Rahul M.

Photos and Text

Vinutha Mallya

Editor

large_1-20220903_191359.jpg

medium_1-20220903_191359.jpg

small_1-20220903_191359.jpg

thumbnail_1-20220903_191359.jpg

1-20220903_191359.jpg

“It’s me...It’s me...” Aman Mohammed was eager to answer my 
question before any of the others. I had asked the group of 12 or so kids 
about the lead organiser of this year’s pandal for Vinayaka Chavithi. 
“He collected 2,000 rupees all by himself,” said T. Ragini, the oldest 
of the group. So no one disputed Aman’s claim.His haul was the highest this year: two-thirds of the 3,000 rupees gathered
 by this band of pandal organisers. They had collected donations from 
vehicles passing on their street in the Sainagar neighbourhood of 
Anantapur town, Andhra Pradesh. It’s his favourite festival, Aman told me. I wasn’t surprised. On
 a Sunday in 2018, a few weeks after the Vinayaka Chavithi celebrations 
had ended in Sainagar, I spotted four children 
playing make-believe. So I took photos. The game was a tweaked 
version of ‘avva appachi’ , a favourite of kids. The boy was 
supposed to be Ganesh, the Hindu god whose birthday is celebrated as 
Vinayaka Chavithi. Two other children were carrying him around to finally 
put him on ground – reenacting Ganesh Nimarjanam, immersion of the god’s
 idol.That little Ganesh was Aman Mohammed. All of 11 now, he&#39;s the boy in the front row (on the extreme left) in the cover photo above.For
 Vinayaka Chavithi celebrations in August this year, Aman and his 
friends installed the god’s idol in a pandal measuring 2x2 feet – 
perhaps the smallest in Anantapur. Their pandal was gone before I could 
photograph it. The kids told me that they had bought the idol for 
Rs. 1,000; the balance 2,000 was spent on the structure and its 
decoration. It was set up right next to the dargah near Sainagar 3rd 
cross.

Children of the working-class settlement here have been celebrating the festival for as long as they can remember. Their parents – most of whom are daily wage workers and domestic workers or do labour jobs in the town – also contribute to the kids’ Vinayaka Chavithi festivities. The oldest of the pandal organisers is 14 years old and the youngest, 5. “We celebrate both Vinayaka Chavithi and Peerla Pandaga [Muharram 
in Rayalaseema region]” says 14-year-old Ragini. From the children’s 
point of view, Muharram and Vinayaka Chavithi are very similar. A pandal
 is the focal point of both festivals, and children are allowed to 
collect money for it. They build it from scratch with the 
money they put together. “We watched YouTube to see how to make houses,”
 said S. Sana, 11. “I helped by carrying the mud. We built the pandal 
with sticks and twinepuri [jute twine]. We put a sheet to cover 
it, and then seated our Vinayakudu [the idol] inside.”  The
 elders in the group, Ragini and Imran, (he&#39;s also 14), took turns to look 
after the pandal. “I looked after it too,” said seven-year-old S. Chand 
Basha. “I don’t go to school regularly. I go on some days, and other days I 
don’t. So I looked after it [the Vinayaka idol].” The children also perform 
pujas and offer prasadam to visitors of the pandal. The mother of one of
 the children usually cooks the prasadam – tangy tamarind rice.As Vinayaka Chavithi is a favourite festival in many working-class 
neighbourhoods of Anantapur, the fun continues for a few more weeks. 
Children make clay deities and build smaller pandals with scraps of wood
 and bamboo; bed sheets from their homes; and other discarded items that
 they find. And they reenact their favourite festival all over again, 
especially during the school holidays that fall after the Chavithi. Make-believe
 games are popular in the town&#39;s poorer neighbourhoods, where 
imagination helps children overcome the resource crunch. I once saw a 
child playing ‘rail gate’ with a stick, raising it each time a vehicle 
passed by. After Vinayaka Chavithi, the elephant god Ganesh finds his 
way into some of these games.

