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By:

Rajendra Joshi

3 December 2024 at 3:50:26 am

Kolhapur’s Pilgrimage Paradox

Kolhapur: Even as the state government clears the first tranche of Rs 1,500 crore under an ambitious Rs 5,000-crore plan for the development of Kolhapur as a major pilgrimage centre, the ground reality for devotees tells a far less reassuring story. Each month, the temple’s donation boxes swell by an estimated Rs two crore, while crores more lie parked in bank deposits earning interest. Yet, for the thousands who arrive daily to seek the blessings of Goddess Ambabai, the journey to the...

Kolhapur’s Pilgrimage Paradox

Kolhapur: Even as the state government clears the first tranche of Rs 1,500 crore under an ambitious Rs 5,000-crore plan for the development of Kolhapur as a major pilgrimage centre, the ground reality for devotees tells a far less reassuring story. Each month, the temple’s donation boxes swell by an estimated Rs two crore, while crores more lie parked in bank deposits earning interest. Yet, for the thousands who arrive daily to seek the blessings of Goddess Ambabai, the journey to the sanctum begins with an ordeal—walking barefoot on scorching roads under an unforgiving sun. With temperatures in Kolhapur soaring past 40°C, asphalt and concrete roads leading to the temple radiate intense heat. For devotees—many of whom travel hundreds of kilometres—this translates into a painful trek, quite literally. The situation is particularly harsh for senior citizens, who are often seen hopping from one foot to another in a desperate attempt to avoid the burning surface. In such conditions, the absence of even basic protective arrangements raises uncomfortable questions about priorities in pilgrimage infrastructure. Stark Irony The irony is stark. While policy blueprints and financial approvals move through bureaucratic channels, immediate, low-cost interventions remain unaddressed. Simple measures—laying heat-resistant carpets along key approach roads, ensuring regular water sprinkling to cool surfaces, and erecting temporary shaded canopies—could significantly ease the devotees’ distress. Such steps do not demand massive outlays, only administrative initiative. As chairperson of the temple trust, the Kolhapur District Collector is uniquely positioned to catalyse this response. The summer vacation period only amplifies the challenge. Families flock to Kolhapur in large numbers, often combining visits to Ambabai temple with pilgrimages to nearby shrines such as Jyotiba. The surge in footfall transforms the temple precinct into a sea of humanity. Yet, the infrastructure has failed to keep pace. A similar concern was flagged last year as well, with limited, ad hoc relief provided by a few local traders who laid makeshift carpets for their customers. This year, however, little appears to have changed. Humane Pilgrimage The issue, therefore, is not merely administrative—it is collective. The responsibility to ensure a humane pilgrimage experience cannot rest solely with the temple trust or the municipal corporation. Traders and business associations operating in the temple vicinity, who benefit from the steady influx of devotees, must also step forward. Kolhapur has historically demonstrated remarkable civic spirit during festivals such as Navratri and the Rathotsav. Extending that ethos to provide shaded pathways during peak summer would be a meaningful gesture of reciprocity. Across India, leading pilgrimage centres have invested in visitor comfort—air-conditioned waiting areas, chilled drinking water, and clean sanitation facilities are increasingly the norm. In many cases, nominal user charges are levied, and devotees are willing to pay for such services. Kolhapur risks falling behind if it does not address these gaps with urgency. At its core, the issue is one of dignity. Devotion should not come at the cost of physical distress. Until basic amenities are ensured, the promise of transforming Kolhapur into a premier religious tourism hub will remain incomplete. For now, the pilgrim’s experience continues to echo a troubling refrain: first the searing heat beneath the feet, and only then, the grace of the goddess.

Lingua Pragmatica

Updated: Mar 20, 2025

As Southern leaders like M.K. Stalin rage against Hindi, Andhra Pradesh’s Chief Minister Chandrababu Naidu offers a model of pragmatism over parochialism.

Chandrababu Naidu
Andhra Pradesh

Amid the cacophony of opposition in southern states to Hindi, Andhra Pradesh CM N. Chandrababu Naidu has taken a markedly pragmatic stance by remarking recently in the state Assembly that there was no harm in learning other languages. Hindi, Naidu noted, was useful for communication across India, particularly in political and commercial hubs like Delhi. His remarks, though avoiding explicit mention of the NEP, were widely seen as an endorsement of multilingualism and a rebuke to the linguistic chauvinism that has gripped parts of the South.


Few issues in India stir political passions quite like language. It is not merely a means of communication but a marker of identity, a relic of colonial resistance, and a source of political mobilization. In the southern states, where anti-Hindi sentiment has long been entrenched, the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 and its three-language formula have reignited old tensions. No state embodies this defiance more than Tamil Nadu, where the ruling Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) led by M.K. Stalin has framed the policy as an assault on its linguistic autonomy.


Naidu’s words, welcomed by his ally and Deputy Chief Minister Pawan Kalyan, mark a sharp contrast with the DMK’s position. Tamil Nadu’s hostility towards Hindi dates back to the 1930s, when C. Rajagopalachari’s attempt to introduce it in schools met with fierce resistance. The anti-Hindi agitations of the 1960s cemented the DMK’s ideological stance, with its first Chief Minister, C.N. Annadurai, famously warning that Hindi imposition could push Tamil Nadu towards secession.


The question, however, is whether this rigid opposition serves Tamil Nadu’s interests. While Stalin, with an eye to the upcoming Tamil Nadu Assembly polls, has been relentlessly portraying Hindi as a threat to his state’s regional identity, Naidu, a partner of the BJP-led Centre, is framing it as a tool for economic mobility. His argument is not that Hindi should replace Telugu or English but that it offers a competitive advantage.


The economic case for multilingualism is compelling. Indians who speak multiple languages tend to have better job prospects, higher earnings and greater geographic mobility. Andhra Pradesh’s Telugu-speaking diaspora is a case in point. Telugus make up a significant proportion of Indian-origin professionals in the United States, the Gulf, and Southeast Asia as Naidu pointed out, hinting that this success story was built not on linguistic rigidity but on adaptability.


In a country where inter-state migration is rising and where Hindi remains the most widely spoken language, refusing to learn it amounts to self-imposed isolation. Tamil Nadu’s approach, by contrast, risks limiting its youth. The DMK government has refused to implement the three-language policy, keeping schools strictly bilingual with Tamil and English. Its justification that Hindi is not necessary for global success could be true in a narrow sense but ignores the domestic context. If Tamil filmmakers can dub their movies into Hindi to expand their audience, why should Tamil students be denied access to the language that could open more doors for them within India?


The DMK has accused successive central governments, particularly under the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), of pushing Hindi at the expense of regional languages. Yet, rejecting Hindi outright is an overcorrection. The reality is that Hindi is an important language in India’s economic and political landscape. Naidu’s position, one of accommodation rather than confrontation, offers a middle ground that other Southern leaders would do well to consider.


Some states already recognize this. Karnataka, despite its own history of linguistic pride, has allowed Hindi to be taught as an optional language. Kerala, whose migrants work in Hindi-speaking regions and the Gulf, has been less hostile to Hindi education. Naidu’s model, balancing regional identity with practical necessity, offers a way forward. Languages should be embraced, not politicized. Southern leaders would do well to listen to him.

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