Idols, Marigolds, and Anachronisms

Yesterday I passed a small procession walking down the
street. The procession, composed of a small hutch on
wheels preceded by 2 people and followed by 2 people
slowly trundled down a busy street. The hutch, nothing
more than an old fruit crate, was covered in bright
marigolds and inside sat an idol covered in marigolds,
purple flowers, and long, smoking sticks of incense.
Ironically for me, the women wore rather plain saris,
although beautiful, sheer fabric cowled their heads.
The men wore scrubby pants and shirts, looking no
different from others on the street. All 4 were
dreadfully thin with very long, wiry arms and legs.
One banged a drum while the other 3 held out their
hands for money. This is a frequent sight, people
asking for money for their god in a display bedecked by
marigolds. My task before leaving India is to discover
the significance of marigolds for they shine out
everywhere; on rickshaws, trucks, over doorways,
and sometimes strung over the rear view mirror.

Shortly after passing the display a cart drawn by 2
cows passed me. The cows' horns had been painted bright
red and a wreath of marigolds strung over the yoke.
I still reflect on the anachrony of this method of
transport as trucks, rickshaws, and cars whiz by on
either side of the poor beasts.

I know anachrony isn't really a word but it seems to fit here.