4/17/2010

The Wari..2 years back!


As I lay in bed today, with my entire body is aching and legs crying out in pain, I recall how the day started in excitement. A sleepless night, the day before, anticipating the next day, mind full of colorful clips formulating a unique collage of images that I had seen on television before and few witnessed, some read off and a lot heard about. There I was waiting for what the next day would be like and strangely struggling to get sleep, so that my sleepless night would not be a hindrance and give me a physical fatigue. The alarm struck and before could I sleep, had to jump out of the bed and get ready!
There it is. Bags packed with tit-bits of food, water, rain coat and not to forget the camera. With by shoes on and sack on my back, left the house, others in family yet asleep, it was around 4 am. On Swapna’s bike then left for Tejas’s Kaku’s place. Stopped by on the way, had to refill the bike fuel. The fuel man saw the camera bags. He took us for television reporters and started asking all sorts of questions. Swapna promptly answered; we are from “star Maza.” I thought for a moment, he will tell his friends in the morning that he met reporters on their way to Alandi.
2 cars then left for Alandi, 8 people in all, being stopped by police, road blocks,then tricking police and making way to get near Alandi through the narrow dusty village street . As dozens of warkaries seen quietly walk down the road and the trucks flooded with the warkaries crossed our way, I could guess we were near. As the truck traffic increased, we thought it would be wiser to get off there. The cars dropped us there and turned around wishing us good luck.
Fresh morning breeze and the colorfully dressed people crowded my site. All getting ready for the day and many already on the walk, singing abhangas and carrying different Vinas. I felt a strange freshness. We made our way to the temple, could not enter due to the crowd, took darshan from the door steps, taking wishes for the walk and then we began.
Before we left Alandi, we had a hot steaming breakfast of the pohas and I bought a mala, as I could not resist the temptation of the street hawkers lined up, all selling those, of different colors and patterns. Now I had my own. The Ghats of the river were concealed by people far and wide, everywhere my eyes could reach. Suddenly the place was enormous, hording so many people within it! Alandi was spectacularly colorful, clothes being the main pallet. The rest was its colorful canvas of the village itself. It was dressed up for the occasion; all new stalls, eateries, hawkers, shelters and tons of hoardings and different songs praising the lord and describing the wari were ringing everywhere.
At one point you stop admiring the spirit but start living it and become an integral part of it. It becomes difficult to be disconnected and then look at it. You are just there.
As we walked pass the village and the road lined by small and big houses, the locals lined up all the way for the Darshan of the Palkhi and to wish all the warkaris good luck for the pandharpur yatra. Many distribute fruits, biscuits and Prasad. You can feel that the entire city is taking part in this event, all of them irrespective of their cast or class. The village governor had organized a band for the occasion and it played filmy songs! The temporary stages long the road sides distributed food and the loud speakers announced the several names of politicians sponsoring the event. They all made themselves look like great donors of the century, wearing clean white kurta- pajamas in the contrast to the colorful crowd.
Well, the crowd was cared less who distributes what, save for, they wanted it all. Many ran for it and others just stick to their way and sang and walked along.
It’s probably said over and over again, so many people, lakhs in numbers, all of them gather and the only thing that drives them is the fate in their God and you still cannot stop yourself being amused by that. The fleet of the feet, tell you a lot about where these people come from. Hard core farmers, or some other husbandry work, all doing labor work, the tanned skin for years and them most dirty feet that make you feel as if they are made of iron or something that can take any rock or thorn in its way.
Eating tambaku and then spitting it right on the same road as they walk, make you wonder, generations might have passed, all still the same, probably they live in total different world where completely different things are important to them or may be things that people in city care for, they just care less. All of the people from a small little houses, wait for the Wari every year. Pandhurangachya dharshanala, Or may be just a picnic, whatever it may be, but definitely it is important to them and a part of their life.
All along the walk, there were stalls that provided tea, biscuits, bhajis, plastic mats to rest on and other basic items. I was just wondering where these small shopkeepers come from. Well, these also come from the same villages and mostly from Pandharpur itself. They keepon shifting the stalls from time to time as the Wai proceeds.
The Darshan of the Palkhi, was something most unique to experience. At the Alandi phata, we had climbed a hill and waited to see the palkhi pass. We were not the only once to do that. The scene could be described as a road surrounded by small hills, where the road and the hills were just enveloped by people everywhere I could see. We met Abhijeet and his friends there, photographers capturing the essence of the day. I was so jealous, not knowing how a camera can be used well, to freeze the moments. Yet I still tried my bit!
After a long waiting, what we saw was just amazing… As the palkhi moved ahead, people who had climbed up the hill, just ran down on the road to get the glimpse of their God, a extreme powerful magnet in the center that just pulled everybody near it ! Certain man near the palkhi had a chabuk that he wiped to keep the crowd at a distance, yet people tried again and the palkhi moved… and then so did we.
We walked all the way noticing different people within all the same ones, singing differently, eating, chatting, chanting, walking, running and pushing. Who knows in what hurry they were or just trying to have fun? At some point I stopped thinking, my problems had vanished, my ambitions did not mean anything, and all I knew was that I was walking. May be that’s the reason why all come here because they forget themselves. It is some kind of a high, high in the spirit.