Tuning In To The Voices Of Vari: Bhakti As Reconstruction Of Hindu Religious Thought?

ऐकाऐकानारायण,
ऐकाऐकानारायण,
कोणकरीलमाझेहित,
कोणकरीलमाझेहित...?

Listen, O Narayana,
Listen, O Narayana,
Who will do what is good for me?
Who will act in my best interest?

Voices rose gently above the sound of trudging feet and rustling saris. It was a cloudy morning, and the chariot of Sant Dnyaneshvar Maharaj had travelled some distance.

Thousands of pilgrims walked together; their steps synchronised with the rhythm of taal and pakhwaj, two of the central musical instruments of the pilgrimage. The rhythm coupled with the poetic outpourings of the Varkari saints filled the path to Pandharpur with music.

Maharashtra has long been a vibrant space of identity assertion, whether through recent debates around language, such as the implementation of the three-language policy or through caste-based movements like the Maratha reservation agitations. The questions of identity have been important and led to the emergence of various movements in the state. These have also played a role in constructing what is often referred to as Maharashtrian asmita, a term that broadly means pride, selfhood, or collective identity associated with being Maharashtrian.

A significant contributor to this asmita is the Varkari Sampradaya, a Bhakti tradition often framed, especially in academic discourse, as a social reform movement, much like other Bhakti movements across India. This interpretation has given rise to works that highlight the tradition's reformist and resistance aspects. For instance, the recent doctoral thesis Bhakti as Resistance (Jayadas, 2022) or a famous work from the Marathi literature, Vidrohi Tukaram (Salunkhe, 2012). These and many similar works foreground the Varkari movement as a site of protest, resistance, and social transformation.

The characterisation of the Bhakti movement in Maharashtra as rebellious has largely been shaped by scholarly interpretations of the hagiographies of the Varkari saints and their poetic compositions. These poems, known as abhangas, are central to the Varkari tradition. Their significance becomes especially evident during the vari, the annual pilgrimage to Pandharpur, which the author has participated in. Throughout the journey, abhangas are sung continuously, forming the sonic and emotional fabric of the pilgrimage.

The abhangas are interpreted as powerful expressions of protest: against the caste system, the authority of the Vedas, the dominance of Sanskrit, and patriarchal norms. These readings have shaped how the Bhakti tradition is understood, especially in academic circles. But as one walks through vari, listening to abhangas sung on rain-drenched roads, in crowded tents, and under the open sky, a deeper world emerges. The words of poetry seem to challenge the neat category of 'resistance.'

A pool of paradoxes emerges between how Varkari poetry was interpreted and what encompassed. This dissonance leaves one grappling with two important questions: Are the prevailing interpretations the result of selective readings of the abhangas? Or the frameworks themselves are inadequate to capture the complexities embedded within this poetic tradition? Further, what are we missing when we see Bhakti only as protest? What else might these poems say?

Recognising the range of diverse themes weaved in abhangas invites us to pause and perhaps rethink not just the poetry, but the Varkari tradition and the Bhakti movement itself. Might Bhakti be not only a critique of the Hindu world, but also a different way of being and thriving in it?

Rather than providing definitive answers, this essay foregrounds the nuances that are often overlooked in discourses on Bhakti, inviting readers to reflect on the multiple ways it has been understood. Drawing on fieldwork, abhangas, and academic scholarship, it raises questions and paradoxes that resist singular readings and instead open a space for dialogue between older interpretations and new possibilities of thinking Bhakti.

The Very Vedantic way of Vari

The very idea of a rath, carrying the padukas of the saint, the singing of the sacred poetry by Varkaris, make for an immersive experience with the tools and techniques of both spiritual, devotional, symbolic and ritual Hindu practices. This begs the question of why such a Varkari method was devised steeped in Hindu symbolism and rituals of sing, pray, love, if they were originally intended to reject the same methods?

Sound is an inseparable element of the vari experience, creating a rich and immersive auditory landscape, fully in synergy with Shravana-Manana-Nidhidhyasana pathway of Vedanta. This Vedantic way of divination says that one must progress from hearing sacred teachings to reflecting on them, and finally, to integrating them into one's being and living by them. This finds a living expression in practices of vari.

