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Shodashi never wore a watch.There was really no necessity anymore. It was redundant like so many other objects in life. Or relationships. It was time to let go. Of emotions and feelings that kept one from practising one’s purushartha. It took years of reflection to come to this understanding. She no longer suffered from guilt pangs or sorrow that comes from losing people to death or otherwise. She did feel a bit low though, she would be missing Kartika Poornima celebrations at home. Looking out of her hotel window onto Soi Si Bamphen, she pondered if it was safe to venture out on the streets alone. Her eyes dazzled with the twinkling lights of the massage parlours and weed showrooms below. This is a hipster joint no doubt and there are foreigners too milling about but should I ….
“Bangkok aa? Ayyiyyo! Be safe, are you going alone? Why? What is this conference that is being held there of all places….?” Amma had been loath to let her fly to Bangkok alone. She, like everyone else, thought the worst of this city, and such is the power of narratives. Shodashi had wanted to avoid this conversation before leaving for Thailand the next day but she did not want another drama unfolding on her return.
“It is the World Hindu Conference maa, and Bangkok is amazing, you came with me kadaa. Remember, we were there in 2018, and visited all those gorgeous palaces with Ramayana and Mahabharata paintings on their walls…” Shodashi had still not packed and this would be a prolonged phone-con, sighing, she sat down on her bed. On the floor lay the open suitcase and her clothes strewn about pell-mell awaiting her eagerly.
“..avunu…kaani…I was with you then…when they see a single girl now…” Amma was now repeating her concern ad nauseum. Shodashi retorted instantly with her well rehearsed answer, “..they who maa? and I am not a girl anymore kadaa …I will call you ..location pedtaa…WA chestaa..this is my job.. let me…” Shodashi was now exasperated, this back and forth transpired every time there was a work trip planned and she had to travel alone.
To keep her word though, as always, Shodashi texted her mother her current location and typed, all fine maa don’t worry, Happy Kartika Poornima, are you going to the temple now?
Her phone rang instantly as though Amma was sitting by the phone willing it to ring. “I was so worried, why did you not call yesterday?”
“I told you na I was busy….the Conference went very well maa..met lots of people who I really admire….and some of them want to work with us….and ..” Amma did not seem the least bit interested so Shodashi changed the topic right away, “Remember the lovely altars to Brahma ji and their ancestors in front of every home here, we wanted to buy one for Hyderabad also …I tried to get one this time…they don’t seem to have small ones that I can carry. This hotel too has an altar, it is so lovely; they put fruits, flowers, food, incense, every morning orchids maa, so pretty, their sense of aesthetics as you know is…” Shodashi could not continue as Amma interrupted her curtly.
“I just checked the schedule of the World Hindu Congress, it finished yesterday it seems, what are you doing there for three more days? Where are you staying? Are you alone? Who is paying for all this…I told you to save money .. …you don’t listen to anyone..what is left in Bangkok to see…” Amma sounded suspicious now.
This was it. Shodashi in a foul mood threw the phone away and stomped out of the hotel wanting to breathe some fresh air and forget the hastily concluded exchange with her mother. It was always the same. Safety Safety Safety. I will grow mould on myself and smell like stale rice with so much safety, Shodashi thought angrily. Am I not concerned about my own safety, will that mean I will hide in a cave all my life!
As soon as she stepped out onto the side street the smell of seafood and pork hit her nose, she recoiled. Regular meat was bad enough, she somehow screwed her nose and got by, she was not used to the smell of fish and pork or …the-meat-of-you-know-what….it made her stomach churn and she felt like vomiting. Even cakes and pastries made of eggs made her nauseous these days. I guess this is the reason the shastras ask a practicing brahmana to stay put in the agraharam and not venture across seas, can’t eat out, can’t walk on the street, can’t find a temple, or river to do sandhya…can’t can’t really can’t. Such were her emotions, all negative.
She looked to the left and to the right, as was habit. The street was neat, clean, with a few passersby and an odd two-wheeler now and then driving by like James Bond. She felt safe here and had the sudden urge to explore the city, prompted by her mother’s phone call. Shodashi looked up towards the sky to gauge the time, might be around 7.00pm, not too late. She peered through the trees to spot the full moon, he seemed to be hiding behind Malaysia Towers. I guess I will have to walk around the building to have a look, she thought.
