Elephants and thunderstorms

It is raining. Correction - it is bucketing down, and from time to time the electricity goes off. It started around 9 last night with the absolute mother-and-father of thunderstorms, Today it's been cool and dry until around 4, when the heavens opened and the power went down again. 
It didn't stop an elephant strolling up the road, carrying a shrine to one of the Hindu gods, accompanied by a band of drummers and a parade of the faithful. It seems to be a time  of religious festival, in addition to all the excitement of the elections. Consequently, after hearing that there would be something going on at a nearby village, some of us took a cab last night to find out what was going on.

The elephant arrives at the temple

We took one of India's miniaturised taxis to the temple, which stood in a field, a few miles from Mattindia. The final section of the approach road had posts strung up with bunting and lights, and there was a large stage and powerful audio system. My guess is that this had all been paid for by one of the political parties for an electioneering rally, and then made available to the local community for the festival. It certainly gave the tiny village facilities for the event, on a far more lavish scale than one would might normally expect in such a remote, rural area. 

The mahout fixes the elephant's headdress

There were not many people around, maybe a hundred or two at most, with the children racing around, or playing at performing on the stage. Adults of all ages wandered over to our little group with warm smiles and the universal greeting, "You are from where, please?" 
There was a troupe of drummers and also a duo comprising a man with a kind of clarinet and a performance drummer.
The final touch for the elephant was the shrine to one of the Hindu gods that was fixed on the elephant's back, while the mahout sat behind with a colleague holding an ornate parasol.

The musician serenades the elephant, now carrying the shrine

The essentials of local festivals go across all religions and groups, like the Madonna being taken out of the church and paraded around the town in Roman Catholic countries, or the Mothers' Union banner being carried in the St George's Day parade in an English parish celebration. And, for that matter, not so very different from the days when the Trades Unions marched with their Union banners behind the works brass band.

We jumped out of our skins when deafening mortars were discharged, and the drums struck up for a procession, led by the elephant, who seemed not in the least perturbed by either the raucous music or the fireworks. It was all very colourful, although, like the procession behind the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary on Saints' days when I lived in Italy, the event was rather lacking in enthusiasm, and dominated by devout little old ladies with a few excited children. 

The elephant leads the succession of processions round the temple grounds

But it was colourful and noisy, and we were made to feel like honoured guests amidst the faithful of the little rural community.
Next day the rain returned in the afternoon, rattling on the tin roof, bouncing high off the concrete driveway and drenching anyone who dared to run even a few yards.
But nothing could dampen my enthusiasm for this time in Kerala, and I am now thinking about my trip in a couple of days' time, up into the hills then down to the backwaters. 
I shouldn't have any problem finding things to write about.

View from my balcony as the rain teems down