The little Ganesh near Sainagar dargah

سائیں نگر درگاہ کے پاس بچوں کی گنیش چویتھی

சாய்நகர் தர்காவினருகே உள்ள சிறு பிள்ளையார்

ਜਦੋਂ ਸਾਈਂਨਗਰ ਦਰਗਾਹ ਨੇੜੇ ਛੋਟੇ ਗਣੇਸ਼ ਨੇ ਲਾਇਆ ਡੇਰਾ

ସାଇନଗର ଦରଘା ନିକଟରେ ଥିବା ଛୋଟ ଗଣେଶ

साईनगर दर्ग्याजवळचा गणपती बाप्पा

സായ്നഗർ ദർഗയ്ക്ക് സമീപത്തെ  കുഞ്ഞ് ഗണപതി

ಸಾಯಿನಗರ ದರ್ಗಾದ ಬಳಿಯಲ್ಲೊಬ್ಬ ಪುಟ್ಟ ವಿನಾಯಕ

साईंनगर दरगाह के बगल में विराजे बच्चों के गणेश

સાંઇનગર દરગાહ પાસે નાનકડા ગણેશ

साईनगर दरगाह तीर छोटे गनेस

সাইনগর দরগার কাছে বিরাজমান খুদে গণেশ ঠাকুর

সাইনগৰ দৰগাহৰ সমীপৰ সৰু গণেশসকল

సాయినగర్ దర్గా దగ్గరి బాలగణపతి

Anantapur

At present, we can only accept donations in Indian rupees by Indian citizens. All donations made to the CounterMedia Trust are eligible for exemption under Section 80G of the Income Tax Act, 1961. Here is a copy of our exemption certificate.


India is bigger than New Delhi. And people need to know more about the rest of this vast nation.


Younger, media-saturated generations are growing up knowing little about their country, but a lot about the elites of a few metros and towns. For a narrowly-owned, commercially-driven media, the dumbing down of a nation is part of standard operating procedure. The last available data of the Centre for Media Studies (CMS, Delhi) show us that reports from New Delhi account for 66 per cent of news on the front pages of major dailies. The CMS data also found that just about 0.24 per cent of front page news came out of rural India. The TV channels are not much better.PARI exists to change that.We are a non-profit organisation. We publish under creative commons, and do not charge readers a subscription fee or put-up advertisements. Nothing is behind a paywall and we are completely free-to-access by anyone. We guard our independence and receive no direct grants from governments and corporations, nor any funding that could dictate our content. So, we are dependent on volunteer labour, donations from individuals, foundations and institutions that see value in independent and free media.PARI is changing the way Indian journalism reports and documents the rural.India is more than the elite of a few metros and towns. We report on rural lives and livelihoods, languages, communities, migrants and more. We need your help to pull off this most ambitious of Indian journalistic endeavours. The scale of this effort costs money. Donate generously - and spread the word about PARI.&nbsp;

Donate FAQs


Let’s get you acquainted

Welcome to PARI

All our content is, and will forever be free to consume. If you enjoy our work, you can support us by becoming a volunteer or by donating to help fund our work.

Want to republish this article? Please write to <a href="mailto:zahra@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">zahra@ruralindiaonline.org</a> with a cc to <a href="mailto:namita@ruralindiaonline.org" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">namita@ruralindiaonline.org</a>

The little Ganesh near Sainagar dargah

A favourite of children in Andhra's Anantapur town, Vinayaka Chavithi festivities go on for a few more weeks

Related stories

A rain-scented walk in Sivagangai

Living on ravaged land

Biswas and the bamboos on his bike

Recycling energy, Godda style

Bhadels of Goa

Pookadai: still throbbing with morning life

Koli Kadlas

Malnourishment high among children of migrants: study

Wheels of the rural Indian West

Living Under a Red Cloud in Bellary

Vedla – earrings of the Maher community

Dreaming of water, drowning in debt

Kali: the dancer and his dreams

Farmer's diet worse than a convict's

In Yavatmal, life goes on

Suicides are about the living, not the dead

Death of a carpenter

Hoisa Shigmo!

Women farmers: weaving a life in Anantapur

Defiant in Dhinkia

Spice and all that's nice

Kerala's Green Army

The ‘jugaad’ not-a-mobile

Health as someone else's wealth

Calibrating in a Kudumbashree assembly unit