Last Saturday morning, Hindu devotees around the world flocked to bodies of water. Their hands were filled with some combination of coconuts, flowers, uncooked rice and coloured powder. After spending the last 10 days in prayer and celebration, it was now time to say goodbye to the beloved Lord Ganesh.
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). 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 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.
In theory, Ganesh Chaturthi is a beautiful festival. Like many Hindu festivals, its exact origins are unknown. 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. 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. Since then, the festival has grown phenomenally around western India and, to some extent, globally.
Unfortunately, the growth of the Ganesh Chaturthi festival has not necessarily been sustainable. 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. Statues that were once constructed of earthy clay are now built using the less expensive – and less biodegradable – plaster of paris. Harmless vegetable dyes have similarly given way to more vivid – and more toxic – chemical-based paints.
I doubt this is what Tilak had envisioned.
What is the result of this? Considering that Mumbaikars alone immersed almost 190,000 statues last year, some of which were over 10ft tall, one can imagine that Indian waters are crying for help. Unlike clay and sandalwood paste, plaster of paris is not a naturally occurring material; rather, it is a calcium sulfate hemihydrate, which can take years to fully dissolve. In addition, most chemical paint contains heavy metals like mercury and lead, which do not dissolve at all.
As a result, the Central Pollution Control Board reports that the annual immersion of Ganesh idols has significantly increased the content of iron, copper, mercury, chromium and acid in water surrounding Mumbai and other western Indian towns. Equally worrying is how Indian fishing communities often find pieces of once-revered Ganesh idols tangled in their nets, alongside dead mercury-laden fish.
The good news is that unlike industrial water pollution, this breed of water pollution can be addressed through effective and widespread grassroots action. It is not so much a question of changing written policies and laws, but more one of challenging individual attitudes and societal norms.
This has already begun in a small way: local NGOs regularly petition for devotees to immerse biodegradable Ganesh statues, to "symbolically" immerse reusable idols by sprinkling water on them, or to immerse idols in a tub at home.
But these steps are not enough. We need action on a much larger scale. On paper, the best solution would be to place an outright ban on plaster-of-paris Ganesh statues. Such a ban would, in theory, bring the festival back to its organic roots.
However, ornate celebrations in India are often seen as "better" or "more religious" than their austere counterparts, and banning toxic statues may inadvertently hurt some religious sentiments.
A more effective solution may be to marry legislation with well-crafted public awareness efforts. Local politicians, who often fund Ganesh statues to garner votes, can easily showcase their commitment to a greener India by only backing biodegradable statues. Respected religious leaders can also remind the public of the festival's humble origins and of the spirit of Lord Ganesh.
In cases such as these, public attitudes often need to be jolted before changing. For the collective sake of India's aquatic life, Bal Gangadhar Tilak and the spirit of Lord Ganesh, let us hope these and other efforts form a piece of India's greener tomorrow.