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!!! - 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!!!

The sweat and the smell of the deep fried foodstuffs was all over the small roadside shop. Ganesh was busy, extremely busy, in the preparation of snacks and sweets. The palkhi would soon be here, on the climb at Dive Ghat, towards Saswad, just after Hadapsar. He came here, year after year, 5-6 days before the palkhi, at his usual location on the roadside. His father, and his grandfather before him, had run the shop from the very same location during the palkhi. They were about seven persons from the same village, Sakhuri, who came down from the Purandar hills to cook and sell foodstuff to the hundreds of thousands of warkaris who walked on the palkhi from Dehu-Alandi-Pune to Pandharpur.

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.