It must be global warming. The gods are going crazy this festival season. In Australia, Ganesha, along with Jesus and Buddha, is tucking into a plate of lamb. In Kolkata, Durga is heading to a Jawed Habib salon for some pre-Puja beauty treatment. Even poor Mahishasura is up for grabs.
A famous Durga Puja in north Kolkata, riled up by lurid stories of bloodsucking hospitals, decided to have the goddess slay wicked doctors this year. Meanwhile, Sunny Leone is telling us to get some extra protection this Navratri with Manforce condoms. Unsurprisingly, the faithful are incensed. There’s so much for them to be up in arms about these days it would be handy if, like Durga herself, her defenders had 10 arms as well.
Unfortunately, despite years of outrage Olympics, we all too often grab the wrong end of the stick. How dare Ganesha be eating lamb? Meat and Livestock Australia needs to apologise immediately. Don’t they know Ganesha is shuddh vegetarian? But is this merely a case of the wrong god invited to dinner? Would it have been okay if it had been a more omnivorous deity, say Kali?
Sales and sneakers
The larger issue that gets drowned out in our high-pitched indignation is whether it’s kosher to use gods to sell anything in the first place, be it lamb or spa treatments or condoms. Why are we more upset about what a God is selling rather than the fact that gods are selling anything at all?
When a business magazine cover photoshopped M.S. Dhoni as the God of Big Deals, a hitherto unseen avatar of Vishnu, it faced several lawsuits for insulting Hinduism. The problem was that Dhoni was holding a sneaker, one of the many products he endorses. The shoe apparently did not fit the defenders of the faith. Oddly, while they were fixated on that sneaker, no one seemed as upset that one of our great sporting heroes was selling us junk food like soda and chips with his other hands. By the way, a Mumbai daily also made Narendra Modi a ‘God of All He Surveys’ Brahma, holding a cellphone and laptop and that was har okay.
The problem is that our devas and devis, with their menagerie of lions, owls and swans, their elephant heads, and multiple arms, have slowly become akin to Santa Claus — cute, cuddly and commercial, gods gone Disney. That makes them irresistible advertising fodder for marketing executives and not just in India. Ganesh ended up on American Eagle slippers, Lakshmi hovered over a Burger King ham and cheese sandwich in Spain, Kali showed up on toilet seats, and ‘Shiva Classic Thongs’ retailed online for $12.99.
You don’t have to be deeply devout to be deeply offended by thongs and toilet seats but it does not mean these companies are out to deliberately disrespect Hinduism. Our gods have become cool and cool can be commoditised. It can be sold as lunchboxes. The fact that our holy books are often regarded more as legends than scriptures makes it easier to turn our gods into peddlers of cool.
Strike a bargain
Of course, our gods are used to transactions. The Saraswati in our house gathered dust all year long until the calculus examination loomed. Then it was time to strike a bargain with her. I carried a little bit of dried marigold from my great-grandmother’s Saraswati puja in a little paper twist in my wallet as added insurance for examination luck. If it worked, I thanked her. If it did not, I assumed my devotion needed a little more work.
Gods were like temperamental family members. We pouted at them when they didn’t listen to us, cooked for them when they did, asked them for favours of all kinds — business deals, doctor or engineer sons-in-law, cancer cures. And somewhere along the way we put them to work as salespersons. Once we make that leap of faith we find ourselves in tricky territory, arguing about why flour is acceptable for a god to sell but pizza is not. Then we get offended on behalf of the gods. We demand that ads be pulled out, apologies issued or products boycotted.
Along the way we forget that our gods slay demons, fight epic wars, churn oceans for amrit. Their ten arms carry ten weapons from chakras to falchions. Their third eye incinerates armies. When did they become so puny that they need social media warriors to protect them against lunchboxes made in China?
On the other hand, having gone around Durga Puja pandals in Kolkata and seen the increasingly buff Mahishasuras, all bulging muscle and six-packs, I do think he’d be a great brand ambassador for my gym. Since he’s not a god (although some tribal communities would disagree), few would be offended.
And it certainly beats being speared to death annually. 100% Buff, No Beef — the Mahisasura Full Body Workout sounds like a great festive special.
The writer is the author of Don’t Let Him Know , and like many Bengalis, likes to let everyone know about his opinions whether asked or not
