Immersion In Ganpati Visarjan, 2026 – A Photoblog

A tear rolls down his cheek. His face looks like that of a man who has hardened himself to face life, a man who can’t be easily moved to tears. His whole family stands next to him, all overwhelmed, seeing him vulnerable, as their family Ganpati is given a send-off, visarjan, into the water. Maybe it’s his faith in Ganpati that fortifies him to face life, and today he is letting him go.

This is happening at one of the artificial ponds that have been made all over Mumbai to manage the chaos and pollution on the beaches. There are men inside these ponds who take the idol with the same reverence as the family handing it to them, and sink with it below the surface, stacking the idols under water, keeping space for the hundreds more that each pond will take.

Each family is doing its own version of the pooja, all placing their small idols next to each other. Some kids are playing and dancing to the dhol and tasha, which is banging away live. In the family next to them, a little boy is sobbing silently, heartbroken, as if he is about to lose a friend. For some of the adults around him, for whom it was a mechanical ritual till now, his tears have made it real.

I am shooting the 10th day visarjan. I had photographed visarjan on day 3 in Juhu and day 7 in Dadar as well, which are the visarjan days for the smaller Ganpatis that people keep in their houses. They had all wanted their Ganpati photographed, one more memory of it to carry in their hearts till next year. The clay from which the idols are made had been infused with love and devotion, and had become a real presence in their lives. Routines in and around the house had changed. It had become the centre of the universe for the family, for their friends, for relations, pulling everyone into its orbit. Today, the whole festival ends, and Ganpati pulls the whole city into his orbit.

It’s crowded today. Traffic diversions are all over the city, and extra trains are plying. Music processions are rising from every lane where a Ganpati is on its way to immersion. No one minds the water and the colours in the air. No one minds the slight push and shove. A handful of cops could not contain a crowd this huge. Ganpati is in charge here.

My camera bag is a bit overloaded because of my greed to capture as much of the action as I can. I am out with Roshan, a colleague and fellow photography enthusiast. I am getting my shots, but my back and shoulders are paying the price. We only have to make sure the battery and memory card last for the rest of the day’s shoot. Fatigue will be taken care of by the energy in the air.

I am talking to a cop. He is new, three months in. He is still soft, eager. That cynicism of having seen too much does not cloud his face. He is curious about me, the photographer, trying to digest that I am putting in all this effort and it isn’t even my everyday work. I make a bad call and turn on my video to record this sweet exchange. He sees it and clams up, telling me it’s not OK, and our flow of conversation stops awkwardly. Lesson learnt.

A pandal karyakarta sees me photographing their Ganesh, and taps me as I am trying to frame the weapon in Ganpati’s hand. He wants me to meet the main guy of the mandal. They want to felicitate me. I climb up next to the Ganpati, they hand me a coconut and a pamphlet, and take a picture of me. They assume I am some foreigner, and now I don’t have the heart to respond to them in Hindi. I fear I may even be pushed off the platform for my deceit.

The crowd waits patiently on the street. Whole families and their neighbours are out today, sitting on the sidewalks. A procession will pass here, a procession of Gods as imagined by man. Man has imagined the Creator. An idol passes by and gets everyone excited. It has Ram with his bow stretched out, and Ganesh on top of him with a spinning weapon balanced on his fingers. It passes under the metro line, as tall as the pillars holding it up. It is a beautiful piece of art and imagination, and also engineering that holds it together. People point me to the artist to made it, insisting that I take his picture as well, not just his creation’s. He is as popular as the God he made.

These idols are sized and shaped by what the hearts and minds of their artists can conjure. Huge, imaginative, an exaggeration for the human mind, designed to awe us, to shock our senses. To wake the senses, to soak him and his essence in. No two idols are the same. The visual spectacle is the wrapper for deeper faith.

The biggest and most popular is Lalbaug cha Raja. It’s not easy to see him (unless you are a VIP, which still works in the human realm). You commit many hours in a slow-moving line for a glimpse, and you will get darshan only if you show enough commitment, reminiscent of the legends of the rishis who would do austerities for thousands of years to overwhelm the Gods into appearing before them.

Bappa is pushed by hand across the 10-15 km stretch over the next 15 hours perhaps. It is manual effort, human energy and the human heart. Every step will be a celebration on the way. His big form isn’t the size of the idol, it is the size of the masses he attracts around him, and the energy that envelops the whole city. Physical effort in this environment seems to disappear.

For most, having Ganpati in their life means they have to be deserving of him. Kindness appears in that space on its own. A truck passes, carrying families who have finished their visarjan and are enjoying a cola. They toss a few bottles to an auto behind them, and the passengers gladly catch them.

Girgaon Chowpatty is the immersion point for mandals in this part of town. It’s 4 pm, and the crowds are building up. Cops have blocked some roads to make the flow smoother, and we have to take a longer way to reach the beach ahead of the idols. The backache is back, and one of my shoulders can’t shoulder the burden now. It’s low tide, and the water has receded, leaving a slushy beach. To walk towards the edge, to get a shot facing the idol, you have to slip and slop through it. Feet sink to the ankles and get stuck. I pull off my shoes, and it’s easier to walk through the slush barefoot.

I get a boatman to agree to take us further in. He isn’t used to this ask. He has no rate card for it. He tries to base it on the petrol that will be used up. I tell him I don’t want to go anywhere, just float a little deeper. We agree on a third of the price he instinctively quoted. After that he becomes our guide to the rituals, and to the technicalities of what it takes to immerse these giants. He explains that the taller ones have to be taken lying down on platforms, into deeper water, for a proper immersion. 

The big Ganpatis seem to float over the crowds. The 20-foot giants are pushed down to the water’s edge. More keep arriving, and the ones in the queue slide ahead to take their place. It feels like a landing strip, with Ganpatis the size of aeroplanes. Each has to be shifted onto a floating platform, which will take them further in. These giants need more depth.

A stream of people is walking back out of the sea after the immersion. They look almost relieved that the end of the day is near, satisfied that Ganpati will be back next year.

In the distance, a boat is disappearing into the horizon, sailing off the edge of the world, carrying the giant Ganpati back to his realm. My boatman only takes me to the edge.

VIDEO – GANPATI VISARJAN DAY 3

VIDEO – GANPATI VISARJAN DAY 7

VIDEO – GANPATI VISARJAN DAY 10

Coming soon.