Panduranga Vittala - eight short stories - by Bharat Bhushan by Bharat Bhushan
These 'Shtories' are taken from events, books, places and people that have become integral 'shtuff' in my life. I have been associated with them, or participated in most of the 'shtories'. Some are written here with an extremely liberal amount of fiction in them. Some are factual essays, short stories or analyses. Some are absolute nonsense while some shtories mark 'shmile shtones' in our lives. Enjoy!
Showing posts with label Panduranga. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Panduranga. Show all posts
Panduranga Vittala!!! - the boy whose absence did not matter to anyone...
in white, millions,
walking, chanting....
immersed, O Vittala!
His family was very keen to go on the
palkhi and it was a family tradition that everyone would participate,
walk, serve and provide support. His father, Mukundrao Kulkarni, had purchased
a hundred semi-woollen blankets to be given to those who would need them in the
palkhi, while his uncles had similarly procured raincoats, slippers,
caps, medicines and floor-mats. His mother had prepared at least 500 food
packets of dry snacks that would be good-to-eat for more than 3-4 days while on
the palkhi. His grandfather, Shyamrao Kulkarni, was very keen to be part
of the palkhi and walk for some part of the day for the next 4-5 days.
Rameshwar figured that it would be
good to speak to his grandfather and present the request that he may be allowed
to go to the cricket team selections and not participate in the palkhi
with the family. In any case, who would notice that he was not in the great
walk, since there would be hundreds of thousands of warkaris walking
from Dehu and Alandi to Pandharpur. Gathering up courage, the youngster
cornered his grandfather when he was in a good mood and presented his case. He
could see that his grandfather was not agreeing with him, and therefore he
presented his grand argument – who would notice his absence, when there were so
many in the palkhi?
That argument seemed to have won
his case, for his grandfather agreed to speak to the family. They had a family
conference, his parents, his grandfather, his uncles, and elder sisters. He sat
quietly, away from the dinner table, pretending to check and clean his cricket
kit. His father and grandfather were discussing the issue between them, and
finally he heard his grandfather present his best argument, as to who would
notice his absence. Everybody smiled at that statement, including his uncles,
who normally did not agree with his cricket and other hobbies. Rameshwar’s
mother kept smiling and laughing and said, “Yes.... he does not know... who
will actually notice his absence. Let him go to his cricket. He will learn
about his absence.”
Mukundrao Kulkarni spoke to his
son, “You know that you are a big boy now. You can take your own decisions.
There was no need to speak to your grandfather first. You could have told me or
your mother. Anyway, let it be. Go for your cricket selection trials. After
all, we have purchased the best cricket set for you, and it cost a lot of
money. And, you have practiced for the trials through this year and you played
well in some of the matches.” Then, there seemed to be a moment, for they were
all smiling at him, including his grandfather. His mother spoke, adding to his
father’s permission, and she was smiling when she said, “Go to your cricket.
There is no need to worry about the palkhi. After all, as you said, who
will notice your absence?”
Rameshwar was puzzled about their
amusement at his grand argument, but he was happy that he had gotten away from
the palkhi. His family was to leave for the pilgrimage within an hour or
so, and he picked up his cricket kit, extra running shoes and track suit and
whatever, and escaped from the house. The stadium and selection trials location
was nearby and he walked it up to the grounds. The other boys were already
there, and he could see that Mr. Venkat, the cricket coach, was looking angry
and upset at his late arrival. There were cricket coaches from other schools
and the selection team from the district cricket board was busy writing notes.
Mr. Venkat rushed him to the nets
and got him ready and had him batting it out against a series of bowlers of all
types. There were pacers, medium pacers and spinners. He kept his wicket, and
played it cautiously in the beginning, and later opened out, cracking the balls
all about the ground. After all, he had the best cricket bat that money could
buy, and the best cricket kit that any school boy could have. He had had the
best training and he knew that he was the best in the ground, in the selection
trials. He could now see the smile on Mr. Venkat.
His cricket bat was making the
sweetest of sounds as it hit the leather ball. Clean, sharp and a very loud
sound that could be heard by the selectors. There was another boy, at the nets
alongside his, and he was hitting the ball hard, but the sound was not as sharp
or loud as his bat could. Rameshwar looked at the boy with disdain, for his
clothes were soiled, and his bat looked very old. He was trying his best, for
he had also kept his wicket through the tryout, and he was hitting the ball
hard, but the difference between the two was very obvious.
Their batting time slot was over,
and Rameshwar and the scrappy looking boy walked to the tents that had been set
up. Rameshwar went to his school tent, while the other boy was sitting out in
the open, amongst other similar looking boys. He asked his coach, “Sir, why are
those boys sitting in the open? Does their school not have a tent like ours?”
Mr. Venkat replied, “No. Those boys are not from any particular school in Pune.
They are from the rural schools. They are selected in a group and they come here
from different villages. They are not from any single school. The tents belong
to the schools that have brought them here.”
Rameshwar was told that there would
be time for the selections to be announced. They would initially name a list of
thirty boys, and there would be a second round of selections, and they would
later name a list of fifteen. Knowing that there would be time, Rameshwar went
off to walk around the canteen and the other food-stalls that were outside the
stadium. There were food-stalls serving simple vada pav and misal pav.
One of the good food-stalls was also serving a simple pizza and burgers.
That would be good, he thought, and he had been given a good amount of money to
take care of himself for the next 4-5 days. He was King of himself, for the
next few days, and he could easily afford to treat himself to a pizza, he
thought.
Rameshwar was worried. His mother had taught him that he should always share his food. And now, this boy from rural Pune was sitting in front of him, with two bananas, and obviously with very less money. He had his precious pizza and coke, and his mind went about like, "Share! Do not Share! Share! Do not Share!" Giving up on the dilemma, Rameshwar split his pizza and offered it to the scrappy boy, who said, "Bhau! Thank you. I do not know what it is. I have heard the word 'pizza' but I do not know if it is vegetarian or non-vegetarian. I do not know these good looking food items. And today is the first day of the palkhi, so, I went and got myself these two bananas. My parents had told me to eat only 'good' food."
He felt like he had been slapped by his mother. His parents, uncles and grandfather had not eaten anything in the morning, and they had decided to first seek the blessings of Sant Dnyaneshwar's palkhi rath and only later would they eat something simple. Anyway, this boy did not know that his family was going to the palkhi, so it would not matter. In any case, he could now eat the entire pizza. But, the boy was saying something, and he listened, "Bhau! Here, you can have one banana. I will get some more. My family is at the palkhi and they told me that the prayers would be at 11 am, and I can safely eat anything else after that."