The rhythmic pulse of the taal and the deep resonance of the pakhwaj form a constant backdrop, while chants of "Dnyanabamauli Tukaram" and the recitation of abhangas drift through the air, blending with the music of traditional instruments. Each dindi follows a structured routine of singing these devotional hymns, led by a bhajani mandal, a dedicated music troupe that guides the procession alongside flag bearers. From dawn until dusk, these singers fill the journey with sacred verses, infusing every moment with devotion and rhythm.

The bhajani mandal is open to all, regardless of formal training. What matters is the willingness to immerse oneself in the act of singing. Anyone drawn to the abhangas can join, learning along the way. When I first expressed interest, one of the kakas (elders) in the troupe kindly handed me the Varkari Bhajan Malika, a treasured compilation of devotional verses.

As we walked, he guided me through the sequence of abhangas, his voice blending with the chorus of pilgrims. Each dindi follows a set order of abhangas, yet each has its own distinct melody. The Bhajani Malika organises these hymns thematically, giving a devotional structure that mirrors the transformative process envisioned in Vedanta.

Chanting-in the Divine Presence

Let us listen more closely: what kinds of abhangas weave themselves into the air, and how the soundscape of the vari takes shape and what ontologies emerge from it?

Long before sunrise, while darkness still clung to the sky, a group of Varkaris gathered before the tent holding Sant Dnyaneshwar Maharaj's padukas. Forming a semi-circle, they began singing kakda abhangas, the awakening hymns meant to rouse both pilgrims and Vitthal himself. A crowd surrounded them, while an endless line of devotees waited for darshan, some having arrived even before the saint's palanquin reached the town.

Through these verses, the Varkaris did more than just announce the break of day; they called upon Vitthal as one would a beloved child, urging him to rise and bless those who yearned for his presence. This intimate devotion reflects how Varkaris see Vitthal: not as a distant god, but as a listening, responding deity, deeply connected to their lives. One such kakda abhanga by Sant Namdev reminded pilgrims of the preciousness of human life, urging them to use this birth to seek the divine.

उठाउठासाधुसंत।साधाआपुलालेहित।जाईलहानरदेह।मगकैचाभगवंत ॥१॥

उठोनिवेगेसी।चलाजाऊराउळासी।जळतीपातकांच्याराशी।काकडआरतीदेखिलिया ॥२॥

उठोनियापहाटे।विठ्ठलपहाउभाविटे।चरणतयाचेगोमटे।अमृतदृष्टीअवलोका ॥३॥

जागेकरारुक्मिणीवरा।देवआहेनिदसुरा।वेगेनिंबलोणकरा।दृष्टहोईलतयासी ॥४॥

पुढेवाजंत्रीवाजती।ढोलदमामेगर्जती।होतेकाकडाआरती।पांडुरंगरायाची ॥५॥

सिंहनादशंखभेरी।गजरहोतोमहाद्वारी।केशवराजविटेवरी।नामाचरणवंदितो ॥६॥

(1) "Wake up, wake up, O saints and sages, Seek your own true welfare. This human form will perish one day, Then, how will you find the Lord?"

(2)"Rise up swiftly, Let us go to the temple! The heaps of burning sins will vanish, When we behold the waving of the sacred lamp (āratī)."

(3) "Awake in the early dawn, See Vitthal standing on the brick! His lotus feet are radiant, His glance is nectar—behold Him!"

(4) "Wake the Lord of Rukmini (Vitthal), The Divine One is deep in slumber. Quickly, offer Him neem-and-turmeric (ritual offering), And His eyes will open upon you!"

(5) "Ahead, the instruments play, Drums and trumpets resound. The waving of the sacred lamp (kākaḍāratī) begins, For Pandurang, the Sovereign Lord!"

(6) "The roar of conches and drums, The clamor at the great temple gates. Keshavraj (Krishna) stands upon the brick, And Nama bows at His feet!"

One of the most famous abhangas by Sant Dnyaneshwar Maharaj holds a special place in the pilgrimage's music sequence.

In this hymn, he expresses the overwhelming joy of beholding Vitthal's divine form (rupa), declaring that such devotion does not come easily; it is the fruit of countless virtuous deeds (sukruta). With poetic grace, he reveals Vitthal as the very source of all bliss, the ultimate abode of joy.

