Ganeshji & My Gharwapsi

Social Commentary

Ganeshji & My Gharwapsi

Illustration: Saachi Mehta/ Arré

I

t’s 8:30 am on Ganesh Chaturthi. One hand reaches for a cigarette pack above my head and the other hand groggily searches for a bottle of water. As my hands hit a wall, I wake up with a mini panic attack. There’s no cigarette pack and there’s no bottle. All there is, is the smell of agarbattis and ukadi modaks. My father lovingly shakes my shoulder saying, “Darling, wake up, it’s time for puja.”

Living in my parents’ house post separation was supposed to be a temporary thing. I was to get my act and finances together and move out into a place of my own. Living alone during my twenties was about being rebellious. At thirty, it is about staying sane. It was supposed to cue new friendships, travel, love, life experiences, and maybe even a hobby, such as teaching or farming. But this is my third Ganesh Chaturthi here and zero life experiences have been added thus far.

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