Rameshwar quietened his mind and relaxed at the boy's sincerity. He asked him, "Where are you from? How come you had that old bat that could not hit the ball with force? You kept your wicket intact through the entire trials, and yet, it may difficult to impress the selectors." The boy replied, "I am Govind, and I am from Junnar. My school has a good cricket team, and we won some of the regional tournaments. My school has sent our team players to Mumbai for selections in some of the companies that play Kanga league. That way our boys will get jobs in Mumbai. That's why I have the oldest bat from the school. All the good bats and kit were taken by the boys who need jobs."
Puzzled, Rameshwar asked, "Do you not need a job then? Why are you here for the selection trials for inter-school teams?" Govind, the scrappy boy replied, "I did want to go with them. But, I could not get permission from my family. They have already left for the palkhi and will be at Alandi today. They gave me permission to attend the selection trials and I will be joining them today in the evening at Pune city. I am sure that the selectors will not select me, for I do not have a good bat, and I do not look as good as the city boys. I know that I am good, and I would be a good player, but, I cannot compete against the good schools in the city. I wanted to try out, and I wanted to keep my wicket and show that I am a good player. Rest, I leave it up to Panduranga."
"Panduranga? How is he going to help?" asked Rameshwar, "You need to compete properly, don't you? You have to do your work. How can a god come and help you in the selection trials?" Govind, the scrappy boy, smiled, raised his hands and gestured at the heavens and went away to the stadium. Rameshwar finished eating up his pizza and coke and went to his school tent. Mr. Venkat was eating up his lunch, and asked for all the boys to check their cricket kits and get ready for the second round of selection. Rameshwar looked out at the open ground to locate Govind, who was sitting under the hot sun, looking very happy and content.
The selection lists were announced and the thirty boys lined up. Rameshwar stood next to Govind, and looked happy for him. Govind was also smiling, and told him, "See, you asked about Panduranga. He sees, and he knows. He knows that I am absent from the palkhi, and he wants me there, with my parents, and he wants me to come to him, walking all the way. He does not want me here in the cricket team. Mind you, I am sure that I will not be in the final fifteen. But, I am going to go out there, and give it my best."
Again, Rameshwar felt the slap from his mother. He closed his eyes. He could see her. She was smiling. She was saying, "Do not worry, my son. Go ahead and play. Nobody will notice your absence. Win your place in the team and make us proud. We have spent a lot of money in your cricket and you should not let us down. We want to see you in the team." They were together again, he and Govind, paired up for the third round of nets, to bat it out side by side.
He looked at Govind, slowly and without making it obvious. He did not have cricket shoes. He seemed to have coloured them white, using some paint, but they were definitely not cricket shoes. His trousers were two sizes larger, and must have been borrowed. The gloves were torn, and so were the pads. He had placed white tape over the spots, but they had become dirty and it was easily seen. The bat was perhaps from some very old times, and had been used for many many years. But, it looked strong and capable. Govind looked up at Rameshwar and was smiling, and said, "You are looking at my kit. Yes. I know that I do not have a good kit for playing today. But, I am in the final selection. So that means, that this bat has some value at least. I will go back to join my family in the palkhi and will tell them that I tried my best, but that Panduranga Vittala had other plans for me. They will understand."
Mr. Venkat was standing nearby and he had heard the entire discussion. In one brief moment, Rameshwar made up his mind and looked at Mr. Venkat. He seemed to understand and perhaps he could guess as to what was to happen. Rameshwar spoke to Govind, and said, "Here, take my bat and my kit. You go out and play the best you can. I will take my chance in the next nets after you. I will take back my kit. This is your best chance. You keep talking about Panduranga Vittala, and that he will notice your absence in the palkhi. That is not possible. You have to give your best where you are, and not worry about him."
Govind, the scrappy boy seemed to be about to break out in tears. They changed their kits rapidly, and he went out to show his skills. Mr. Venkat replaced Rameshwar's place with another boy from the same school. Both of them watched Govind smash the bowlers all over the stadium. They could see the difference in the batting, and the change in the boy's confidence. He was enjoying himself. Mr. Venkat turned to Rameshwar and asked him if he would like to take his place in the next round of nets.
Rameshwar replied, "No, Sir. Let that boy keep my kit. He is a good player. You may please forgive me. I will leave the selection trials and go and join my family at the palkhi. They would be waiting for me. Please tell him that I wanted him to have the entire cricket kit. I am leaving my kit bags also for him along with the shoes and track suits. I cannot carry them with me in the palkhi. Tell him to call me on my cellphone and let me know the names of his parents and the number of their dindi. I will meet them and tell them that he could not join them on the palkhi. And that it does not matter, for who will notice his absence in the palkhi?"
Within a couple of hours, Rameshwar was at the outskirts of Alandi, and had spoken to his sister and figured out the location of his family. The entire family was at a stall of a volunteer group and were helping out. They had already distributed the stuff that they had brought with them, and his grandfather was just about completing his two hour walk with the palkhi. Nobody seemed surprised to see Rameshwar join them at the stall. The uncles were smiling and so was his father and mother. Shyamrao, his grandfather, came up and saw Rameshwar standing with the family and asked, "What happened? Did you not get selected?"
"I was about to get selected, but then, I gave away my kit bag and cricket bag, shoes and track suits to a boy from Junnar. He did not have a good kit with him, and he was playing very good cricket," Rameshwar replied, "His parents are also on the palkhi, and he was sure that he would not get selected, and so he wanted to join his parents and walk with them on the entire palkhi. He was sure that Panduranga Vittala would notice his absence in the palkhi, and therefore would not select him for the inter-school tournaments. He did not have any idea of how good a cricketer he was. So, I gave him my entire kit."
He waited for their anger, and his father's comments about how he had wasted their money on the best cricket kit that there could be, as he often said. But, they were all smiling and laughing at him. His mother said, "Rameshwara, O Rameshwara, you were the one who said that your absence would not matter. And you are worried that the other boy's absence would indeed matter? See... Do you see what happened? Your absence did matter to Panduranga Vittala, and he wanted you here, with us. And you gave that boy's parents the happiness that they would want, for they did not want their son with them. They wanted their son to achieve what was due to him, and you helped them. There is no mystery in his ways, my son."
Glossary
aai = Mother
abhang = hymns composed by the great saints of Maharashtra.
