Seventeen file in through the front door
Chattering excitedly, individually whittling away at conversation
A cousin arrives here, a cousin arrives there, wearing black, blue, red, green, yellow
As we start chaturhti, eighteen become one. One is the elephant in the room. Seventeen are mice
Voices begin to merge.
A prayer to the ????? god was said by seventeen, a prayer to the ????? god is now said by one
Four families but one voice, last names don’t matter
One voice is seventeen voices. A line is dropped, sixteen others cover it up
As does incense
As do cymbals
As does the bell
Smoke wafts slowly through the congregation on a cool breeze
The product of fire; a burning ice in our hearts
Sweet smells but not sickly, smells like God
With our hands folded together, Ganapati, one of us sings your praises.
Come back early next year.