The rise of the modern Kawariya

Some time ago, the village behind our house was agog with activity. Drum rolls punctuated the peaceful morning and the raucous singing made me surmise that someone was getting married. Actually the village was sending off six men on the Kawariya pilgrimage. I stepped out to see the procession and recognised one of the youths in saffron shorts as the son of a neighbor's driver. He smiled and said, "we're off to Hardwar! This is going to so exciting..." His uncle Raju was going as well. This was the first time he was undertaking this pilgrimage, he said, because he didn't want his youthful nephew to go alone.

"This auspicious journey is to propitiate Lord Shiva," he said. In the olden days, he said, only older people undertook this pilgrimage to the Ganges, bringing back holy water to bathe the Shiva lingam in their local temple. They'd wear saffron to show that during the pilgrimage, they'd renounced all worldly pleasures. The holy water would be carried in clay pots suspended from the two ends of a gaily decorated bamboo pole. Most of them would do this journey on foot. How had they planned their pilgrimage?, I asked. Raju laughed, "We are going on motorcycles. None of us are fit enough to walk 200 kilometers!" Amid the revving to the bike engines, I bade them adieu and asked Raju to update me on his pilgrimage when he returned. Three days later my bell rang. It was Raju. "You're back already?" I asked. He handed me some prasad and sat down to narrate his experiences.

It had been nothing like the peaceful religious experience he'd expected. "We found that the entire Delhi-Hardwar highway was closed to non-pilgrimage traffic. Our bikes went so fast it felt we were going to take off! On the way, there were places for us to rest and eat - all free! The boys had so many free soft drinks and lassis, they forgot water..." They reached Hardwar in four hours, that, too, because the youngsters wanted to halt so often to sample all that free food and drink. "And some shelters also had DJs you see..." he said.

In Hardwar, they made a beeline to Har ki Pauri, the holiest section of the Ganges. "I'd thought we'd have our ritual dip, fill our water pitchers and meditate by the riverbank," said Raju. Instead there were at least 100,000 pilgrims crowding the river. They got shoved, pushed and even beaten with sticks! "Some pilgrims pledge to run all the way to the river and back. So they carry sticks to beat people blocking their way. We found ourselves stuck in the crush, with a group of such Kawars behind us..." he said. It sounded claustrophobic, I commented. "You've no idea!" he replied feelingly.

Neither had he, apparently. "I'd thought that with growing Westernisation, such pilgrimages would lose their shine for youngsters. But in Hardwar I realised that Kawariyas are gaining popularity and are a big business! Some said that around 15 million Kanwariyas come to Hardwar during this time..." he said. There were markets catering only to Kawariyas, selling lavish tableaus costing anything from Rs 10,000 to a couple of lakhs. Souvenirs, idols, bangles and of course water pots were for sale everywhere. Priests were offering to conduct all sorts of pujas. "They've a saying - Ek mahina kamayenge, gyarah mahine khayenge (earn just one month and spend for rest of the year)," he said.

On motorcycles, the pilgrimage that traditionally lasted weeks, was completed in days. I asked him whether he'd do it again. "I'd love to, but next time, instead of expecting a pilgrimage, I'll go when I feel like a hectic, exciting vacation in the rains!" he said.