When Daya was born, her parents took the decision not to impose any single religion on their daughter and their home. It was not though a g...
When Daya was born, her parents took the decision not to impose any single religion on their daughter and their home. It was not though a godless space but one with many gods, with every god. They celebrated both Diwali and Christmas, they had above their front door a carved wooden Jesus, and to the side of the entrance sat a Ganesha from Mamallapuram.
The chubby Ganesha sat upon an elegant stone lotus – the flower a feat of the sculptor – which, because of its upward-curving petals, also served as a bowl in which Daya’s mother Asha, floated real lotuses torn from a nearby water body in which only buffaloes and their keepers – stray village boys – swam, both sets of bodies glistening in the noon sun.
Initially, Asha had not wanted to buy the statue because Ganesha’s mount, his mouse Mushak, hadn’t been carved into the masterpiece. “I just wish he was there – it would be complete, you know?” she had said to Gyan but he had convinced her of its superior sculpting, pointing out cleverly the naughty smile on the elephant god’s face.
