Madhu Menon
April 10, 2024
I did not know that yesterday (9th April) was the beginning of Chaitra Navratri, as I don’t know much about religious festivals and rituals. In my city, Ahmedabad, I had no idea some people keep rare goats of various breeds, including those from Africa, Australia, and Indonesia. Now, please don’t get into any confusion or conclusion. These are my diary pages from today’s thoughts.
I got a phone call yesterday from a friend; I am unsure whether I can call him a friend because my acquaintance with him has been a short time, though I have known him for the last two decades. I am sure I have created more confusion for you. To introduce him, let me say that he met with an accident almost a year back, and it was so severe he got into a coma situation. It was during these days I started knowing him, interestingly from his friends, family, and others, all the while he was dependent on the ventilator. I was a regular at the hospital, asking about his health and offering my unsolicited help to the family members. But I had no role as he was a friend of farmers from far away, restaurant owners in the city of Ahmedabad and surroundings, and even the owners of small shops that fill all the available space in and around Delhi Darwaja.
He called to invite me to one of his friend’s homes, where there are varieties of goats and a great chance for me to see them and collect their droppings, which are their excreta. For those who have not yet initiated to the idea of organic farming or toxic-free gardening, goat manure is drier than cow manure or horse manure. The goat’s droppings have less odour and are easier to work with, and they compost more quickly. Goat manure is higher in nitrogen than horse and cow manure. He knew that I was a passionate organic gardener.
My first instinct was to grab the chance, go with him, see the varieties of goats, and collect the droppings. And the ultimate aim was to enrich my garden soil with nitrogen-rich tablets. So I said yes readily to his offer. But his offer was conditional; I might have missed the star below (*) his invitation. He said, let’s meet at 7.30 morning near the Bhadra Temple, the place in Ahmedabad which is not just historical but has been a happening place for the last six centuries. I knew the location and might have passed through that place a hundred-plus times, but I had never been there; I mean, at the temple. I conveyed my apprehension, to which he said, please be there with me, I want you to pray for me and thank the divine Badhra, the Durga, the Bhadrakali for giving me a second innings.
I felt a call, an unexplainable one, to say yes to him. I reached there much before he reached, and I could watch hundreds of people, most of them rushing towards their daily chorus but just stopping for a few minutes, sometimes only seconds, to express their devotion and respect to the deity that is quite a distance from them. Very few of them came in cars, but cheap cars, and got down, said their prayers, and drove away. People were selling flowers, coconuts, garlands, and all other accessories associated with a temple. Thank God, no one was after me insisting on purchasing some of their offerings. Maybe all of them believed that I was there just as an onlooker.
Then he appeared. I was relieved to see him. He went to almost all the vendors selling all the paraphernalia and the temple accessories but without purchasing anything. He only asked about their well-being, health, and children. Then he asked me to get a garland from one of his friends when I realized I had no cash and the vendor had no UPI; I have lived in a digital India for the last nine years. So he paid the money for the garland and led me towards the temple’s interiors. I told myself, you pay for your blessings; I am just a catalyst.
Then we visited the goats, collected their droppings, and thanked Rizwan Mohmed for taking care of such a variety of goats and giving us the droppings.
Back in the office, I told my colleagues that I went to the Bhadrakali temple today morning, and they were surprised about my punctuality in visiting the Kaali Temple on the first day of Chaitra Navratri, without realizing that it was my first visit.
Finally, what was my takeaway? The political banner right opposite the temple that proclaims wishes every street vendor an Eid Mubarak, the holy festival of Muslims.
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