Across the street a taxi guy who was leisurely smoking a cigarette and waiting for passengers looked towards Shodashi, she might want a ride. He made eye contact and waited for her to respond. Seeing that she was busy trying to spot the full moon, he gesticulated to her, pointing her to her right, towards the main road, towards Rama IV. Muddled by this curious interaction Shodashi went up to the front desk and asked the lady, “Why is that man pointing me towards that direction? What is happening there?” The receptionist broke into a broad smile and said gaily, “Oh that is the way to Lumphini Park ma’am, you must go, it is walking distance, this is the time of year when we all celebrate Loyi Krathong…don’t go to Chao Phraya, the river will be too busy…”
Loyi Krathong. There had been no way to Google what is celebrated on Nov 27 2023 in Bangkok as she had thrown her cell phone away in anger in her hotel room. Now downstairs without it, she had but the road ahead of her and the taxi driver’s encouragement and the receptionist’s exciting information.
My stay is not going to be futile after all.
Shodashi’s mind is joyous suddenly, at the prospect of experiencing something new, local, and cultural. She starts to jog behind a few people walking towards the park or so she thinks, close enough so that she knows where to go but not too close to miss a solo adventure. Did the receptionist say Lumphini or Lumbini? ‘p’ and ‘b’ are interchangeable anyway. Deep in her thoughts Shodashi turns left on Rama IV, and does a simhavalokanam, looking back to check her position. She must remember the lane name. Soi Si Bamphen. Soi Si Bamphen…like a sea bumping with waves…with toppings of soy …yes, this was easy to remember. Her looking back for a few minutes to establish her location proves risky. She has lost her leads. Ayyiyyo! No wonder maa was always at her case, asking her to be careful and reprimanding Shodashi for unnecessary risk taking. But it is only 7.00pm ..ish…and no, no sight of the full moon yet…Bangkok has so many highrises…he is playing hide and seek with me.
Oh! There! Shodashi spots a sea of people crossing the road to the other side and the signal is green, she follows them without asking anything of anyone…let me see where they are all going…must be to Lumphini only…obviously…or maybe not? But most of them are holding something in their palms. She is unable to spot what, given that the sea is surging ahead as though on high tide. She rides the wave and is dumped on the other side successfully. She turns right now, behind the others who are all dressed for a special occasion and with palms held in front of them holding this..this…what is this?
“What is this?” Shodashi asks a kind stranger, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
“It is a krathong”, the answer comes pat with a Thai accent.
“Err..so this…kraatong, krathong yes?..what do you do with it”, before she can get an answer the sea has pushed her kind stranger forward and she is looking at another one who does not seem as friendly. She herself is on automatic mode, lurching ahead without any will. The throng of people are doing it for her.
And then just like that, a Rama IV statue stares down at her regally, standing atop a pedestal in the centre of a park with a fountain, which seem to pay ode to his nobility and valour. From behind him suddenly but shyly appears the paurnami chandra! Today is such a beautiful full moon day, where I come from we light lamps all over, it is as though the whole city is getting married. Shodashi wants to shout aloud to all the people who are taking her to god knows where. She does not resist, nor does she shout.
At one point the crowd rushes towards the stalls on the footpath on her left, where young and old are buying these beautiful ..what are they called…flower decorations…krathongs.. that come with incense, candles, and coins. Shodashi stands by the wayside to watch one being made; the young girl takes the flat round stalk of a banana plant as a base and starts with it, ok. Then she folds some coconut leaves into squares and sticks them on the side, all around the circular perimeter of the stalk, fine. Now orchids and marigolds are brought in, into the round base. What dexterity, what creativity by the side of the road…just like that…under the full moon. This lotus shaped ‘krathong’ is then embellished with incense sticks and a candle to complete the ensemble.
People are buying these by the dozen. Couples walk past Shodashi giggling, hand in hand, holding their diyas. This is how she terms the krathongs in her head - diyas. Shodashi wants to buy one for herself too. Seems like today is the day to be doing whatever this is. She points at one which is all ‘green’; only leaves and flowers, no styrofoam or plastic, well the candle is wax, she wishes it was all made of clay, but this will have to do for now. I am sure I overpaid and I did not even haggle. A golden rule Amma always follows and she feels her mother reproaching her for her lapse.
Shodashi walks in a trance behind a few girls in front of her, all dressed up in their Thai finery, they look so elegant and fine - off shoulder silk tops, shoulders covered with a shiny gauze net, tight A-line Thai silk skirts, held together with a waist band of gold, and orchids in their hair - this nation is overflowing with orchids seems like, she has spotted them everywhere; from restaurants to hotel rooms to conference centres to even bathrooms!