Ashaadhi = the Hindu Calendar month during June-July
ashtavinayaka = the pilgrimage to eight sacred destinations in western Maharashtra, with eight of the most well-known temples to Lord Ganesha.
atya = Aunt, usually, father's sister.
bawa, bawaji = an affectionate word to call out to a Parsi, usually for men. Only if you are a close friend.
beti = Daughter
bhagawantha = God.
bhau = brother
chapati = cooked wheat flat cakes, like a roti. An Indian-style tortilla.
dada = elder brother or grandfather
dhaba = roadside food place. With informal arrangements.
Dindis = the group-units of pilgrims participating in the wari.
Dnyanba = Sant Shri Dnyaneshwar of Alandi
keertan, keertankar = hymns sung as a song. The singer, usually a respected veteran, is known as a keertankar. Groups of devotees sing together with the keertankar and have established routines and sequences.
lungi = a sarong-type of dress, worn below the waist, comfortably with an easy tuck-in.
Maro Dikri = 'my daughter' - a favoured term in Parsi and Gujarati lingo.
Mauli = Devotee of Panduranga. Also a form of greeting in recognition of the other person's faith in Panduranga Vittala.
misal pav = snack dish. Comprising deep-fried and soaked cereals and savouries immersed in a curry with bread loaves.
namaste = salutation, with folded hands, in front of the chest. In respect.
paadukas = the sacred symbolic feet-impressions of deities or sages
palkhi = the pilgrimage from Dehu-Sant Tukaram temple and Alandi-Sant Dnyaneshwar temple via Pune to Pandharpur in Solapur District, Maharashtra
policewallah = policeman
prasad = sacred offerings presented to the deities. Some part of it is usually returned to the devotee.
qaidi = prisoner
rath = chariot, usually pulled by oxen during the palkhi from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur
Sabarimala yatra = pilgrimage in Kerala to Lord Ayyappa.
tai = Sister
Tuka, Tuka says, Tukaram = Sant Tukaram of Dehu. His renditions in praise of Panduranga Vittala are the abhangs that are remembered through hundreds of years. They are popularly known as "Tuka says..."
upma = dish made of semolina.
vada pav = a snack, with origins from Maharashtra - comprising a bread loaf sandwiching a deep-fried potato dish.
vaikhunta = passed away. Gone ahead to the great heavens above.
veena = stringed instrument used by warkaris to strum and recite
veenkari = the person who wears the veena around his neck and chants God's name.
wari = the annual June-July (ashaadhi) pilgrimage from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur.
warkaris = traditional pilgrims - devotees of Panduranga Vittala, the deity at Pandharpur - who walk from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur, covering nearly 200 kms
Yaa = Come. A form of invitation in affection.
Panduranga Vittala!!! - the man who did not remember his name.
eager faces, footsteps,
so far away, yet, near...
Vittala! O Vittala!!
His mother, Indu, had warned him about it. Raghu worried that his father, Kala, would once again travel with others from the village and join the palkhi from Alandi to Pandharpur. He had wanted to go with them but his father had refused. In a couple of years, only if he really wanted to go on the palkhi, could he go, was his advice. You should not go because your neighbours are going, he had instructed. HE will call you, and you will know that the time has come, only then, and not before, you will know.
They would be leaving tomorrow, his mother told him, and she had asked him to be ready to wish them at the village temple. Raghu was puzzled. How would Panduranga Vittala call him? How would he know that the correct time had come? Do such things really happen? He had faith in his father. He knew that he could not be wrong. If he said that such and such thing would happen, it would. It always did.
They saw them off at the temple, twenty warkaris, determined to go all the way from their village to Alandi and join the palkhi. They would of course return along with the palkhi and stop for awhile at a village nearby, Shivri, when they would be on their way towards Pandharpur. For years, and several generations, the Sant Dnyaneshwar palkhi halted at Shivri, and conducted prayers, before proceeding enroute. Raghu's mother was keen to go ahead to Shivri and join her sister, Ashwini, who was a resident of the village, and prepare to wait for the palkhi.
Raghu was left alone at his house with his grandparents, Supa and Anandi, both past their eighties. He loved it, for Supa was known to tell the best stories, and he had always spoken to Raghu about the palkhi. The old man had walked in the palkhi for more than fifty years, at least, and perhaps more. He knew about all the activities in the palkhi and he would tell Raghu about what would be happening, at each hour, every day. The stories were filled with all the good details and they made the young 10-year-old Raghu more determined to go out there, and join the palkhi.
Supa advised Raghu against running away to join the palkhi. That would not be the right thing to do, he said. So, Raghu waited for the palkhi to come to Shivri. He would take his grandparents with him to his mother's sister's house on the night before. The first of the warkaris would start walking through, trying to stay ahead of the palkhi. They were stragglers, and Raghu could meet them at night and in the early dawn and give them some help. The nearby villages set up camp along the roadside to help the pilgrims with water, food, blankets and places to sleep and take rest. He would set up help for the warkaris at his aunt's cropfields. They had a deep well and an electric pump, and Raghu was allowed to operate it, only for the palkhi. He would pump up the water and fill up the open tanks. The warkaris could use the water for drinking or cooking or bathing.
Raghu and his grandparents were taken by their neighbour in his tractor-trailer to Shivri. After a hasty dinner at Ashwini's house, the three of them, Supa, Anandi and Raghu walked up to the small shed on the farm and set up their camp for the next 3-4 days. It was almost dusk and his grandparents were eagerly looking forward to be of service to all the hundreds of thousands of pilgrims who would be walking by. They settled down to sleep in the shed and after a while, the rains began. A slow drizzle at first, and kept increasing in spate, through the night.
He could not sleep that night. He thought about his father and if it was raining at Dehu and Alandi and Pune. He was restless and struggled to fall asleep as he feared for his father. He had been unwell through the year and had been treated for pneumonia in the monsoon. Would he be sensible enough to stay safe and healthy, Raghu wondered. His grandmother, Anandi, could sense his worries, and she sat up and told him not to worry. His father, Kala, knew how to take care of himself. He had been on the palkhi for so many years, that he would know about what to do. No warkari from Purandhar had ever given up during the palkhi in hundreds of years, she told Raghu.
Raghu kept chatting with his grandmother while Supa was snoring away blissfully. They had a warm fire burning inside. There were some cattle in the shed, including cows, oxen and buffaloes, three dogs and a bunch of poultry, all resting away, out of the rain. The shed was warm, and the fire was comfortable, but it was too intoxicating for Raghu. He felt suffocated inside, and went out to sit in the covered porch, and watch the rain. It must have been about past midnight, he guessed, as he saw the express bus for Baramati drive by. There was no other traffic and he could see the wet road lit up with the faint moonlight shining down.
