“Woh Mumbai, Woh Bappa, Woh Bachpan”

 Ganpati makes me nostalgic. ❤️

Every childhood memory seems to be woven around Bappa — celebrating him, enjoying those soft, warm modaks, dressing up, dancing on the stage for him, and waking up every morning with that excitement of *“aaj kya hoga?”* The sound of the dhol, the aarti, the decorations, the prasad, the lights, the little competitions, running around the building, meeting people you hardly knew but somehow felt like family during those five days…

Those five beautiful days are memories I will always treasure.

Nobody celebrates Bappa better than Mumbai people. The joy, the madness, the willingness to share happiness, the *bindaas* spirit of coming together and simply celebrating — it was unmatched.

There was something so beautiful about those celebrations. You didn't need a perfect outfit, a perfect backdrop or a camera-ready face. You just came as you were. You danced. You clapped. You shouted *Ganpati Bappa Morya!* You ate one more modak even after saying you wouldn't. 😂 You stood in the queue for darshan, squeezed into tiny spaces, sat on someone's doorstep, shared prasad with strangers and somehow everyone belonged.

I remember those small things the most — the excitement of hearing the dhol from far away, running downstairs when the procession passed, waiting for the aarti, trying to get the biggest piece of prasad, staying awake a little longer because something was happening downstairs, and the sadness that would slowly creep in when visarjan came closer.

Somewhere, I feel that aura has been lost.

Today, we have bigger houses, more money to spend, beautiful decorations, picture-perfect celebrations and a hundred photographs to capture every moment. We are more conscious about calories, appearances and how everything looks on social media.

But are we still celebrating the way we used to?

Gone are the days when the smallest chawl room, a tiny building corner or a modest home could come alive with so much happiness. Mumbai's chawls and small homes still somehow hold on to that essence — the feeling that Bappa doesn't need grandeur. He needs people. He needs joy. He needs that willingness to come forward, let go of inhibitions and simply celebrate.

Today we have more space around us, more things to buy, more ways to celebrate… and yet sometimes, there is an emptiness that wasn't there when we had so little.

Such is the irony of life.

Maybe that is why Ganpati makes me so nostalgic.

Because somewhere between the modaks, the music, the crowded lanes, the sweaty dancing, the shared prasad and those five magical days, childhood taught us something we seem to be forgetting —

**Joy was never about how perfect the celebration looked.

Joy was about how completely we lived it.**

Ganpati Bappa Morya. ❤️

**Morya re Bappa! 🙏✨**