Monsoons

The monsoon (or rainy) season has started in Chennai. It hits different parts of the country at different times and, apparently, for the next three or four months it will grace us with its presence. It is characterized by torrential downpours at least once and sometimes two or three times a day. The storms are usually intense, and often accompanied by lightning and thunder, but brief in duration. Sometimes even when it is not raining the air remains thick with water; last week some drink mix that I'd spilled on the counter spontaneously became little droplets of Gatorade.

Add to this daily deluge uneven roads and poor or non-existent drainage infrastructure and the cleansing rain ends up producing mud and muck throughout the city. Huge puddles form instantly, sometimes blocking all available walking paths. Some puddles disappear just as quickly once the rain stops, while others stubbornly stick around to wait for the next storm. I arrived at work Monday morning with socks and shoes soaked clear through after wading through the remains of the most recent monsoon. This led to a moment of stark realization as I finally understood why most people here wear sandals or go barefoot everyday, no matter the degree of formality of the rest of their attire.

On the positive side, the temperature has come down a bit and the plants have never been more green. As I'm not a fan of the cold, I think I'll gladly take four months of warm rain to snow and freezing wind any day. As the leaves fall and the Charles River freezes I'll be looking for creative ways to circumvent puddles. I just have to get around to finally buying an umbrella and learn to wear sandals with dress slacks. Don't expect to see any pictures.



Smart not to wear shoes.


Water, water, everywhere.


Some streets turn into canals. Venice without the boats?

More pictures here.

Ayudha Pooja

October is holiday season in India. We had two work holidays last week (for the end of Ramadan and Gandhi’s birthday), one this week, and in a few weeks is Diwali, the biggest holiday of the year.

Yesterday was Ayudha Pooja (known as Durga Puja in other parts of the country). (A pooja or puja is a special prayer or worship ceremony, often performed with the help of a priest.) Today is Vijayadashmi. Ayudha Pooja celebrates the goddess Durga cleaning her weapons before killing the demons, which happened on Vijayadashmi (it also celebrates Rama killing the demon king Ravana). More on the origin of the holiday can be found here and here. Basically, it is a day set aside to consecrate the devices that are used to implement one's work, whatever they may be. Thus, an auto rickshaw driver will wash and clean his vehicle, decorate it with flowers and paint, and park it at the temple over night. Similarly, my co-workers will leave their computers in front of an idol overnight to be consecrated to the god (I suggested that this might be a good idea for all of us, even the non-Hindus, as all our computers seem to be possessed in some way or another).

At IFMR the day was celebrated with a special ceremony in the library. The room was cleaned and a table was arranged with pictures of gods, fruit, and flowers. When the priest arrived, he scattered the flower petals and other offerings in front of the pictures as he performed ancient Sanskrit incantations. The ceremony lasted about ten minutes as the room filled with incense. At the end, those who wished went forward and received a traditional mark of powder on their foreheads (representative of submission to the Almighty and also his omnipresence) and treats were distributed to everyone.

Here, the idea that everything has an essence manifests itself in respect, even for inanimate objects. Although the forms and rituals are vastly different, the idea of consecrating material possessions to God is a familiar concept in Mormonism. Although I’d gladly offer it, I’m pretty sure God wouldn’t want my computer, however; it would vastly decrease His productivity.

IFMR decorated for Ayudha Pooja.


Preparation for the pooja in the library.


The priest here is doing aarti, in which light from wicks soaked in ghee (purified butter) is offered to one or more deities.





Speakers are placed at many street corners during holidays to blare music through the neighborhood. Very festive.


Truck decorated for the pooja.





Auto rickshaw decorated for the pooja.


Manually powered Ferris Wheel.

More pictures can be found here and a video of part of the IFMR library pooja is on my Facebook video page.

The Legend of Onam

September 12th was Onam, a holiday in the state of Kerala (known for beautiful beaches and ayurvedic health treatments, Kerala is in the south west of India). Here in Tamil Nadu, we didn't have the day off work, but we did go to lunch and have traditional Onam foods.

Onam is an ancient harvest festival that celebrates a mythical leader of Kerala, King Mahabali. There are many versions of the legend (see here and here for a few), but as near as I can tell, it goes something like this:

In Kerala, there once lived a wise, generous demon king named Mahabali. A worshipper of Lord Vishnu, Mahabali was loved by his subjects and brought a golden age of happiness and prosperity to Kerala.

However, the gods were jealous of the popularity of Mahabali and sought help from Lord Vishnu. Vishnu took the form of a poor priestly dwarf (some say boy) called Vamana and went to Mahabali just after his morning prayers. The king was impressed by the priest and promised to give him anything that he desired. Sensing that this was no ordinary priest, an advisor to the king tried to persuade him to renege on his promise and send the dwarf away. However, Mahabali had made an oath and would not break it. He told his advisor: "I am prepared to face any consequence but will not go back on my word."

Vamana asked for as much land as he could cover in three steps and Mahabali agreed. Suddenly, Vamana grew to a massive size. With his first step, he covered the whole sky and with his next, he covered the whole earth. Fearing that the third step would destroy all of creation, King Mahabali asked that the third step be placed on his head.

Vishnu complied, placing his third step on the king's head and pushing him into the underworld (Mahabali means great sacrifice). Because of his deep attachment to his people, King Mahabali was permitted to visit the people of Kerala once each year. The annual visit of the king is celebrated during Onam when each family places elaborate designs, often made of flowers, in front of their house to welcome him. Some legends also say that Mahabali was promised that he would rule the earth in a future age.

When I first heard the story of Onam I was perplexed. My Western, overly logical mind couldn't reconcile the many contradictions in the story. Demons are by definition bad; how could a demon king be good and beloved by his people? How could gods be jealous of an earthly ruler and why would they want to depose a good king? How could a just god punish a righteous king who was intent on keeping his promise at all costs and willing to sacrifice himself for his people? It seemed a very irrational story.

However, I've since come to appreciate the legend of Mahabali a great deal. I now see it as a powerful story of doing what is right despite the consequences. It exemplifies a willingness to accept what God gives even if it appears that we are being punished for righteous behavior. Even more profound, in the story of a devil who became a great king, always to be remembered by his people, I find hope that I also can overcome the demons within and perhaps someday be remembered as a force for good. Perhaps there is a little of Mahabali in each of us; both demon and god in embryo.


A traditional Onam welcome to King Mahabali, made out of flower petals, outside of IFMR.


I'm not sure how long they spent on this, but it must have taken hours.