Pandharichi Wari : Part 3

June 28, 2023

Pandharichi Wari : Part 3

Alandi

June 12th

I was up by 4 am. One could hear the morning bhajans from the warkaris in the neighborhood. Not sure these ever stopped through the night. I tried to get ready( brush teeth, shower etc) as quietly as possible so as to not wake up the hosts. Pallavi was up by 5 am and made me tea and served it with some glucose biscuits. The palkhi was to leave from its overnight location at Gandhi wada at 6:00 am. It would pass by Prasad’s neighborhood around 6:30-6:45 am. I set out of home at 6 am. Scattered groups of warkaris were already on the road. I kept following them. The morning sun was rising behind and to my left. At frequent intervals local organizers were distributing tea, breakfast, fruits, water etc to the warkaris. There were vendors by the roadside selling carry bags, caps, stoles, plastic spreads called irlas flowers, water, snacks and many more things. There were some making a quick buck by applying sacred tilak( gandha ) on the forehead. Nomadic families set up tight ropes 6-8 feet above the street held by bamboo stands at two ends and their young kids walked on these ropes balancing sticks in the hands or pots above their heads. Warkaris would drop in coins into their collection boxes as they walked by.

An impressive temple was seen to the right side of the road about 4 km since I left home. It was named Thorlyaa Paduka Mandir. When the palkhi would arrive here there would be an aarti. I decided to keep walking so I don’t lose my tempo.

About an hour or more into my walk I saw a group giving away bananas. I decided to get some. The two biscuits I had earlier were long gone. Bananas seemed safe thing to eat on the go. Oh boy! The mad rush that ensued there nearly crushed me. Each time the man tried to hand me a couple of bananas someone else grabbed and pulled them out of my hands. I wasn’t even able to pull myself out of that crowd without bananas as more people continued to push behind me in desperation, throwing out their hands for the food. Finally the man donating the bananas had to intervene and plead to the rowdy crowd to let me take bananas and allow me to get out of there.

An hour later it was much less hassle to get a bowl of sabudana khichadi from another kind donor.

I had walked a good 4 hours when I found myself in a cantonment area. Military property was temporarily opened up at several places to allow warkaris to rest. Men in army uniform were serving food and water to the pilgrims. I had never witnessed such a thing before. Valour saluting devotion. Pride of the Nation bowing to servants of God. This is one of those images that will remain with me forever.

My feet were tired by then and I could feel burning over the left heel. The sun was also beginning to get unbearable. I saw a bus stop with a seat or two available so decided to rest there for a few minutes. Earlier in the day we were sent a message on WhatsApp informing that our dindi members would be served lunch at a devotee’s home on the way. The address was in Phule Nagar. I wasn’t sure if I had already walked past it or it was ahead on the way. A few people I asked on the way didn’t know anything about it. As I took the break I pulled out the phone and called the number listed for the lunch location. A man answered on the other end. He was very kind and welcoming. He asked how many people were with me and my present location and told me I had another 3-4 kms to walk. I had already walked about 15 km by then. It was 10:30 am. I decided to rest for a few more minutes before starting again.

As I sat under that bus stop I heard a loud sound overhead. An Indian fighter jet 🛩️ the Sukhoi took off above me. A few minutes later another one went the same way and a few more after that. The memory of my recent visit to the Edwards Air Force Base in California was fresh in my mind. Seeing the Indian counterparts brought a renewed sense of pride though ironically I wished none of the jets would ever be needed to be put into use. Strange are the ways of the world. Might is necessary to keep evil at bay but the world is not necessarily safer when might is brought into use. Anyways.

I carried on further asking a few policemen on the way about the RTO office landmark which the man had shared with me. Opposite this office would be a Datta Mandir he has told me. Sure enough about an hour later I spotted the Datta Mandir and in another 5 minutes arrived at the building where the lunch was being hosted. On the second floor of the building all four apartments had opened their doors to welcome and serve lunch for our dindi members.

In one of these rooms there were a few people who had arrived before me. One of them Chitra Biwalkar was seated on the floor. She had come from Thane. Also seated on the floor next to her was a gentleman in white kurta and lenga( loose cotton traditional trousers). He was Prakash Paranjape from London. His wife Shubhada Paranjape was on the sofa facing him. I learned from them that this couple was on a year long sabbatical starting last October and this was their first wari, just like mine. Chitra Biwalkar was married to the brother of Shubhada Paranjape. This was Chitra’s third wari. All three of them were connected one way or another to IT field.

While Chitra had draped her synthetic 6 yards saree over a salwar, Shubhada had a printed cotton 9 yards saree draped perfectly with kashta, ocha, kela and everything the traditional Brahmani way. She seemed so comfortable in it, I was impressed. I had walked all morning holding the pleats of my saree in one hand so they didn’t sweep the mess on the road. Needless to say, Shubhada’s hands free mode in that style inspired me to consider nauwari for rest of the wari.

I checked on my heel and found there was a small blister from rubbing against the sandal. Shubhada had a band aid with her and kindly offered it to me. As we warmed up to each other more women arrived and soon the room was full. The hosts offered water to each arriving guest. Sitting in a home under a ceiling fan, sipping water and having access to a clean toilet was precious as never before. Soon we were beckoned to another room for lunch. The women from these neighboring households had cooked the entire lunch and were serving us warkaris with utmost love.

I had felt an instant connection with Chitra and Shubhada and decided to continue the post lunch walk to Pune in their company. Earlier in the morning I was solo in the big ocean of warkaris. It was a different experience, observing different people, different behaviors and trends, musing to myself over various things. I was able to decide my own pace freely. Stop when I feel like, walk when I felt ready. Walking with a group gave a sense of security but it was awkward to request stops when I couldn’t keep up the pace with rest of them. But these folks were kind and supportive.

We took one break under a tree along the road somewhere around Sangamnagar. Shubhada opened her plastic irla ( sheet) and four of us sat on it. It was a relief to temporarily put away the backpack and rest the feet. The bandaid had refused to stay in place. Under that tree sitting next to us was a group of 4-5 rural women who had come for the wari from Barshi. We prodded them to sing some warkari songs and they did. After them Shubhada obliged with a soothing abhang Pandhariche Bhoot mothe. Few minutes of relaxation, rejuvenation, recreation and rehydration and we were again on our feet.

The last 7-8 miles from that point were challenging. There was no tree for shade and no place to sit until we made it to Shivaji Nagar. As rest of the warkaris proceeded leftwards on the next bridge we decided to break away and got down under the bridge near Sancheti Hospital. We desperately walked looking for a rickshaw to take us home. There were abandoned rickshaws parked on the footpath. Thought I would try calling Uber. My app wouldn’t work. Last hope ……Manisha. She promptly answered the call and said she was on her way to pick us. We gave her our location. Alas. The road was barricaded by police here and no cars or rickshaws were allowed. A kind rickshaw wallah suggested us to cross over the railway bridge to the other side to Jungli Maharaj Road where we were likely to find a ride home. Prakash Paranjape bought us platform tickets and we pulled ourselves with all leftover energy over the bridge on Shivaji Nagar station to the other side. With much hurdles on the way from road blocks and detours Manisha made her way to pick us there. She dropped the other three near the entrance to Apte Road where they were living and then dropped me to my place.

The palkhi was scheduled to reach Bhavani Peth in Pune later that evening and stay put for two successive nights. Each of us would stay in our accommodations in the city for that duration.

I showered that evening, threw my clothes into laundry , then grabbed food that Manisha had got for me and got ready for bed. Over 25 kms of walking were logged in for the day. The left foot had already started grumbling and calling for attention. The blister was bigger. All care would be postponed to tomorrow.