I had always heard of the Wari.
Of the lakhs of devoted warkaris walking for weeks, sometimes months to Pandharpur with hearts full of faith and feet tireless in love for Vitthal and Rakhumai.
I had seen them passing through Pune as a student in the university and later, as Commissioner for Women and Child Development when I was posted there.
But to be a part of it? I had never imagined that.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, the idea of Wari had always seemed too vast, too spiritual, and honestly, too physically demanding for someone like me.
There were mental hesitations. And now, with the years gone by, I felt I wasn’t even physically fit enough.
Yet, Ashadhi Ekadashi 2025 turned out to be transformative.
As Resident Commissioner at Delhi, I was invited to participate in the Delhi Sanketik Wari, a symbolic wari organised with devotion and meticulous effort by the Dilli Maharashtra Pratishthan, under the leadership of Shri.Vaibhav Dange and his team. This tradition has been kept alive in Delhi for five years now, uniting the over three lakh strong Maharashtrian diaspora of the capital in collective celebration.
A Google form was shared for registration. I remember hovering over it, unsure, hesitant. But something urged me to fill it. As the day approached, I still hadn’t made up my mind. Was this really for me?
Still, something stirred deep within. I visited the Maha Handloom counter at New Maharashtra Sadan and ordered a traditional outfit just in case.
Even the night before the Wari, I wasn't sure. But on the morning of the event, as if drawn by some unseen force, I found myself at the starting point at 5:45 a.m. sharp.
Dressed in my new traditional avatar, I stood there not knowing a soul. No one from our office team had arrived yet. I felt a bit awkward, a stranger to this world I had admired from a distance.
But faith has a way of embracing you gently. I took darshan of Prachin Hanuman at the temple in Connaught Place which was the starting point of the Wari.
Having received the blessings of Lord Hanuman, I walked towards the group and introduced myself to Shri.Dange the main organiser. He and the team greeted me with warmth and joy. Encouraged, I joined the growing dindi. I had told my driver to follow behind. I would walk just symbolically for a few minutes and then return.
But the few minutes turned into an hour, then two. The chants of "Vitthal Vitthal Jai Hari Vitthal" rang in my ears, the rhythm of the dhol-tasha stirred something deep inside, and the sight of the idol of Vitthal in the tempo not only brought inexplicable peace but gave me energy to walk.
Soon, one of our officials from Maharashtra Sadan joined me on the route. Her presence also boosted my morale and encouraged me to keep walking. Before long, many officers from the Government of India had joined the Wari as well. Seeing familiar faces in unfamiliar settings made me feel at home, and added to the joy of the experience.
I kept walking. Kilometres melted beneath my feet.
By the time we reached the Vitthal Rukmini Temple at R.K. Puram, I had become a part of something so deeply spiritual, so emotionally uplifting, that every thought of physical discomfort had vanished.
There was a sea of devotees waiting to welcome the dindi. The air was festive yet reverent. We played phugdi, watched the ringan, sang abhangas, and danced with joyous abandon. Oblivious to my sore feet, I participated wholeheartedly with the enthusiastic bhaktas.
As Resident Commissioner, I was graciously felicitated by the organising committee. But the real honour was yet to come, to be allowed inside the sanctum sanctorum and join in the aarati of Vitthala himself. It was a moment of great blessing which I had never experienced before.
And then came the prasad, the simplest, most soul-satisfying meal of sabudana khichadi, bhagar, and taak (buttermilk) which tasted like divinity.
This Ashadhi was unlike any other in my life.
No, I hadn't walked hundreds of kilometres across the winding paths of Maharashtra to Pandharpur but I had taken the first step and it led me to divine and sacred blessings in this Sanketik Wari in India's capital.
I now understand why lakhs walk each year.
Why they sing through the pain, dance despite the blisters, and call out to Vitthal from the depths of their heart.
That day, under the Delhi sky, surrounded by the love and devotion of strangers who became companions and colleagues who became co-devotees my heart too sang,
Jai Hari Vitthal...Jai Hari Vitthal ! Jai Jai Ram Krishna Hari...Jai Jai Ram Krishna Hari with a hope that some day similarly Vitthal Mauli would lead me to Pandharpur...
Dressed in my new traditional avatar, I stood there not knowing a soul. No one from our office team had arrived yet. I felt a bit awkward, a stranger to this world I had admired from a distance.
But faith has a way of embracing you gently. I took darshan of Prachin Hanuman at the temple in Connaught Place which was the starting point of the Wari.
Having received the blessings of Lord Hanuman, I walked towards the group and introduced myself to Shri.Dange the main organiser. He and the team greeted me with warmth and joy. Encouraged, I joined the growing dindi. I had told my driver to follow behind. I would walk just symbolically for a few minutes and then return.
But the few minutes turned into an hour, then two. The chants of "Vitthal Vitthal Jai Hari Vitthal" rang in my ears, the rhythm of the dhol-tasha stirred something deep inside, and the sight of the idol of Vitthal in the tempo not only brought inexplicable peace but gave me energy to walk.
Soon, one of our officials from Maharashtra Sadan joined me on the route. Her presence also boosted my morale and encouraged me to keep walking. Before long, many officers from the Government of India had joined the Wari as well. Seeing familiar faces in unfamiliar settings made me feel at home, and added to the joy of the experience.
I kept walking. Kilometres melted beneath my feet.
By the time we reached the Vitthal Rukmini Temple at R.K. Puram, I had become a part of something so deeply spiritual, so emotionally uplifting, that every thought of physical discomfort had vanished.
There was a sea of devotees waiting to welcome the dindi. The air was festive yet reverent. We played phugdi, watched the ringan, sang abhangas, and danced with joyous abandon. Oblivious to my sore feet, I participated wholeheartedly with the enthusiastic bhaktas.
As Resident Commissioner, I was graciously felicitated by the organising committee. But the real honour was yet to come, to be allowed inside the sanctum sanctorum and join in the aarati of Vitthala himself. It was a moment of great blessing which I had never experienced before.
And then came the prasad, the simplest, most soul-satisfying meal of sabudana khichadi, bhagar, and taak (buttermilk) which tasted like divinity.
This Ashadhi was unlike any other in my life.
No, I hadn't walked hundreds of kilometres across the winding paths of Maharashtra to Pandharpur but I had taken the first step and it led me to divine and sacred blessings in this Sanketik Wari in India's capital.
I now understand why lakhs walk each year.
Why they sing through the pain, dance despite the blisters, and call out to Vitthal from the depths of their heart.
That day, under the Delhi sky, surrounded by the love and devotion of strangers who became companions and colleagues who became co-devotees my heart too sang,
Jai Hari Vitthal...Jai Hari Vitthal ! Jai Jai Ram Krishna Hari...Jai Jai Ram Krishna Hari with a hope that some day similarly Vitthal Mauli would lead me to Pandharpur...
