He watched the god dissolve into the murky water, returning to the earth. He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his father, the historian.
Rohan looked back at the shore. Amma was already arguing with Priya about the leftover obattu . Mrs. Nair was chasing a stray dog away from her sundal . A cow was blocking the road, causing a traffic jam of auto-rickshaws whose drivers were all yelling at once. design of machine elements by jalaluddin pdf free download
“You know, son,” his father said, his eyes crinkling. “We don’t just worship the idol. We worship the process. The making, the keeping, the feeding, and the letting go. That’s life.” He watched the god dissolve into the murky
Later that evening, as the sun turned the sky a shade of saffron, the family walked to the neighborhood pond to immerse the small Ganesha idol. The streets were alive. Kids were bursting crackers. A man on a bicycle was selling cotton candy. A dhol (drum) player walked by, beating out a rhythm that made your hips move involuntarily. Rohan looked back at the shore