As he sat there, watching the silent and glistening road, he saw, suddenly, a ghostly shadow, a sort of something that was moving out on the road. It seemed to be a man, walking steadily, in the heavy rain, without fear and without any hesitation. It was crazy to walk in such conditions. Raghu called out to his grandparents, and they came out on the porch to watch. Supa agreed with Anandi that it was very foolish for that man to walk on like that. Was he a warkari? He was certainly not moving towards Pune. He did not dress like a warkari. Anandi gave two thick plastic rainsheets to Raghu and asked him to go out on the road and fetch the man to the warmth of the shed.
The young boy went out in the rain and caught up with the man walking on the road. He held him by his hand and the man did not protest. Raghu gave him the dry rainsheet and the man accepted it as a simple matter of fact and walked back to the shed. Supa rushed him inside the shed and made him remove all his clothes. The man obeyed silently and dressed himself in some old clothes that were given to him by Raghu. They made him sit near the fire and waited for him to get warm and comfortable. Raghu watched him quietly and wondered about his madness in walking so calmly in this desolate road at midnight in the pouring storm.
Anandi got busy making tea. Raghu and Supa watched the strange man. He seemed like a very different person, unlike anyone from the Purandhar area. Tall, very fair, army-style haircut, broad shouldered and without any jewellery or tattoos. The strange man sat silently, welcoming the warmth of the fire. Raghu passed on the cup of tea to him, took his own, and leaned on the sleeping buffalo nearby. Familiar with his antics, the buffalo did not get disturbed and did not push him away. The four of them drank their cups of tea quietly, watching the fire. They were content to be dry and warm and out of the pouring rain.
Supa asked the obvious question, "O Mauli! Where are you from? Why were you walking in this heavy rain at midnight on this road? This is a busy road, and at night, any vehicle could have killed you." The strange man looked at Supa, and replied, calmly, "I do not know. I do not know my name. I do not know where am I from. For the past 6-7 days, I have been walking on different roads, and sitting at different bus-stands and railway stations. But, I do not remember. I do not know why I was walking on this street. The rain did not bother me. I did not notice it at all. I kept walking in the sun, and I kept walking when it became dark. It started to rain, and I was happy. It was something different."
Raghu, Supa and Anandi looked at the strange man, amazed. Anandi asked, "You do not remember anything about yourself at all? Oh! You poor man! You look like you are from a good family. You speak Marathi properly. So surely, you are from Maharashtra. Do you know Marathi from a long time?" The strange man smiled at the question, and replied, "Tai, you are the first person to help me in this manner. Nobody thought it to be significant that I spoke to them in Marathi. I spoke to so many people, and nobody could help me as you did, in one single statement. And in one single question, you have helped me."
Supa laughed loudly and said, "O Mauli! Do not worry. You are in our village now. We will not send you away at all. You are a good problem for this boy's grandmother to take care of. This is a sacred land. You are her second son now. The ways of Panduranga Vittala are mysterious, my Raghunatha. Do you see what is he trying to do? Did you not ask me as to how will he talk to you? Did you not ask me as to how he will tell you that it would be time for you to do something different? Do you not see him talking to us now? O Ranga! O Panduranga!! What a problem you have given us today!!!"
Raghu wondered at Supa's laughter and statements. How was this strange man related to Panduranga Vittala? How would this man's presence be symbolic of a message from his god to him about the palkhi? How was this strange man who did not know his name be a message from god? Watching Raghu's puzzled look, Supa laughed again, and said, "Why do you think it to be impossible? This is not the end of the story, for it is you who saw him in the rain. Why was he walking here? And, why did you go out of the shed? This is HIS language, for this is the way HE talks to us. HE gives us problems, ay! ay! ay! Only when he gives us very big problems, then it makes it difficult to give up on them, my boy! What a terrific problem he has given us!"
The strange man smiled at the banter between the old man and the young boy. He spoke to Raghu, "He is right, you know. I did not know why I walked, and why I came here. I am here now, and as your grandmother said, I am now in your care. You have to help me. If your grandfather says that this is the language of god, then, I believe him. Now, as of now, I have nobody else but the three of you." The young boy looked at his grandfather, puzzled, as Supa nodded in agreement. Anandi watched them all in a very bemused and indulgent manner. There had been many an event in their lives, and Supa and Anandi had walked in the palkhi for many long years. She had an unquestioned faith in the aspect of Panduranga Vittala and she knew within her that there would be an ultimate reason in this sudden development. For now, she asked everyone to go to sleep, for tomorrow, early dawn, the first of the warkaris would start walking by.
Early next day, Supa and Raghu were awake and away by dawn, cleaning the water pump and arranging the bathing, resting and cooking areas for the groups that would come by. Across the road and nearer to Shivri, other villagers were doing the same. Raghu's mother, Indu, and her sister, Ashwini, came up to them to help and Raghu excitedly told them the story of the strange man of the night. Both the ladies listened in an amused way and did not make any comment. Raghu was disappointed. He had thought that they would be shocked or eager to go and see the strange man for themselves, but they did not seem to be excited at all. They kept helping Supa and this made Raghu more upset. Angrily, he asked his mother, "Aai, do you know that Dada thinks that this is my test, by Panduranga. He says that HE has sent him to me. I am supposed to help him. How is that possible?"
Indu and Ashwini nodded in agreement. Indu said, "Listen to your grandfather. This is Dnyanba's palkhi to Panduranga himself that is about to come to our village. Why do you think ten lakh people walk all the way to Pandharpur? Everywhere else, wherever there is a temple to Vittala, on the month of Ashaadh, why do another twenty lakh people become so keen to worship him? They can see him, my son, and they talk to him. HE does not talk to us the way we talk to each other. That is not the language of the gods. They show us our way. Vittala himself has chosen to talk to you. My son, you are blessed. What would you do now? You have been allowed to see him in this strange man. He has no name, and he does not know himself. You are truly blessed, my son, for you have to decide about how to help him!"
Anandi called out to them from within the shed, and there he was. The strange man, dressed in Supa's clothes, looking like a villager from Purandhar. But there was no denying that he was different. Somehow, he looked very different. Supa took Indu and Ashwini to meet the strange man, and introduced the ladies and assured them that the strange man could converse easily in Marathi. Assured thus, Ashwini spoke to him, "I am from Shivri, and this is my village. Dada and Raghu told us about you. Do not feel that you have no one. You are welcome in my house and in my village. You do not have to tell us anything that you do not want us to know. You are now our first warkari for this year, and so, you are very special. HE will be watching us, and checking up on us, as to how we welcome our first warkari. Raghu will take care of you."
