By Colonel Prem Bahadur Thapa (Retd)
The other day, while watching the news, one wasn’t really surprised at the noisy scenes created by Kanwar processions travelling on the highways. In fact, this is an annual ritual that needs no introduction. Unruly overdrives and accidents, created by the logjams are not uncommon, resulting sometimes in severe brawls, injuries and even death. Security is fully geared to regulate smooth travel but often appear helpless when confronted by frenzied revellers, heedless of traffic disruptions they might be causing. But this year it was even more evident. The moving rally was accompanied by large musical systems, mounted on sky high vehicular platforms with boys and girls both dancing in front of them. Though they were supposedly playing bhajans, it looked like a rock festival. Some Kanwarias dressed as monkey gods were also frolicking, to draw attention, but the whole scene looked anything other than religious.
But things were different not many years ago. I was posted in Roorkee and the year was 1993. It lies bang on the tracks of the Kanwars travelling westwards to destinations in UP..Haryana..Delhi..Rajasthan and adjoining places far and near. The main highway passes right through the Military Cantonment. I was there for almost three years and the most pleasant encounters with them, walking or resting by the roadside were an experience one hadn’t known before.
They mostly travelled by night and watching their near endless numbers marching on in total silence, perhaps immersed in prayers or determination to complete their yatra was a sight to remember for long. There were no elaborate police arrangements either except the necessary beef-ups and roads were not closed or bypasses created for it. Normal traffic moved but with due care and respect for the Kanwars. There was no loud religious chanting or the near hysterical singing and dancing that often accompanies the yatra today. It was a very peaceful affair and there were seldom any reports of law and order violations. We never saw them travelling on bikes or motor vans, it was strictly on foot – an ages old dictate that seems to have been forgotten today.
But that’s all in the past. We in Dehradun never saw their movement this side, while today, they are here too and one hesitates to encounter them. They all travel either on bikes or some kind of makeshift vans with flags and DJs, shouting or singing, which looks so unnecessary.
But again, one remembers a colleague, (Col Gajender Singh from a Jat Regiment), who was there with me in Roorkee. Hailing from Rewari, he decided to undertake that week long journey. He was on the verge of retirement and on the decided day, he shaved his head, changed to simple track suit, and walked off bare feet to Haridwar to collect the holy water and then marched back to his town, walking alongside others that would take many more days yet. I was there by the road side to cheer him and was somewhat moved to see him devoutly carrying his burden of love in silence and patient devotion. Perhaps that was Aastha, other than what we see today best not described.
Today, a media reporter was shown interviewing a Kanwaria who summarised it most aptly – that now only about ten per cent are sincere Yatris, the rest are all there only for fun and frolic (some even indulging in liquor and Ganja right in its midst). But can’t the clock be turned back? Unfortunately, one has no suggestion or wisdom on how to contain this unhealthy trend, trying to highjack our religious sentiments. Yet we must find an answer soon because, if not, the day is not far when it might totally spiral out of control.