His words carry a gentle yet profound message: Vitthal is the abode of all the happiness.

रूपपाहतांलोचनीं।सुखजालेंवोसाजणी ॥१॥

तोहाविठ्ठलबरवा।तोहामाधवबरवा ॥२॥

बहुतांसुकृतांचीजोडी।ह्मणुनिविठ्ठलींआवडी ॥३॥

सर्वसुखाचेंआगर।बापरखुमादेवीवर ॥४॥

(1) "Gazing upon His radiant form, My heart overflows with joy, O beloved!"

(2) "He is the glorious Vitthal, He is the divine Madhav!"

(4) "He is the ocean of all bliss, The Lord of Rakhumai (Rukmini), our protector!"

Another striking feature of vari is the daily recitation of the Haripath, a revered compilation of 28 abhangas composed by Sant Dnyaneshwar Maharaj, a ritual which forms the cornerstone of a purported anti-ritualistic movement. This isn't just a poetic reading; it's a collective practice, a rhythm of devotion that structures the day for many dindis (pilgrim groups). Each dindi follows its own routine: some choose to recite the Haripath around noon, others in the evening, and a few even repeat it multiple times a day.

The Haripath is more than a devotional chant; it is a guidebook for spiritual living. At its heart is a simple yet profound message: liberation lies in chanting the divine name: Hari's naam. Sant Dnyaneshwar Maharaj urges everyone, regardless of status or learning, to take up the practice of naam-japa. According to him, the Vedas, Shastras, and Puranas, despite their varying styles, all ultimately point to the same truth: Hari, the divine, is both the source and substance of existence, and the path to him lies through his name.

But Sant Dnyaneshwar Maharaj doesn't stop at instruction. He explains the transformative power of this practice, how naam leads to moksha, spiritual liberation. He even says that by chanting the name, not only does the individual benefit, but their ancestors too are uplifted. The Haripath also highlights the indispensable role of the guru and the importance of bhava i.e. a deep, heartfelt emotion in spiritual pursuit. In the middle of the long journey, under open skies, surrounded by dust and devotion, the recitation of the Haripath becomes an anchor. It is instruction and inspiration, a reminder that the divine is not distant, but Hari, the one who animates the body within and the world outside.

Poetry, protest, and paradoxes!

"Chokhamela (untouchable saint-poet of Maharashtra and a varkari, i.e., devotee of Vitthal affectionately known as Vithoba, the deity of Pandharpur), Jani or Janabai (the serving maid of Namdev the tailor, 14th century)... Ekanath,... Tukaram,... Almost all these came from low social origins or sympathised with socially exploited classes and stood for anti-orthodoxy, anti-brahminism, anti-caste, ridiculed vedic-epic-puranic textual tradition and by and large represented non-Sanskritik thought current (Reason and rationality, Shrimali, 2015)."

The abhangas sung during the vari pilgrimage (some of which are mentioned above), when closely examined, prompt us to rethink these assumptions. Was Bhakti merely about protest? What ontological assumptions underlie the dominant interpretation of Bhakti as primarily a social movement? These are pressing questions, especially when one notices the dissonance between what scholars claim and what the Varkari saints themselves express through their poetry.

The Varkari tradition, therefore, demands a more nuanced approach, one that recognises its complexity rather than flattening it into a singular narrative of resistance. In this context, poetry becomes a rich site for critical engagement. Through a close reading of abhangas, we can begin to confront these paradoxes.

Re-centering Bhakti as a Reform within the Vedic Epistemology

Upon deeper analysis of abhangas, it is found that the Varkari saints upheld the authority of Vedas. Scholars (Abhyankar, 2018; Dandekar, 1994) have argued that Varkari saints never rebelled against Vedic tradition. They did not rebel towards Vedas or the knowledge encoded in them. Instead they asserted that they came to the world to pass on the Vedic wisdom:

This abhanga by Sant Tukaram which is a testament to the above assertion:

आम्हीवैकुंठवासी | आलोयाचिकारणासी | बोलिलेजेऋषि | साचभावेवर्ताया |

झाडूसंतांचेमारग | आडरानीभरलेजग | उच्छिष्टाचाभाग | शेषउरलातोसेवू |

अर्थेलोपालीपुराणे | नाशकेलेशब्दज्ञाने | विषयलोभीमने | साधनाबुडविली |

पिटूभक्तीचाडांगोरा | कळिकाळासीदरारा | तुकाम्हणेकरा | जयजयकारआनंदे ||

(1) We are the dwellers of Vaikuntha; We have come for this very purpose, To live truthfully, In accordance with what the sages have spoken.