The strange man smiled, placed his hands together in a gesture of namaste, bowed slightly, and said, "Tai, I thank you. Raghu spotted me and brought me inside. Now, I only know that I know Marathi, and I remember Raghu's name. Today, I remember Supa and Anandi's name also. I remember the name of your village. At least, I am remembering something. That means that I am not in a bad condition. I am sure that from now onwards, everything will be better. I have had a very terrible time in the past 6-7 days. Let me help, for Raghu and his grandfather told me that your next two days are going to be very hectic."
Supa shouted out, for he had spotted the early warkaris coming ahead. Before they could reach Shivri, two police jeeps drove by, leading a convoy of 10-12 trucks with banners of the palkhi. The warkaris knew how to go about taking care of themselves. They greeted the local villagers and gratefully sat down, away from the roadside for some rest. Some came ahead to Supa, and as directed by him, went about having their bath in the open. A group of 8-10 warkaris alighted from a jeep, greeted Supa and Anandi, for they knew them from many years, and set up a small cookout and started preparing breakfast. Their group of walking pilgrims would be coming in a short while.
Everything was as usual, and this was the beginning of the entry of the palkhi into Shivri. But, today, would be a different day, thought Anandi, Supa, Raghu, Indu and Ashwini, separately, to themselves. Indu hugged her son, and told him, "See, look at the miracle. Your father prevented you from going on the palkhi with him, for he thought about his son, and that you are too young. See. The warkaris are coming to you. The palkhi will be coming to you. And, before them, Panduranga Vittala, himself, has come to you as this strange man. This is his language. You have to answer him, my son. You are truly blessed. It is not about if you can go on the palkhi, for Vittala himself is in the hearts of every warkari."
Glossary
aai = Mother
abhang = hymns composed by the great saints of Maharashtra.
Ashaadhi = the Hindu Calendar month during June-July
ashtavinayaka = the pilgrimage to eight sacred destinations in western Maharashtra, with eight of the most well-known temples to Lord Ganesha.
atya = Aunt, usually, father's sister.
bawa, bawaji = an affectionate word to call out to a Parsi, usually for men. Only if you are a close friend.
beti = Daughter
bhagawantha = God.
chapati = cooked wheat flat cakes, like a roti. An Indian-style tortilla.
dada = elder brother or grandfather
dhaba = roadside food place. With informal arrangements.
Dindis = the group-units of pilgrims participating in the wari.
Dnyanba = Sant Shri Dnyaneshwar of Alandi
keertan, keertankar = hymns sung as a song. The singer, usually a respected veteran, is known as a keertankar. Groups of devotees sing together with the keertankar and have established routines and sequences.
lungi = a sarong-type of dress, worn below the waist, comfortably with an easy tuck-in.
Maro Dikri = 'my daughter' - a favoured term in Parsi and Gujarati lingo.
Mauli = Devotee of Panduranga. Also a form of greeting in recognition of the other person's faith in Panduranga Vittala.
namaste = salutation, with folded hands, in front of the chest. In respect.
paadukas = the sacred symbolic feet-impressions of deities or sages
palkhi = the pilgrimage from Dehu-Sant Tukaram temple and Alandi-Sant Dnyaneshwar temple via Pune to Pandharpur in Solapur District, Maharashtra
policewallah = policeman
prasad = sacred offerings presented to the deities. Some part of it is usually returned to the devotee.
qaidi = prisoner
rath = chariot, usually pulled by oxen during the palkhi from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur
tai = Sister
Tuka, Tuka says, Tukaram = Sant Tukaram of Dehu. His renditions in praise of Panduranga Vittala are the abhangs that are remembered through hundreds of years. They are popularly known as "Tuka says..."
vaikhunta = passed away. Gone ahead to the great heavens above.
veena = stringed instrument used by warkaris to strum and recite
veenkari = the person who wears the veena around his neck and chants God's name.
wari = the annual June-July (ashaadhi) pilgrimage from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur.
warkaris = traditional pilgrims - devotees of Panduranga Vittala, the deity at Pandharpur - who walk from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur, covering nearly 200 kms
Yaa = Come. A form of invitation in affection.
Panduranga Vittala!!! - of a daughter who went away...
absolute devotion, she walks....
alone, in ten thousand women,
a river to an ocean, O Vittala!!!
Her daughter, Rimi, had calmed down now, and was asking about help in completing her homework right away because of something about with Raghav somebody, to the wari something tomorrow. Who was this Raghav? How did her daughter already have friends? Three months in Pune, and Suchitra only knew 2-3 neighbours who were also new to the city.
The phone was ringing and Suchitra answered it. Apparently, Raghav's mother, Mrs. Kulkarni was also a resident in the same apartment building. She was about to come and visit her. Rimi had been listening eagerly to the one-sided conversation but seemed to have guessed the discussion from the other end. She said, "Mummy! He is my friend, Raghav, in my class. She is bringing something for you to eat!" Suchitra was worried. Something to eat? Why? Why would someone bring something to eat at someone else's house? Again, she felt guilty in thinking in such a manner. What was wrong with her?
Mrs. Vandana Kulkarni was a very affectionate, happy and refreshing lady. Already, she was beginning to like her. She had brought about 10-15 puran polis with her, hot and freshly made. OK, she could handle this, thought Suchitra. She knew about puran polis, and went into the kitchen to heat a bowl of ghee. The kids were happy and were working on their homework books together. They seemed to be eager to get it done very fast.
Mrs. Kulkarni was reading the Times of India with a very serious expression. She looked up at Suchitra and said, "This paper is not like our Marathi newspaper. You will never be able to know about the palkhi. It is more than Dussehra or Diwali or Holi. Even bigger than the Ganeshotsav." Declaring thus, she spoke about the Dehu-Alandi palkhi and its annual journey to Pandharpur. She told Suchitra about the lakhs of pilgrims called warkaris, who made the sacred pilgrimage, considering it to be their bond with Panduranga Vittala. Finally, she declared that, since it was a holiday tomorrow for the children, they could go and visit the palkhi, and watch the warkaris walking by from Alandi to Pune city.
The next day, Suchitra and Rimi were standing in a huge crowd on the pavement, with Mrs. Kulkarni and Raghav. This road would be the main route for the Sant Dnyaneshwar palkhi from Alandi enroute to inner Pune city. Suchitra held Rimi's hand tightly, unused to Pune's crowds, though she was quite familiar with the Durga puja celebrations in Kolkatta. Those were what you would term as 'crowds', she thought to herself. The scene at this moment was just like people waiting to cross the road in any traffic junction of Kolkatta.
