Ground Reports
Sukhdev shows a picture of his kanwar yatra
Ranjit Kumar, 31, undertook the kanwar yatra for the first time this year. A migrant from Bihar living in the suburbs of New Delhi, Ranjit drives an autorickshaw for a living.
When he migrated to Delhi more a decade ago, he worked as a hired driver for several years. Now, he owns the rickshaw he drives.
An important pilgrimage site for Hindus situated on the banks of Ganga river, Haridwar sees particularly heavy footfall during the month of Shravan.
Devotees of Lord Shiva come from far off places to fill the holy Ganga water or Gangajal in their canisters, to pour it on a Shivalinga in a temple near their house.
An estimated four crore pilgrims (called kanwariyas) arrived in Haridwar this year. Readers may note that Haridwar is not the only site from which the kanwariyas pick up Gangajal. Gaumukh and Gangotri in Uttarakhand are quite popular, and even smaller ghats like Garh Mukteshwar in Uttar Pradesh's Hapur district attract large crowds.
Shravan is the fifth month of the Hindu calendar that typically stretches from late July to the third week of August.
Though Ranjit has a motor vehicle permit only for Gautam Buddha Nagar district, policemen did not stop his autorickshaw from entering other districts of Uttar Pradesh and Uttarakhand. “Travel rules are relaxed for kanwariyas,” he said.
Only one of the five friends had prior experience of taking the kanwar yatra. They stopped at various shivirs on the way for water and food, and reached Haridwar by 5 pm. They bought plastic canisters at the spot, filled those with Gangajal, and went to a dharmshala (resthouse) built by a charitable trust. Around 11 pm, the friends started their journey home.
They drove all night to reach Noida in the morning, and headed straight to a Shiva temple. Their pilgrimage concluded after they offered the Gangajal to the Shivalinga and ate prasad.
The friends returned to their respective homes, slept off the day, and resumed work from Tuesday. Other than Ranjit, all friends are labourers and daily wagers.
The entire trip cost them Rs 1,000 besides Rs 250 on a pair of saffron T-shirt and shorts each. “The thousand rupees was the money spent on the fuel. The food and stay for the rest of the journey was free,” says Ranjit.
The rising popularity of kanwar yatra from a low-key event in the 1980s that involved only a few thousand pilgrims to a mega affair with participation in crores has left social observers most amused and perplexed. Some call it a resurgence of Hindu street power and a sign of rising religiosity, others call it a 'parade of lumpenism and hooliganism'.
Those claiming to be the voice of the poor even accuse ‘lower castes’ and Dalits of serving as foot soldiers of ‘upper caste Hindutvawadis’ (several independent observers have shown through casual on-ground analysis that a high number of ‘lower caste’ Hindus undertake the yatra as opposed to a few ‘upper-caste’ ones). Just like kanwar yatra, social media memes asking ‘lower caste’ Hindus to pick up books instead of kanwar has also become an annual affair.
This correspondent talked to two first-timers, including Ranjit, to understand what their motivations for undertaking the yatra were.
Ranjit confessed he did it out of bhakti (devotion), but also because it was fun. “Usually, a person asks for a wish from Lord Shiva and when the God fulfils the wish, the person offers him Gangaajal,” said Ranjit, and added, “I had not asked for any wish. I went because I thought it would be fun and it, of course, is a good deed.”
Ranjit was still wearing the saffron T-shirt with ‘mahakal’ inscribed on it when I met him on 20 July. He said, “I will wash it tonight and again wear it tomorrow. I will wear it every day till the month of Shravan.”
Ranjit would do so because he feels kanwariyas, identified by such clothes, command respect in the eyes of police and public.
The ‘liberal’ section of the media is not quite sympathetic to the kanwariyas. The headlines are typically framed like this:
Asked about the perception that kanwariyas are being increasingly seen as hooligans who create ruckus on streets, Ranjit said, “Who sees kanwariyas as hoooligans? I am hearing this for the first time from you.”
Ranjit belongs to Dhobi jaati that comes under Scheduled Castes list in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh besides some other states. Asked why those considered ‘lower caste’ join the yatra in droves, Ranjit thought for a moment and replied that perhaps it was because “all kanwariyas wear the same clothes and look the same”.
“There is no jaat-paat in kanwar yatra. This is like a baraat of Shiv bhagwan full of masti,” he said.
The other person I talked to was Sukhdev, 32, who lives in a settlement of Pakistani Hindu migrants in Manju Ka Tila area of Delhi. Till 2013, he was a resident of Hyderabad city in Sindh province of Pakistan.
He belongs to Bagri jaati – one of the most marginalised and poor tribal groups. This year, Sukhdev spent a major portion of his savings – about Rs 15,000 – on kanwar yatra.
He, along with a group of ten people from the same camp, undertook the journey to Haridwar. They filled their canisters with Gangajal and went on to cover other four major pilgrimage sites in Uttarakhand – Yamunotri, Gangotri, Kedarnath and Badrinath, also known as ‘chhota chaar dhaam’.
They returned last week, offering the Gangajal at a Hanuman temple in their area housing a Shivalinga. Sukhdev recounts it as the best experience of his life.
“It was also the farthest I travelled after migrating to India,” said Sukhdev, who is awaiting Indian citizenship.
Asked for his reasons for undertaking kanwar yatra, Sukhdev said he found it liberating. “It was like breaking shackles. We don’t get to travel as freely in Pakistan,” he said.
Walking with thousands of kanwariyas, Sukhdev felt he was truly a part of India. “Not just physically, but also culturally,” he said.