Vari.

The Vari to Pandharpur: When Devotion Walks on Earth

Every year, as the sun softens over the Deccan plateau and the roads of Maharashtra turn dusty with footsteps, a miracle unfolds—not in silence, but in song. The Vari, the sacred pilgrimage to Pandharpur, begins. It is not merely a journey across land; it is a movement of the soul toward Vittala, the dark-hued Lord who waits with hands on hips, patient and eternal.

To watch the Vari is itself a blessing. To be part of it is a transformation.

The Walk of the Warkaris

The pilgrims, known as Warkaris, come from villages, towns, and cities—farmers, teachers, weavers, saints, children, elders. They walk together, barefoot or sandaled, carrying little more than faith. There is no hierarchy here. Rich and poor, learned and simple, all merge into one flowing river of devotion.

On their shoulders they carry the Palkhi—the palanquin bearing the padukas (sacred sandals) of saints like Sant Dnyaneshwar and Sant Tukaram. These saints do not remain in history books; they walk again, year after year, on living feet and beating hearts.

Abhangas: The Sound of Love

The air vibrates with abhangas—simple, profound verses composed in Marathi, addressed to Vittala as friend, child, beloved, master. The mridanga, tal, and the steady rhythm of footsteps keep time, but it is the heart that truly sings.

“Mauli, Mauli!” rises again and again—not just a call, but a surrender.

These songs do not demand musical perfection. They demand sincerity. Even a cracked voice, when soaked in devotion, becomes divine music. As the Warkaris sing, fatigue dissolves. Blisters become badges of grace. Hunger turns into offering.

Vittala: The Waiting God

Unlike gods who sit on thrones or ride celestial vehicles, Vittala waits—arms akimbo, grounded, accessible. He does not go to his devotees; he allows them the joy of coming to Him.

Pandharpur itself changes during Vari. The Chandrabhaga river seems to flow slower, as if listening. The streets pulse with devotion. Even the stones appear worn smooth—not by time, but by faith.

When the Warkaris finally behold Vittala, tears replace words. For some, it is their first Vari; for others, their fiftieth. Yet the moment is always new. The Lord is the same, but the devotee is never the same again.

A Living Philosophy

The Vari is Bhakti philosophy in motion. It teaches:

Equality — all walk together

Simplicity — no ritual excess, only remembrance

Perseverance — devotion that endures heat, rain, and hardship

Joy — not solemn piety, but singing, dancing faith

In an age of speed, the Vari chooses slowness. In a world of noise, it chooses sacred sound. In a time of division, it chooses collective walking.

To Watch Is Grace, To Walk Is Transformation

Standing by the roadside, watching the Vari pass, one feels humbled. The dust rises, the songs drift away, but something remains—a quiet stirring within.

Yet those who walk know a deeper truth: Vittala is not only at Pandharpur. He walks beside them, step for step, hidden in every chant, every blister, every shared sip of water.

The Vari reminds us that devotion is not something we do occasionally. It is something we become, slowly, steadily, joyfully—until one day, unknowingly, we too are walking toward God.

And perhaps, He has been waiting all along.

The Vari to Pandharpur: Where Saints Walk Again and Vittala Waits

Every year, Maharashtra witnesses a phenomenon that cannot be measured in miles or days. It is measured in abhangas, in dust-covered feet, in tears that rise unbidden at the sound of Mauli. The Vari—the pilgrimage to Pandharpur—is devotion set in motion, faith that chooses to walk rather than wait.

To stand and watch the Vari pass is to feel small before its magnitude. To walk in it is to feel dissolved into something timeless.

Abhanga: The Breath of the Vari

The Vari does not move in silence. It moves in song—songs that carry philosophy lightly, like a mother carrying a child.

One of the most sung abhangas of Sant Tukaram goes:

“Sundar te dhyān, ubhe Vitthale”

Beautiful is that vision—Vittala standing there.

In one simple line, Tukaram captures the essence of the pilgrimage. Vittala does not sit enthroned in distance. He stands, waiting, approachable, almost familiar. The Warkaris do not ask for liberation or miracles; they ask only for darshan—to see, and be seen.

Another beloved refrain echoes endlessly along the road:

“Mauli Mauli, Vitthal Mauli”

Mother Vittala, compassionate Vittala.

Calling God Mauli—mother—is a uniquely Maharashtrian tenderness. Here, devotion is not fear or obligation, but intimacy.

Sant Dnyaneshwar: The Child Saint Who Still Leads

The Vari begins with the Palkhi of Sant Dnyaneshwar, the prodigy saint who composed the Dnyaneshwari at the age of sixteen. Though he took samadhi young, his presence dominates the pilgrimage.

It is said that Dnyaneshwar believed knowledge must walk to the people, not remain confined to scholars. The Vari embodies this belief. Scripture becomes song. Philosophy becomes footsteps.

When the Palkhi moves, the Warkaris chant “Dnyanoba Mauli Tukaram”, affirming that wisdom and devotion are inseparable. Knowledge without humility is dry; devotion without understanding is blind. The Vari harmonizes both.

Sant Tukaram: The Abhanga That Carried God Home

Sant Tukaram’s life was marked by loss—poverty, ridicule, and the death of loved ones. Yet his abhangas overflow with joy. Why?

Because Tukaram found Vittala not at the end of suffering, but within it.

One story tells how Tukaram once cried out in despair, questioning why God tested him so. The response came not in words, but in presence—Vittala standing quietly beside him. From that moment, Tukaram’s abhangas became conversations, not compositions.

His oft-quoted line captures the Vari spirit perfectly:

“Āmhi jāto āpule grāmi”

We return to our true home.

Pandharpur is not just a destination. It is a reminder of where the heart truly belongs.

Sant Namdev: The Lord Who Turned to Listen

Sant Namdev’s devotion was so intense that legend says Vittala turned around to listen when Namdev sang—breaking His eternal pose with hands on hips. Whether literal or symbolic, the message is clear: God responds to sincere love.

Namdev’s abhangas emphasize that caste, learning, and ritual purity mean nothing if the heart is not pure. This spirit lives on in the Vari, where everyone walks together, eats together, sings together.

Ashadhi Ekadashi: When Time Pauses

The culmination of the Vari is Ashadhi Ekadashi. Pandharpur overflows—not just with people, but with emotion. The Chandrabhaga river reflects countless lamps and weary yet radiant faces.

When the Warkaris finally stand before Vittala, many do not ask for blessings. They simply gaze. Some weep. Some smile. Some fall silent.

For after weeks of singing His name, what remains to be said?

A Living Teaching for Our Times

The Vari teaches without preaching:

Walk patiently; God is not in a hurry

Sing together; devotion grows in community

Carry little; faith lightens the load

Walk again next year; devotion is lifelong

In a restless world, the Vari reminds us that the slow path can be the sacred one.

A Short Poem: Walking with Vittala

Dust on my feet,

Abhanga on my lips,

Sky as my roof,

Faith as my staff.

He stands waiting,

Hands on hips,

Smiling as if to say—

“Why rush, my child?

I have always been here.”