Bappa’s Favorite: Besan Laddus

     There was a celebration in heaven. Everyone was present in Lord Shiva's court. The music of veenas floated through the air, and the hall was filled with the divine fragrance of incense.

       Amid all this festivity, a question came to mind of Narada — a question which hushed the music and made every almighty lean forward. The ever-curious sage Narada spoke up, his eyes twinkling with mischief. O divine ones, tell me, what is the ultimate sign of life completeness? Which offering holds within it the essence of creation?

      After a long, silent murmuring of other gods in the assembly, Agni, the god of fire, rose, his presence radiant like a blazing flame. Holding a flame in his palm, he said, no cooking, no sustenance, no offering exists without me, he said.

        Before the words of Lord Agni had settled, Varuna, lord of the waters, rose, and his voice flowed like a river. But Agni, without me, no seed can grow, no crop can grow. I am the stream of life, the donor of food, the giver of nourishment. If anyone is the essence, it is me.

          The court hummed — some to Agni, some to Varuna. The argument had started. Indra, proud and radiant, thundered, it’s rain that blesses the soil. I am the bearer of abundance. Their words were like waves, and none could rest the matter.

      At that moment, as the debate continued, little Ganesha toddled forward — his round belly swaying, eyes twinkling with knowing calm. In his little hands, he bore no crown, no scripture, no jewel. Instead, he was holding a golden besan laddu, with the smell of ghee in it, and the light of it more than all the lamps around it.

        The gods laughed, A laddu? This child, who has a sweet, when the wisest among us have the elements of creation? Ganesh ji smiled. He put the laddu in the middle of the court and spoke in a voice that was calm yet more powerful than thunder. Look well, honored ones. Not only sweet, but this is the circle of life itself. And like the universe, infinite and complete. Golden as the sun, the bringer of power and hope. Sweet as love, which only ties families, homes, and the world together.

          Each grain of besan in this laddu is like the multitudes of the universe- tiny in itself, but, when mixed with ghee, sugar, and fire, it becomes a whole, indivisible, complete. The court went silent. The deities bowed in respect. And more, when one eats it, the stomach feels full but not heavy. The heart is satisfied, and the mind becomes calm. Is this not what life itself desires — sustenance without load, sweetness without overabundance?

          Narada stared. Bappa is right indeed. The laddu is not commonplace. It is the totality of the combination of grain, sweetness, strength, and joy. Lord Shiva smiled. Maa Parvati was proud of the wisdom of her son. Even Vishnu and Brahma nodded their heads. Thus, since then, the plain besan laddu has lived to eternity. It was not only a sweetmeat of the earth but the favourite prasad of Lord Ganesh.

         When the devotees offer laddus to him, they do not just give food, but a golden token of completeness, wealth, and the sweetness of gods. And it is said that even on earth, when a child bites into a laddu, then the circle of that old story is closed once more — innocence and wisdom, joy and nourishment.

               That is why, even after thousands of years, no Ganesh Chaturthi can be complete without a plate of besan laddus. Not only does it have the flavour of ghee and grain, but it also has a legacy of a god who showed that the simplest things often hold the greatest truths.