Someone is tugging at her arm, look, look, the lady with a crinkled face says to her. Beautiful. Straight ahead at 12 o’clock is the full moon in all its glory, shining in reflected light, cool with confidence in its own beauty. This older lady smiles at Shodashi and offers her a matchbox. Oh! Yes I must light the candle, she tries to light a match. It takes a while in the 7.30pm breeze for her candle and incense to light. The old women huddle around to help Shodashi light her krathong, as though a civic duty. Finally the candle holds the fire after a few wasted trials. The ladies gesticulate that Shodashi show the krathong to the moon, and so she does. The fire dances in her hands while the moon rays kiss it with affection. The full moon on Kartika here in Bangkok blesses her and her krathong from atop the high rises. He is resplendent in his whiteness and bursting with fullness. Shodashi smiles in spite of herself. Well, Kartika Poornima has many forms, she thinks to herself.
‘Khongkha, Khongkha’ she hears the senior ladies insisting. What does it mean? Unable to communicate any further, Shodashi bids them a heartfelt goodbye, bowing as deep as possible, all the while with this fired up krathong held in her palms and balancing her purse on her left shoulder.
There is a swarm of people; locals and tourists, young and old, girls and boys, people of all hues and colours, their palms ablaze with gratitude serenading the moon and the waters. As she walks mesmerized towards the lake waters to float her krathong, she stops and gasps. Right in front of her, all along the banks of the lake are thousands and thousands of krathongs and small paper boats, the lake is as though ignited with delight. She does not know what to ask for, she closes her eyes, imitating the locals, and gently slides her krathong into the waters. Shodashi has heard of small boats with lamps being sailed along the coast in Odisha during this time, boita bandana they call it. A maritime memory that is recollected across the oceans every year. Is this festival connected to that? Or is it connected to Kartika Poornima? Or maybe both.
She sits down on the banks of the lake, on the grass, with absolute contentment. Shodashi does not feel the need to take pictures, and she cannot as she is without a phone anyway, and she does not feel the need to talk, she is alone anyway. She watches her krathong glide away from her, she gazes after it as a mother watches her child go to school on his first day. Her krathong moves along and stops to dance with the moon on the water. Ha! Enjoy the dance she whispers after it. And then the krathong overturns unexpectedly and the moon catches fire. Her heart skips a beat and bursts out of her being, a volcano of joy envelops the moment. She is here and in the now.
Shodashi is no longer bogged down by the fear of the unknown. Or worries about her safety. She laughs at her and her mother’s unreasonable insecurities and decides on the spur of the moment to walk to the Mariamman temple, the only Hindu temple in the vicinity, which is thirty minutes away. The arcakas will be taking up the sacred flame to the top of the gopuram just about now, and I shall watch the full moon catch fire tonight, once again!
The walk back to the hotel takes longer than expected. Silom is a long road. So is Rama IV. Parts of the road are deserted and there are some vagabonds here and there, not too many …still, she must be alert. Unlike Hyderabad where the shops are open until late here the whole road seems quiet and closed. Is it because of the festival? Maybe. But it is only around 9.00pm, why close so early! She starts walking a bit faster, increasing her pace. Shodashi knows the route well, even without a phone. All her travels have helped her navigate directions seamlessly. Walking is not an issue, nor is the route, it is the time of the day …..actually the time of the night that is the problem. Without a phone, without any cash on her, she is unable to take a tuk-tuk either. She could have kept the last of the bills on her for a ride back to the hotel but Amma had taught her never to visit anyone including a temple empty handed. Hence the last of her 20 baht note had gone into the hundi.
Lost in her thoughts and in her hurry to reach her hotel, Shodashi trips and falls! A young man lends his hand immediately and few other men rush in to offer assistance. She gets up quickly, dusts herself, and rushes away from them, thanking them in hindsight from over her shoulder. It is a pity I have to doubt their intentions, she thinks to herself. She does not feel any threat from them. Women can sense these things. The young man who had helped her had offered her a ride back to where she wanted, in English, with a smile too. She feels she can trust that smile. Yet, Amma’s words of caution ring in her ears.
The moon that caught fire keeps her company for the rest of her walk. She is not alone.
Back in the hotel room, way past normal hours, safe and sound, without any other untoward incident to mar the gorgeous evening, Shodashi finally asks Siri for answers she has been seeking for the past few hours: Khongkha is Goddess Ganga, says Siri. Oh! So today is the day when Thais pay respect to the waters, personified as Ganga! And they do it by floating (loyi) krathongs on rivers, lakes, ponds, seas.
Happy Kartika Poornima! Happy Loyi Krathong! Shambhavi, her sister has just texted her from India. Thai people are our civilizational cousins, replies Shodashi, more when we meet.