I start feeling nostalgic and missing homeland during festival time and this year has been no exception. A phone call to my brother for Rakshabandhan or Bhau-Beej, a video chat with my parents during Diwali leaves me teary eyed and wanting to jump on a flight to India. I try to compensate feelings of alienation by making corresponding festival fare and gorging myself on it. Two years ago, I attempted modaks for Ganesh Chaturthi. The crust came out chewy and rubbery but the filling of jaggery and coconut, infused with cardamom, was still worth it.
This year I could hear the beating of drums in the background as I talked to my sister back home. It was hard to hear much over the din but I gathered from her that the youngsters in her housing complex were practicing for Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations. How could I not attempt to make modaks again sitting in the quiet surroundings of my suburban home? My mother gave me her usual helpful but ambiguous tips “a little bit of rava (semolina) to maida (APF) and roll the poori thin before filling and shaping the modak”.
This year I could hear the beating of drums in the background as I talked to my sister back home. It was hard to hear much over the din but I gathered from her that the youngsters in her housing complex were practicing for Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations. How could I not attempt to make modaks again sitting in the quiet surroundings of my suburban home? My mother gave me her usual helpful but ambiguous tips “a little bit of rava (semolina) to maida (APF) and roll the poori thin before filling and shaping the modak”.
Making of a modak for Susan's B&WW
Based on those thin guidelines, I fiddled with the proportions and had the foresight to take notes while I made the modaks. I was delighted to bite into the crispy crust (after offering the Prasad to Ganesh first, of course) that would have made the pot-bellied god a happy camper.
Modaks for the pot-bellied one
Once fried, they are off to Susan's B&WW
It transported me back to the days when my mom would fast once a month for chaturthi and break her fast with twenty one modaks. One of those modaks was a salty one and once mother ate that she had to stop. We three kids sat close to her, watching as the modak count dwindled. We would heave a sigh of relief as she finally came across and ate the salty one. Then the three of us would divvy the modaks and send a silent prayer to Ganesha for helping her find the salty one short of ten.
Now, all grown up, I do not even think about observing the strict fast my mom kept. However, Ganesha still has a strong presence in my household. I have pictures and statues of him scattered all over my house. My husband reads tales of Ganesha and other gods to our son. We, like parents of my generation, are forever grateful to Uncle Pai and his Amar Chitra Katha. Those tales (katha) are indeed immortal (amar). As much as we read those tales, when a poojari (priest) asked us the names of Ganesha’s sons we were thrown for a loop. We knew the names of his wives, Riddhi and Siddhi. But we didn’t even know he had sons let alone what their names were. The answer, when he told us, was so simple, we almost smacked ourselves in the head.
After I had my fill of the modaks I posed the same question on fb. A lot of friends chimed in and like all Indian myths, they had slightly different versions and names of Ganesha’s wives and sons. Manisha was most helpful, quoting from a book on tales of Ganesha and her tidbits made for a fun discussion. From that discussion, this tale is woven.
Disclaimer: Based on myths and tales of Ganesha and written in jest. Not intended to offend any Ganesha devotees. I am one myself and have nothing but the highest reverence, regard and love for the Remover of all obstacles.