Celebrations galore, that come to a screeching halt,
For a moment I feel human, then back to being robot.
I go through the motions, the rest of the year,
The spring returns to feet, when Bappa's B'day is near.
Dancing with joy, as we bring Him to home,
Establishing Him in the idol, taking Him on loan,
For 10 days He's ours, enough to make us get attached,
On 11th day we have to part - He's in water dispatched.
The one who comes, has to necessarily go,
Even if He's mighty Ganesha- it has to be so.
Some Gods may be immortal, He's like you and me,
On His departure I cry like a child, and He drowns in the sea.
Some think its a religious festival, others treat it as a social event,
To me its a spiritual awakening- that we are tenants whose tenure does end.
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