(2) Let us sweep clean the path of the saints; The world is clogged with weeds and obstructions. Even what remains as leftover, Let us serve that sacred remnant.

(3) The true meaning of the Puranas has been lost; People have destroyed their essence with wordy pedantry. Desires have seized their minds, And in that, they have drowned the very path of spiritual practice.

(4) Let us beat the drum of Bhakti, So that even the age of Kali is stuck with awe! Tuka says: sing aloud with joy, Victory to Bhakti! Glory all around!

This abhanga together reflect Sant Tukaram's deep reverence for the Bhakti path as rooted in the tradition of Rishis, the seers of Vedas, while also sharply criticising the degeneration of that tradition through hollow selfishness. He does not reject the tradition but calls for its purification and revival through sincere devotion.

The knowledge and methods to reach divinity as told in Vedas were put forth differently here. The saints told what the crux of the Vedas was. One can see that Vedic tradition was not ridiculed by these saints. But definitely they were reorienting it for audiences.

वेदाचाअनुभवशास्त्रांचाअनुवाद । नामचिगोविंदएकपुरे ॥

The Vedas' essence and the meaning of all scriptures, Are fulfilled completely in the name of Govinda (God's name alone is enough).

In this line, Sant Chokhamela distils the entire wisdom of the Vedas and scriptures into a single spiritual act: chanting the name of God. By saying that "nāmacha govinda ēka purē" (the name alone is sufficient), Sant Chokhamela is not rejecting the Vedas but rather emphasising that their deepest experience and essence is accessible through Bhakti (devotion), specifically namasmarana (repeating God's name). His poetry here does not discard scriptural knowledge but translates it into a form available to all, regardless of caste or scholarly status. In this sense, he is not in opposition to the Vedic tradition but offers a reinterpretation rooted in devotional accessibility. It also reveals how he saw the Varkari path not as rebellion against the Vedas, but as a continuation of their truest spirit.

Emphasising Love in Rituals: Bhakti Yoga

The Varkari Sampradaya had also been known to have anti-ritualistic stance (Metcalf, 1991). But we see in case of vari, the pilgrimage itself contains many rituals. The daily aarti, collective singing of Haripath as elaborated above, walking in dindi formations are some processes of vari which have to be conducted in a particular manner every year. In fact vari as a whole emerges as a very organised ritual act where duties are distributed amongst certain people to ensure smooth performance of above-mentioned acts repeatedly.

Moreover, what is usually perceived as anti-ritualistic stance of Bhakti, here in verse one we see that Sant Dnyaneshwar is not criticising the paths of yoga and rituals to attain divinity but the lack of bhava (emotions or the feeling of devotion) in these paths. Without bhava these paths will lead a person nowhere.

योगयागविधियेणेंनोहेसिद्धी । वायांचिउपाधिदंभधर्म ॥१॥

भावेंविणदेव न कळेनि:संदेह । गुरुविणअनुभवकैसाकळे ॥२॥

तपेंवीणदैवतदिधल्याविणप्राप्त । गुजेंविणहितकोणसांगे ॥३॥

ज्ञानदेवसांगेदृष्टांताचीमात । साधूचेसंगतीतरणोपाय ॥४॥

(1) Neither yoga nor yagna (rituals) lead to true realisation, Without devotion, they are but empty displays, mere ego and pretentious virtue.

(2) Without heartfelt love, God cannot be known with certainty, Without the Guru's grace, how can one experience the Divine?

(3) Without austerity, the Divine remains distant; without surrender, attainment is impossible. Who can speak of true welfare without humility?

(4) Jnandev declares this as the ultimate truth: The company of saints (satsang) is the only boat to cross life's ocean.

