To be honest, I'm not big on festivals, especially when it comes to getting out of the house the day someone's celebrating. But being in Mumbai you can't always run away from what's sitting right in front of your face. So I tagged along with a press photographer just because I had a friend convince me it would be worth a day off from work.
Apart from watching the human pyramids come crashing down every big street we stopped by, I obviously started to get bored after spending the better part of my day riding around on the bike seeing exactly the same thing happen over and over again, the same blaring commercial music, the same glaring sun.. only with new faces rising up. So the about 5 feet tall big man gets a call, SOS to panvel, I know this sounds dramatic but when you're jumping on and off the back seat of a bike when you don't know what the plan is, it's quite exciting. As we ride towards our destination to see a team of girls form the human pyramid, we had to get off the bike cos the street was shut..human barricade. I sat on the bike in shock... trust me I was lost for words. So i get pulled by the arm towards the crowd while he shouts..get the camera started! There was a small circle about 8 men strong, the crowd gathered in silence covering every inch of the 7 foot wide street, people pouring out of their windows verandahs and doors with eyes fixed on the 2 men standing inside the circle. One in a total and complete trance with fingers interlocked elbows bent resting the tips of his fingers on his head every few seconds in between chants. The other had an oddly shaped imitation of a sword made of intertwined rope. So i'm assuming this is a little skit. Out of nowhere the guy with the "talwar" (sword) takes a long swing back and starts to violently swing the talwar only stopping to pull his arm back after the recoil on the other man's body. After some 5 big swings, he stops and the man taking the beating starts to shake violently back and forth.
After 2 more men took centre stage and took the beating, the crowd broke up walked down the street and turned around the bend and into a building. We followed the crowd while some lined the entrance and the others rushed in. We stood on the side lines for about ten minutes shuffling around trying to find a way in which after begging and requesting, someone allowed us in. We had to enter into this building that had a central courtyard with a verandah lining the first floor with people pouring over like rats looking down in silence. This being a very private community, wasn't very excited at the site of us but let us in anyway and allowed us to photograph the event. In the courtyard in one corner stood a wooden rack with about a dozen mud pots filled with the traditional 'malai' (coconut milk) Soon the drums started to beat, the men outside chanting and pacing in a trance waited for the call. We stood in the verandah watching, waiting with abated breath. while the crowd in the courtyard gathered. All of a sudden like bulls came a whole bunch of them charging with their heads aimed at the mud pots. Sausage fest I called it jokingly, but really; I was nervous watching this entire event unfold. After the pot breaking stopped, a majority of them held their hands over their heads fingers intertwined chanting. The crowd broke up in patches as men walked in with the talwars. I watched with the same awe as I did when I saw it ten minutes before in the streets. I managed to get a little video clip keeping my nerves in check, most of the photographs are blurry cos I couldn't keep a very steady hand with the crowds around heeding no attention to me with my camera. i was a little ant there squeezing through the wood work. little did i realise when i walked out the building we are the flip end. I walked around the building through an alley in muck and sewage only to look at my feet when i found my slippers. It's amazing sometimes how situations and experience can change your reality