Someone came and attempted to place a sacred chandan mark on her forehead with a small rod, and Suchitra tried to refuse, but Mrs. Kulkarni asked her to allow it, for that would help other devotees recognise her as one of their own. She looked at Mrs. Kulkarni's forehead mark, ashtagandh, as she called it, and thought, well, it was okay. It looked nice. Rimi was standing quietly, and listening to Raghav explain something about a bullock-cart that would come with the pilgrims. He was telling her about its importance and that the rath, as the cart was known, would carry the sacred symbolic paadukas of Sant Dnyaneshwar and that there would be a surge of the entire crowd to rush to seek its blessings when it would pass by in front of them.
The palkhi was just about beginning to increase its numbers. There seemed to be city pilgrims walking in front eagerly, and they would be followed by the first of the banners and flags announcing the actual dindis who were in disciplined groups, ahead of the rath, the the sacred bullock-cart, with Sant Dnyaneshwar's paadukas resting in them. Each dindi, or organised group of warkaris, were walking proudly, happily, for this was the first day of the palkhi. The warkaris were signing, chanting and keeping pace among themselves and the sounds of the cymbals seemed to overpower all other sounds of the road.
Suchitra kept a close watch on the eager faces of Rimi and Raghav, while Mrs. Kulkarni was happily waving at the warkaris, who were waving back at her with chants of "Om Ram Krishna Hari! Om Ram Krishna Hari!" An oldsih looking warkari, with a veena, came up from behind Suchitra, to walk into the palkhi. Some local boys and ladies touched his feet in respect, and an eldrly lady placed some money in the warkari's hands. "It is the tradition," Mrs. Kulkarni explained, "These are 'mahinyache warkaris', and they move about through the month. One is blessed when one helps them. Come, let us also take his blessings."
Mrs. Kulkarni and Suchitra went up to the elderly warkari, touched his feet, and they gave him some money. He did not seem to notice the money, if at all, but kept strumming the veena, and kept reciting, "Om Ram Krishna Hari!" without any break. He was waiting, looking for a break in the group of dindis, to start walking alongside, without disturbing anyone. Suchitra turned back to catch hold of Rimi's hands, and noticed that Raghav was by himself and her daughter was not to be seen. She asked Raghav, in panic, "Rimi! Where is Rimi?" Raghav also looked around, and seemed to realise at that moment that Rimi was not with him.
Mrs. Kulkarni asked Raghav, and he looked scared. He said, "I do not know. She was standing here, next to me, just now. I was watching her, and I had just turned about to see the palkhi. When aunty called out, I saw that she was not there." Suchitra was running about in the crowd and asking everyone. The group of local boys and ladies who had been standing nearby were also moving about, searching. Mrs. Kulkarni stood at the same spot, with Raghav, holding him by his hand, and was calling out, "RIMI, RIMIIII!!!"
The elderly warkari, with the veena, turned around at the noise and came up to Mrs. Kulkarni to enquire about the matter. He was told about the missing daughter. He looked at Raghav and asked, "Do you remember, boy, if she wanted to go somewhere? To buy any biscuits? or go to fetch drinking water? or, did anyone ask her to go with them?" Raghav turned to his mother, who nodded assuringly, and asked him to reply. The boy answered, "No, she was just standing with me. She is new to Pune, and she would not go anywhere. Her father has given her strict instructions, she told me. Her mother has brought everything, biscuits, chocolates, water and some tiffin also."
Suchitra came back to the spot and asked Mrs. Kulkarni if she had any luck. The elderly warkari looked at her and asked if Rimi had asked her about going anywhere. Suchitra heard the kind voice and the question and broke down, crying and saying, "Oh! It is my fault. I did not keep holding her hand. I left her hand for only one small moment, and she was gone. What will I tell her father? Why did I bring her to see the palkhi? What if my daughter is lost to me? How will Panduranga Vittala and the palkhi and all the warkaris help?"
The elderly warkari heard the anguished plea from Suchitra, wanting to know about how Panduranga Vittala would help. He strummed his veena, recited silently, "Om Ram Krishna Hari!" and said to Mrs. Kulkarni, "O tai, it is said that Panduranga Vittala and his devotee are but like mother and child. How is it that one can be separated from one another? If she was here as a devotee, she would be with Vittala, where else? For a child, how will she know that is capable of not having any devotion?"
Mrs. Kulkarni nodded in agreement, and tried to console Suchitra. The local boys had gone out in search of Rimi, and the ladies had started asking the local policemen and home guards to help. The elderly warkari told Suchitra, "Beti, this is the palkhi, and today is the first day. Seek his blessings, for your daughter must be somewhere nearby. Do not worry. She is not lost. When you are with Vittala, your devotion to him is like a ball of fire. Do not tie it up, as Tuka says. Let it be open and seek its comfort."
Suchitra thanked the elderly warkari, and replied, "Brother, thank you. She is a good girl. She would not go anywhere without any permission. You are correct. She must be somewhere nearby. As you say, Brother, Om Ram Krishna Hari!!! I pray, Vittala, that my daughter is safe, and she should be returned to me safely." Saying thus, she turned to search for Rimi, asking people if she had been seen anywhere. The local shopkeepers, residents and hawkers were all being asked similarly by the boys and ladies who had seen Rimi earlier.
Suddenly, there was a shout. It was none other than Raghav. He was pointing towards the edge of the palkhi as it was walking by, and Suchitra could see, through the crowd, that Rimi was trying to get back to her from the road. She ran to her, pushing herself through the crowd, and caught hold of Rimi and brought her back to where Mrs. Kulkarni, Raghav and the elderly warkari stood. The local boys and ladies also came together, exclaiming happily that the threat had passed without any trauma. Rimi looked quite happy, peaceful and very calm.
Rimi said, excitedly, "Oh, Mummy! I went to see the rath, to see the paadukas, as Raghav told me. It was so beautiful. When he described it to me, I wanted to go and see it immediately. The rath was nearby, and I ran out to touch the paadukas, and someone, with a tall silvery-white staff hanging behind him, picked me up, and allowed me to sit with the priests on the rath. They allowed me to touch the paadukas and placed a garland around my neck and gave me prasad for you all. Here I am, back from the rath!"