Hence, what the saints critiqued was not ritual itself but its empty repetition. They sought instead to infuse ritual with bhava, emotion, longing, joy, and love, so that it became a living act of devotion rather than a lifeless performance. For Varkari saints rituals were meaningful only when the heart participated, and the vari demonstrates this vision: it is not mechanical walking but walking suffused with remembrance, song, and collective Bhakti. In this way, the saints retained ritual as a vital worship form, while transforming its meaning by making emotion and inner participation its essence. Consequently, Bhakti proposed simpler paths to moksha than that of the Vedic sacrifice without rejecting the Vedas (Kannan, 2021).

Re-casting the Varkari in the Bhakti Varna

If one examines the scholarship on Varkaris, we find an almost predictable interpretation of the Varkari tradition as an anti-caste movement. But what does it really mean to call Bhakti movement "anti-caste"? Does it imply that the saints rejected the caste system? Did they tell people to abandon their caste identities altogether? Or does it mean they condemned discrimination based on caste, while still navigating within its frameworks?

This question becomes more complex when we consider the Varkari tradition. Did the saints ask their followers to let go of their caste and identify solely as Varkaris? Did becoming a Varkari mean rejecting being a Hindu? If the tradition was indeed a radical break from caste, why didn't it evolve into a separate social category like the Lingayats? Why didn't such an uprising take place?

These questions invite us to look deeper into how the saints saw themselves and others. Was their resistance like that of Ambedkar's? If the nature of protest was indeed the same, why did the trajectories of the movements they inspired diverge so significantly? If the Varkari tradition had such transformative potential, why didn't it translate into a 'structural revolution'? Perhaps the nature of transformation offered by the Varkari saints was fundamentally different.

A closer reading of the abhangas suggests that Varkari saints upheld the idea of varnashram dharma, a concept central to traditional Hindu social and spiritual life.

The writings of the saint-poets regularly insist that Viṭṭhal welcomes and accepts the devotion and love of everyone, regardless of caste, and that everyone is equally qualified to walk this spiritual path. This sentiment has led some people to envision the Varkari saint-poets as pre-modern social reformers. Yet the saint-poets never explicitly condemned the caste system nor argued for its total abolition (Keune, 2014).

Another interesting observation is that the Dalit identity of the Varkari saint, Sant Chokhamela is harped as a case-and-point for how the Varkari tradition was a vehement force in the anti-caste movement of Maharashtra. Yet, despite this emphasis, Sant Chokhamela is conspicuously absent from the dominant histories of social justice movements in the region. How can one explain this selective amnesia? If indeed the vari was such a tour de force in the social cognisance of Maharashtrian society, then the Dalit saints such as Sant Chokhamela must have been central figures in their historiographies like that of Ambedkar.

In contrast, within the Dalit movement itself, a movement that culminated in Ambedkar's call for mass conversion to Buddhism and continues today through organisations like the Dalit Panthers, Chokhamela's place has been marginal. This is perhaps because his voice of protest is framed within Bhakti (Mokashi-Punekar, 2005), rather than in explicitly revolutionary terms. On the other side, one cannot help but note that Chokhamela's Dalit identity has not dented his importance as a Varkari saint-poet in the tradition, his samadhi being located in the premises of the Vitthal-Rukmini temple of Pandharpur. This juxtaposition prompts a further question: does Chokhamela's association with Hinduism complicate his Dalit identity and the concept of Bhakti for scholars, who seem to conveniently never articulate this interaction to their own rationalities?

Can we read Bhakti and its poetry differently?

"Bhakti movement was a challenge to the orthodox and repressive Brahminical understanding of Hinduism, and as such, it opened up religious space for lower castes and women to articulate their spiritual aspirations emphasising devotion and love, not knowledge, as a means of salvation" (Mokashi-Punekar, 2005).

While this is undoubtedly an important contribution of the movement, we must pause to ask: was Bhakti only a movement of resistance and questioning? Or did it also serve a different, perhaps deeper, purpose? As seen earlier, the abhangas reflect reverence for the Vedas, acknowledgment of the varnashram dharma, and a critique not of rituals per se, but of the mechanical, emotionless performance of ritual devoid of bhava (feeling).

