You may ride it
but only if you keep it under control. Otherwise it causes havoc.»
Pam fell silent. As the train chugged on past scrawny trees, occasional temples,
water buffalo in muddy ponds, and farms whose red soil had been exhausted by
thousands of years of work, she looked at Vijay and felt a wave of gratitude. How
unobtrusively, how gently, he had taken out his pendant and saved her from the
embarrassment of speaking irreverently about his religion. When had she ever been so
