

Over time, public celebrations have become more lavish: neighbourhood temples have become grander, renditions of Marathi folk songs have become louder, and Ganesh idols have become larger. Unfortunately, the growth of the Ganesh Chaturthi festival has not necessarily been sustainable. Since then, the festival has grown phenomenally around western India and, to some extent, globally. Tilak specifically began installing large images of Ganesh in various pavilions around Pune city, in an effort to subvert the British ruling that prevented Indians from freely gathering. We know that it has been celebrated in private homes for centuries, and that in 1893, freedom fighter Bal Gangadhar Tilak gave it an unprecedented public face. Like many Hindu festivals, its exact origins are unknown. In theory, Ganesh Chaturthi is a beautiful festival. The idols, historically constructed of clay, are intended to dissolve in minutes and become part of the ongoing circle of life – a fitting choice, given how Ganesh himself was supposedly concocted out of sandalwood paste. The celebration ends on the 11th day, when devotees formally bid farewell to the elephant-headed god by immersing physical idols into the sea. The annual Ganesh Chaturthi celebration is highly spirited, filled with days of dancing, dousing one other with colour and loudly chanting: "Ganpati bappa morya" (Hail Lord Ganesh). After spending the last 10 days in prayer and celebration, it was now time to say goodbye to the beloved Lord Ganesh.

Their hands were filled with some combination of coconuts, flowers, uncooked rice and coloured powder.

L ast Saturday morning, Hindu devotees around the world flocked to bodies of water.