Indeed, so it was, for there was a garland around her neck, and she was carrying some blessed offerings with her. The elderly warkari, Mrs. Kulkarni and the ladies nearby looked around puzzled, and looked at the passing palkhi, and again looked at Rimi, in a very strange manner. Suchitra was disturbed, and asked, "Why do you all look at my daughter in that manner? She must have just gone to the rath and got the blessings and returned. That's why we could not see her at all. She was on the rath."
It was the elderly warkari who answered, "Yes, my sister, your daughter that went away, to seek blessings in the rath and returned... she did so, but the point is that the sacred Sant Dnyaneshwar's rath, carrying his sacred paadukas, is still at a distance of 2-3 kilometres away. This is just the crowd that walks hurriedly before the palkhi, and the irregular dindis. The actual palkhi of Dnyanba is yet to come. But, your daughter is indeed carrying the garland from the paadukas. I would recognise them anywhere. Even the packet containing the sacred offerings. This is from the rath."
Saying thus, the elderly warkari exclaimed, "O Panduranga Vittala, you know that this small girl does not know anything about the palkhi, about prayers or about walking to Pandharpur. And yet, you cheat us all, so many lakhs of us, who seek you at Pandharpur, by picking her away and granting her wish? We are at fault, O Vittala, for we seek you somewhere else. Your name alone is enough, but, she does not even know your name and she does not even chant it. And, yet, you string us all together like pearls on a necklace!!!"
Glossary
Ashaadhi = the Hindu Calendar month during June-July
ashtavinayaka = the pilgrimage to eight sacred destinations in western Maharashtra, with eight of the most well-known temples to Lord Ganesha.
atya = Aunt, usually, father's sister.
beti = Daughter
bhagawantha = God.
chapati = cooked wheat flat cakes, like a roti. An Indian-style tortilla.
dada = elder brother
dhaba = roadside food place. With informal arrangements.
Dindis = the group-units of pilgrims participating in the wari.
Dnyanba = Sant Shri Dnyaneshwar of Alandi
Mauli = Devotee of Panduranga. Also a form of greeting in recognition of the other person's faith in Panduranga Vittala.
paadukas = the sacred symbolic feet-impressions of deities or sages
palkhi = the pilgrimage from Dehu-Sant Tukaram temple and Alandi-Sant Dnyaneshwar temple via Pune to Pandharpur in Solapur District, Maharashtra
prasad = sacred offerings presented to the deities. Some part of it is usually returned to the devotee.
rath = chariot, usually pulled by oxen during the palkhi from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur
tai = Sister
Tuka, Tuka says, Tukaram = Sant Tukaram of Dehu. His renditions in praise of Panduranga Vittala are the abhangs that are remembered through hundreds of years. They are popularly known as "Tuka says..."
vaikhunta = passed away. Gone ahead to the great heavens above.
veena = stringed instrument used by warkaris to strum and recite
wari = the annual June-July (ashaadhi) pilgrimage from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur.
warkaris = traditional pilgrims - devotees of Panduranga Vittala, the deity at Pandharpur - who walk from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur, covering nearly 200 kms
Yaa = Come. A form of invitation in affection.
Panduranga Vittala!!! - the lone warkari on his route...
pray, grant me a sleepless ashaadh night,
keertans, pouring rain, cymbals, chanting,
all night, sit with me, beside me, O Vittala!!!
It was a very simple shop, almost a shanty. The sheds were up, and the grocery sacks lined up. The oil cans were kept in a separate shed, some distance away, that they would use as a storage unit. Nothing was locked up, for as his father had instructed Ganesh, this was all about faith and in belief in others. If you did not trust others, you had no right to be part of the palkhi, even if you were not a warkari.
It was as yet two days to the palkhi, as it would cross the Dive Ghat on its onward journey to Saswad and the Purandar areas. It was a steep climb with pouring rain, slippery roads and narrow curves. Nearly five to six hundred thousand warkaris and pilgrims would be walking up. Today, it was all quiet. There was nobody on the roads. The regular traffic that went up and down the Dive Ghat had thinned down, knowing that the police would be regulating the road and keeping a sharp watch. Ganesh was busy planning the cooking action for the next 4-5 days. The action would start a day before, with the support vehicles for hte various groups racing ahead to the stopping points and setting up tents and kitchens.
Ganesh sat alone, in his casual clothes, cleaning, polishing and setting up. His friends were doing the same in their food stalls. Today would be without any business, but the coming five days would go by at breakneck speed. Soon, it was evening. There was almost no traffic on Dive Ghat now. Ganesh had completed all his preparations and was sitting by himself, alone in his food-stall.
It was peaceful out here. Silence, if you could forget the sound of vehicles. Even the dogs were quiet. They had gathered in anticipation of the availability of food over the coming days. 2-3 dogs had taken their positions near each food stall. They seemed to claiming their territories. Ganesh watched the dogs near his stall. They looked clean and spirited. They would be the only regular companions that he would have with him for the days that he would be cooking here.
A SUV car came down the Dive Ghat and went inside the compound gate of the dhaba across the road. The owner and two persons got out and entered the dhaba. A lone warkari alighted from the car and walked away from the dhaba after thanking the driver. He must have got a lift from near Saswad and had been brought here to help him on with his journey to join the palkhi at Pune, thought Ganesh. He watched him curiously. If the lone warkari had to go and join the palkhi, he would have to rush tonight and meet up with his dindi group wherever they would be.
The lone warkari stood quietly, outside the dhaba, pondering on his options. Understanding his discomfort and worry, Ganesh stood up and waved him across, beckoning him to cross over the road. The lone warkari saw him, and crossed the road and came to the food stall. "Sri Ram Krishna Hari!!! Thank you, O Mauli, can I rest here for some time?" He asked Ganesh.
Nodding, Ganesh replied, "Yaa, O Mauli!!! Why do you ask? For these food stalls are here only on the instructions of bhagawantha!!!" The lone warkari stepped inside the food stall and sat on a wooden bench near the entrance. The three dogs came nearby and settled at the doorstep, expecting some food to be shared. It was drizzling steadily outside, and the dogs were all wet. Ganesh picked up an used gunny sack and placed it within the entrance of the stall and tapped on the cloth. With seeming clarity, the three dogs stood up and walked inside and settled down comfortably on the gunny sack.
The lone warkari commented, "Yes. For, these are also the work of the same bhagawantha!" Ganesh had some left over food from the noon lunch, and he heated it up and asked the lone warkari to share in the supper. They ate together silently, without any disturbance from the dogs. Later, Ganesh tore up some chapatis and mixed it with the left over food and placed three food balls on torn up newspapers and kept them for the dogs. They ate quietly, but eagerly. Meanwhile, Ganesh made two cups of tea, and offered one to the lone warkari. The pilgrim welcomed it, for it was an appropriate need with the steadily increasing drizzle outside.