If this is the case, then what exactly do we mean by 'Brahminical Hinduism'? And how is the Bhakti understanding different from it? Does this mean that Bhakti does not entail the path of knowledge and is purely based on love? Then why does the Varkari Sampradaya stress so much on practices like the recitation of Haripath or reading of texts like Tukaram Gatha and Dnyaneshwari? Why do the Varkari kirtankars advise the process of chintan or introspection of such texts?

The Varkari path cannot be seen not as an 'emotional practice' set against 'intellectual philosophy'. Hence, how accurate is it to sustain a binary between 'Brahminical' and 'Bhakti' worldviews, as if one represents rigid orthodoxy and the other radical rupture? We can further ponder, could this dichotomy be a construct, shaped by selective readings and contemporary frameworks of social critique?

What might be understood about Bhakti movement if the core of Hinduism is kept intact in the newer frameworks of interpretation?

Through such frameworks, if we are able to instead view Bhakti not as rejection of the older traditions of Hinduism but as its reconstruction, the paradoxes begin to make sense. We might consider the Bhakti movement not simply as a protest against karma-kanda (ritual action) but as a reconfiguration of it. Perhaps Bhakti offered an alternate path, naamsmaran (chanting the divine name), that retained the metaphysical goals of Dharma but made them more accessible across caste, gender, and class.

Bhakti does not discard the metaphysical aims of Hinduism (such as moksha, atma-jnana, yoga, or dharma); rather, it reorients the means. This is a democratisation of spiritual practice, not a denial of its earlier forms, but a reinterpretation for a wider audience. Reconstruction also makes room for both affirmation and critique. A saint can challenge the abuse of varna differences without discarding the metaphysical framework in which varnashram dharma was originally conceived. One can affirm the Vedas as pointing to truth, while also pointing out that mere ritualism without devotion is empty. Thus, Bhakti saints can speak within tradition, while also transforming it.

Also, reconstruction might also frame Bhakti as a movement rooted in concern for the soul's liberation, not just social justice. This explains why many saints, including those from marginalised backgrounds, use terms and concepts from traditional Hindu philosophy; they were transforming the system from within, not throwing it out. Reconstruction also allows us to understand Bhakti's flexibility. In this view, Bhakti doesn't stand outside the Dharmic framework; rather, it is an inner transformation of it, a reconstruction that responds to the needs of a particular historical and social context, while remaining anchored in the fundamental aim of spiritual evolution.

If we read Bhakti this way, not merely as social reform but as a Dharmic reformulation, we begin to see its continuity with the philosophical traditions of Hindu thought. The movement doesn't reject categories like yuga, varna, or dharma, but reinterprets them in light of devotion, emotion, and inner realisation. This lens allows us to view Bhakti not just as an ethical or political intervention, but as a reimagining of the religious and metaphysical core of Hinduism itself.

Moreover, when situated within Hindu theology, Bhakti poetry reveals itself as a far more profound ontological discourse. Bhakti poetry especially in the Varkari Sampradaya emerges not only as a tool for social cohesion or internal critique of religious practices, but also as an expression of adhyatma (spiritual inquiry). It operates not only at the level of societal transformation, but also at the level of the individual self, offering a path of inner realisation.

Within the Varkari Sampradaya, the poetry of saints represents not merely emotional outpourings but articulations of experiential knowledge, i.e. anubhava-jnana. These poetic expressions encode pathways to the divine, articulate the nature of ultimate reality, and prescribe methods of attaining it. Moreover, when combined with music, poetry does not remain a static text; it might turn into a cognitive tool. The musical performance of abhangas might transmit a worldview, reconfigure the listener's inner orientation, and rewire their cognitive schemas. This poetry becomes an immersive, affective pedagogy, a living Vedanta accessible to all by reinterpreting it in a specific cultural context.

In this way, the soundscape of the vari has, for centuries, functioned as a dynamic vehicle for transmitting Varkari values. Hence, vari thus becomes a mobile institution of learning, where poetry subtly ingrains Bhakti ontologies in the minds of its participants. Hence, the blending of poetry and music in the vari is not a mere aesthetic phenomenon; it is a phenomenon that sustains the Vedantic voices of the tradition into the modern age.