Introduction
Every year, as the scent of the first monsoon rain rises from the earth, something ancient awakens in Maharashtra. From small villages and bustling cities, barefoot and sandal-clad devotees begin walking — not out of obligation, but out of belonging. This is the Wari or Vari, a sacred journey to Pandharpur that’s as much about heart and heritage as it is about God.
But make no mistake — the Wari isn’t confined to rituals and chants. It is culture in motion, a thread of memory stitched into the land, sung through its people, and carried by footsteps that know no caste, gender, or class.
A Tradition Still Alive — Not in Books, but on Roads
The Wari is said to be over 800 years old. Its origins are traced to Sant Dnyaneshwar and Sant Tukaram, who not only walked this route but filled it with the soul of Bhakti poetry and music. What started as a spiritual act became a generational tradition — one that continues even in the era of express highways and 5G networks.
Families walk together — old men with walking sticks, women balancing tulsi pots on their heads, little children learning to sing abhangs as naturally as nursery rhymes. They don’t do it for fame, nor out of fear. They do it because it feels like coming home.
Beyond Belief — Culture, Community, and Courage
While the Wari is rooted in devotion to Vithoba, its impact goes far beyond religion. It’s a cultural phenomenon — a musical procession, a mobile archive, a social equalizer.
Each group of pilgrims, called a dindi, sings as they walk. The songs — abhangs — are rich with philosophy, love, social commentary, and even rebellion. These verses, many composed centuries ago, still carry weight. They are sung with taal, veena, and mridangam, creating a soundscape that echoes through fields and cities alike.
Clothing carries meaning too. Men wear white cotton dhotis, Gandhi topis, and carry shoulder bags. Women wear Nauvari sarees, often brightly coloured, functional, and filled with pride. Many carry a tulsi vrindavan, not just as a religious offering but as a symbol of nurturing life along the way.
Walk of Equality — Where Everyone Belongs
Perhaps the most beautiful part of the Wari is this: it breaks down social walls. On this path, a farmer and a professor may walk side by side. A grandmother might share her bhakri with a student she just met. People open their homes, shops, and hearts to the pilgrims.
There’s no hierarchy. No reservations. Just shared blistered feet and a common song. Youth groups and NGOs now participate by providing water stations, medical aid, or simply a cheer from the roadside. Some towns even organize cultural evenings — Lavani dances, Bhakti geet recitals, or folk plays — as a tribute to the pilgrims walking past.
Symbols That Walk: How the Wari Speaks
Without Words You don’t need a guidebook to understand the Wari. Its meaning is carried in the smallest of things — a saffron flag fluttering in the wind, the sound of a taal, or the feel of bare feet on warm earth. These aren’t just details — they’re the soul of the journey.
Tulsi Mala
Wrapped around the necks of Warkaris, tulsi beads feel like quiet prayers. They aren’t flashy — just a sign of peace, focus, and deep devotion.
Saffron Flag
You see it from a distance — bold, bright, full of life. It doesn’t shout. It leads. A reminder of faith that never fades.
Saints’ Paduka
Wooden sandals carried in the palkhi aren’t just symbols — they’re stories. The saints may be gone, but their footsteps still guide the path.
Sound of Bhakti The ektari sings. The taal keeps the beat. Together, they turn the road into a song — one that belongs to everyone who walks.
The Ringan Horse
It gallops in a perfect circle, kicking up dust that people welcome like a blessing. For a few moments, everything stands still — just awe and energy.
Tulsi Pots & Rangoli
Women balance little tulsi vrindavans on their heads, steady and graceful. At every stop, someone draws rangoli — simple, beautiful, made for no one and everyone.
Vitthal’s Stance
That familiar image — hands on hips, calm, strong. You don’t have to see a temple. He’s already in the songs, in the sky, in the silence between steps.
Dindi Togetherness
Everyone walks in rhythm, shoulder to shoulder. A farmer, a school teacher, a grandmother — no one’s a stranger here. They all belong.
Bare Feet
Dusty, blistered, and still moving. The feet of the Warkari say more than any speech could — I’m here, I believe, I walk on.
Changing with Time, Rooted in Soul
Like any living tradition, the Wari is evolving. Plastic use is discouraged, and pilgrims are now encouraged to carry their own steel plates and tumblers. Some dindis even use solar-powered lights. Volunteers use WhatsApp groups to manage supplies and first aid. And in recent years, documentary filmmakers and researchers have begun walking the route to record stories, songs, and practices that were never written down.
This pilgrimage has also inspired many creative works — from films like “Gajaar” to theatre performances and academic studies. In fact, the Wari is now part of India’s UNESCO tentative list of Intangible Cultural Heritage, a sign of global recognition.
Soil-Stained but Unshaken: The Path Today
The Ashadhi Ekadashi and Kartiki Wari are the two major events, drawing lakhs of people. But smaller dindis happen year-round. Some are carried out in memory of loved ones. Others are started by local youth just to keep the tradition alive.
Many of these routes begin from Dehu (Tukaram’s town) or Alandi (Dnyaneshwar’s town). The main procession covers over 250 kilometers, taking 18–21 days, passing through Pune, Baramati, Phaltan, Lonand, and more. The landscape changes, but the rhythm remains.
Conclusion: When the Road Becomes a Song
If you ever find yourself by the roadside in June or July, and you hear a chorus of voices rising in unity, look closer. You’ll see the Wari — not just as a pilgrimage, but as Maharashtra’s beating heart.
It’s not only about Vithoba. It’s about voices remembered, values passed down, and footsteps that refuse to forget. It’s about a shared melody of effort, endurance, and hope.
The Wari doesn’t just go to Pandharpur. It goes deep — into memory, into identity, into the very soil that keeps Maharashtra walking.
References & Sources
Sahapedia: Warkari Movement and Wari Documentation
“Warkari Sampradaya: Bhakti Tradition of Maharashtra” – INTACH Publication
UNESCO: India’s Tentative List of Intangible Cultural Heritage (Wari entry)
Maharashtra Tourism: Wari Festival Overview
“Abhangs of Tukaram” – Translations by Dilip Chitre
News18 article on Eco-Conscious Wari, 2022
Documentary film: Gajaar (2011) directed by Ajit Bhairavkar