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.
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