Ganesh said, "O Mauli, it is raining steadily now, and will become heavier. Its also nearing night time, and it would be difficult to get a vehicle coming down the Dive Ghat to stop in this increasing darkness. You can stay here tonight, and I will also have company. You could leave in the early dawn tomorrow, and join up with your dindi group at Pune before they start walking to Hadapsar." The lone warkari nodded, and replied in agreement, "Sri Ram Krishna Hari, as you wish." Having arrived at a conclusion, Ganesh placed two wooden benches together and rolled out a thin mattress over it, and placed a coarse woollen blanket for the use of the lone warkari. He had the same arrangement for himself.
Having settled that matter, the lone warkari began to talk, "O Mauli, I do not belong to any dindi group. The warkaris from my village, away near Paithan, are strangers to me now. I do not join the palkhi from Paithan to Pandharpur. There were many problems. I come all the way from Paithan, walking or taking a lift from anyone who would welcome me, to try and be on time at Pune."
Puzzled, Ganesh asked, "You do not join the palkhi from your village? Why is that? How can the group from your village allow that? Surely, the palkhi is only an excuse for us to forget our differences? What happened?"
The lone warkari replied, "Yes... I understand the puzzle. They did not refuse me. It is my error. I do not join them in their palkhi. I used to be the sarpanch of my village, and I was never a devout person. I used to tolerate the keertan mandalis and the bhajan mandalis because the other villagers were taking part in them. I had never ever donated any money to the community dinners organised at the temple. One day, in a panchayat meeting, others in the village wanted me to agree to construct an underground pipeline from the water tank to a restaurant on the main road. I disagreed."
"The restaurant owner, from my village, was a rich man. He could afford to construct a good well. But, he did not want to use his money. He had friends from within his community in the village and they were keen to help him. They threatened me, and I refused once again. Ours is a drought prone region, and water is very precious. He could have done any other business but he wanted to run a restaurant because it was on the main road to Aurangabad. I could not give him the water that would have been necessary for the poor families in my village."
"One night, when it was raining heavily like tonight, he sent some thugs to threaten me at my house. I spoke strongly and we had a fight. The thugs killed my mother. She was my only family. I had nobody else. I ran away from the house, and they followed. In the dark night, I could escape, and I ran into the Vittala temple. I was angry, and I wanted to go to the house of the restaurant owner, and kill him and his family. I had decided that I would then run away to Mumbai and live anonymously among strangers."
"That night, at the temple, I hardly noticed Vittala, and did not even realise that I was in the premises. I was only angry, and I was wanting revenge. I started searching for some weapon that I could use to kill the family of the restaurant owner. At that moment, I heard some voices, and I walked in that direction. It came from inside the sanctum, and it sounded familiar. I looked inside. There were some wick lamps, and I could then realise that I was inside the temple, and it was Vittala's sanctum. A lady was seated there, and she was talking to Panduranga."
"I wondered, about, who could be talking to him in this dark stormy night? Alone? So, I went nearer, and I heard her say - "O Vitoraya, you have to help me. You did the wrong deed today. You called me to you, and I have come here. Now, he is all alone. He has no control over himself. He loves you extremely, though he never admits it. His love for you is deep within him. Please untie the bonds, my Panduranga. Do not allow him to go angry and do not allow him to cause harm for anyone. I have forgiven those who have caused harm to me, for they have only brought me to you, to your house." - and I got curious, for the voice was very familiar. I went closer, and then, I realised..."
"O Mauli!!! For, those among us, you would belive, it was none other than my mother, and she was talking to Vittala. She was asking him to control me, and asking him to prevent me in my revenge. She had forgiven her killers. And in her state, she was out there, beseeching Vittala, to help me. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I turned and saw HIM, and HE said, to me - "Go... go to where there would be many more such mothers, in search of me. Tell them about your mother. Let them know that I listen." - and having said that, he was gone. I turned, and my mother was no longer there, and the wick lamps were glowing brightly, and I could see HIM, back on his place."
"Since then, O Mauli, I rush to the palkhi at Pune, and I walk all the rest of the year, going from place to place, and sing at the keertan mandalis and tell them my story. Most mothers talk to me later, and I tell them to tell their children to forget all hate and to forget all intentions of revenge. This is my life, over the past twenty-five years, O Mauli, and this is going to be my life."
"My villagers knew of me from the stories that went from other villages where I sang. They heard that my mother had been killed in my house by the thugs from the restaurant owner. They wanted to demolish the restaurant and chase away the owner and his family. I came to know of it through messages that they sent me. I went back to the village and began to stay in Vittala's temple. I spoke to my villagers and asked them not to take revenge for me."
"My villagers were unhappy. They said, that Vittala had asked me to avoid revenge. They had not been instructed accordingly. They would be most happy to even kill the restaurant owner. They would agree with me, only if Vittala would speak to them personally. I agreed with them. I invited them to sit at the temple through the night, and I doused the wick lamps. There was complete darkness. I sang throughout the night. I did not stop singing. I am not a singer, but that night, I sang in perfect rhythm, without any musical instrument. I sang alone. In the morning, each one of my villagers, came to me, and said - we have seen Vittala tonight."
Ganesh heard him in silence, without any surprise, for this was Panduranga's magic, and nothing could be unexpected.
Glossary
Ashaadhi = the Hindu Calendar month during June-July
atya = Aunt, usually, father's sister.
bhagawantha = God.
chapati = cooked wheat flat cakes, like a roti. An Indian-style tortilla.
dada = elder brother
dhaba = roadside food place. With informal arrangements.
Dindis = the group-units of pilgrims participating in the wari.
Dnyanba = Sant Shri Dnyaneshwar of Alandi
Mauli = Devotee of Panduranga. Also a form of greeting in recognition of the other person's faith in Panduranga Vittala.
paadukas = the sacred symbolic feet-impressions of deities or sages
palkhi = the pilgrimage from Dehu-Sant Tukaram temple and Alandi-Sant Dnyaneshwar temple via Pune to Pandharpur in Solapur District, Maharashtra
rath = chariot, usually pulled by oxen during the palkhi from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur
vaikhunta = passed away. Gone ahead to the great heavens above.
wari = the annual June-July (ashaadhi) pilgrimage from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur.
warkaris = traditional pilgrims - devotees of Panduranga Vittala, the deity at Pandharpur - who walk from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur, covering nearly 200 kms
Yaa = Come. A form of invitation in affection.
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