SHIVA’S BARAAT-A MERRY KALEIDOSCOPE OF GANAS
It presented a truly unique sight, this party of Shiva—a happy blend of the most strange and varied revellers. The ganas and elementals, forest men and yogis, precariously old aged people and naughty young pranksters, all moved together. The appearance was straight out of a merry circus.
Some had four legs, others none at all, walking on their hands upside down, winking intermittently at everyone. Some had hair like the leaves of a tree, others looked as though they were trees, with human feet. Some were more than hundred feet in height; others were small enough to be carried in the palms of their larger friends.
Some had no neck at all; others had ears and noses fixed to the neck like appendages. Some were dressed in the finest velvets; others wore bushes as their attire, yet others wore nothing at all, except loincloths. Some were seated stoically on their horses; others carried their horses on their back! Some were playing flutes and gentle music; others were shouting with hoarse voices and pulling out the flutes from the players’ hands. Some were perfumed with delightful scents; others were drenched in intoxicants. They were all specimens! A veritable potpourri of merry men, hitherto unseen. This was certainly not in conformity to a regular wedding procession; it was obnoxious, in terms of norm. And yet, it was not inimical; the only feeling that paradoxically emanated from their loud cries, was that of sharing and camaraderie, a pure joy in someone else’s happiness. Loud and coarse, yet happy and innocent, was The Shiva Baraat.
Some had four legs, others none at all, walking on their hands upside down, winking intermittently at everyone. Some had hair like the leaves of a tree, others looked as though they were trees, with human feet. Some were more than hundred feet in height; others were small enough to be carried in the palms of their larger friends.
Some had no neck at all; others had ears and noses fixed to the neck like appendages. Some were dressed in the finest velvets; others wore bushes as their attire, yet others wore nothing at all, except loincloths. Some were seated stoically on their horses; others carried their horses on their back! Some were playing flutes and gentle music; others were shouting with hoarse voices and pulling out the flutes from the players’ hands. Some were perfumed with delightful scents; others were drenched in intoxicants. They were all specimens! A veritable potpourri of merry men, hitherto unseen. This was certainly not in conformity to a regular wedding procession; it was obnoxious, in terms of norm. And yet, it was not inimical; the only feeling that paradoxically emanated from their loud cries, was that of sharing and camaraderie, a pure joy in someone else’s happiness. Loud and coarse, yet happy and innocent, was The Shiva Baraat.
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