There’s a lot about Mumbai that makes me think of my home town, New Orleans, and Ganesh Chaturthi, which reminded me a little of Mardi Gras, was no exception. But unlike in New Orleans, where the party comes to a sharp close at midnight when mounted policemen walk their horses in formation down the French Quarter streets, this festival doesn’t stop until the morning after its final day.
Wondering where you can catch it? Ideally you will have some friends with a view of Girgaum Chowpatty from their place, but, barring that luxury, you will need to do a little walking because many streets surrounding the routes will be closed to car traffic. Google maps started showing the routes a few days after the festival began, and you can check Twitter for any updates from the @MumbaiPolice account. These routes will show the streets the biggest Ganpatis will parade down, but smaller processions will arise from various neighborhoods as personal or community Ganpatis make their way to the sea as well. There are lots of places to see immersions, but the main areas are the beaches: Juhu, Versova, and—the biggest—Girgaum Chowpatty.
There will be many immersions, including that of the beloved Bappa, Mumbai’s largest Ganpati, the evening and into the night of the final day, but many of the Ganpatis will not make their way into the sea until the following dawn. I had spent some time in the evening of Anant Chaturdasi following the revelers down toward Chowpatty, but it got a little crowded and hectic for the enochlophobic in me, so I went home early to get a good night’s sleep.
Early the next morning, I woke up and headed out to Chowpatty. It was still dark out as I walked down deserted Warden Road past the street dwellers still sleeping on the pavement and the cabbies stretched out as far as possible in their cars. Thinking there would be a crush of people still up and partying in the streets, I took a long detour around Malabar Hill to descend on the beach from above. I need not have gone out of my way as it wasn’t so crowded as to preclude passing on foot easily from the Gamdevi area fronting the beach, but I’m glad I took the route because I got a splendid view of the procession of Ganpatis and people on the beach just as the sun was coming up.
Once down on the beach, I was able to walk around and get pictures with no problem. There were a lot of people, but the crowds were mostly around the Ganpatis rolling out to sea, and I had no desire to get in the water (nor should anyone, in my opinion, who isn’t devout; also, people drown every year all over India during submersions). I never felt any apprehension even though I was the only foreigner I saw, and certainly the only solo female. There were groups of young men who asked me to take selfies with them, but the whole site was well policed and pretty chill, so I felt very safe. I think the main partying (drinking of bhang and liquor) comes the night before, and hardly anyone seemed intoxicated with anything more than a big love for Ganesha.
This year for the first time, the city had set up a special covered pavilion for tourists and “executives,” but it stood empty the morning of the immersion. I talked to a Mumbai policeman who told me that the pavilion was used the day prior as a viewing area while the Ganpatis were walked to the edge of the sea. He said there were no tickets to buy in advance and that tourists didn’t need to show passports, but check with your hotel or local papers to know for sure if you decide to go next year.
The Maharashtra Tourism site was selling bookings for GC tours this year, but none included the actual immersion. Luckily, as I found out quite early the morning after Anant Chaturdasi, you don’t need a tour to experience this beautiful ritual. Just show up, be respectful, and make sure your camera battery is charged.
