Today is Ganesh Chathurti in India.

As a child, the first day of Ganesh Chathurti was the best day of the whole year.

Today is Ganesh Chathurti in India.

As a child, the first day of Ganesh Chathurti was the best day of the whole year.

I’d wake up already bouncing, because I knew the house wouldn’t be quiet like usual.

You could smell the incense even before breakfast, and the verandah would be covered in flowers, bright orange and yellow marigolds hanging in big loops that brushed against my head when I ran past.

Everyone was rushing about, the cooks clattering trays, the ayahs laughing, and I’d get in the way on purpose just to feel part of it.

And then, boom, boom, boom, the drums. You could hear them long before you saw anything, and my heart would go mad, thumping just like them.

I’d tear down the hall barefoot, sliding on the tiles, because I couldn't bear to miss a second.

At the gates there’d be shouting and singing and suddenly he’d appear, Lord Ganesha or Ganpati as he's called in Mumbai, the elephant god, all red and gold and glitter, carried high on shoulders like a king.

I knew from the staff that he was the god who brought luck and cleared away problems, the one people prayed to when they wanted things to go right. Everyone loved him.

They said he adored sweets, so of course I liked him instantly.

To me he wasn’t just a god, he was the most wonderful guest you could ever imagine, come to stay in our house for ten whole days.

The priest would stand in the middle of the drawing room, bells ringing so hard my ears buzzed, his voice rolling out prayers that seemed to fill the whole house.

I didn’t know the words, but I didn’t care. I’d squeeze in between the gardeners and the house staff, smoke in my nose, petals in my hair, feeling like the room was alive.

And then, my favourite bit, the sweets. Great towers of laddus, sticky and hot, and modaks, little dumplings stuffed with coconut that melted in your mouth.

I’d shove them in as fast as I could, orange sugar all over my face, and no one told me off because everyone was too busy laughing and clapping.

My parents said they did it all for the staff, but I loved it as much as anyone.

For those days the whole house felt like it belonged to Ganesh, and I felt like the luckiest child in India, if not the world.