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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.

The Power of a Name: Why a Woman’s Surname Should Remain Her Own

A woman’s surname is not a tradition to be surrendered—it is an identity to be honoured.

AI generated image
AI generated image

In every culture, names carry stories—childhoods, histories, places, belonging and identity.A surname is not just a word on certificates; it is a quiet record of one’s origins, the echo of generations, and the imprint of a life lived so far.


Yet tradition created a strange rule: when a woman marries, she must surrender her name—as though her identity were an object to be moved or a page rewritten for someone else’s story.This expectation is old, deeply rooted—and unnecessary.


Today, more and more women are questioning it. And rightfully so. A woman’s surname is not a temporary gift from her birth family.


A girl grows into her surname. She writes it in school, signs it on her work and uses it to build her world. Her surname becomes part of her identity long before she understands marriage.


So why should marriage demand she abandon it?Does her life before that moment become irrelevant?Does marriage erase who she was, who she is or who she hopes to be?Of course not.


Patriarchal Roots.

Historically, the practice of a woman changing her surname arose from patriarchal systems in which she was treated as property—transferred from her father’s household to her husband’s, with the surname marking that shift.We no longer live in that world. Women study, earn, build, and lead—yet this symbolic chain—the expectation to surrender her surname—still lingers.


When society says, “After marriage, change your surname,” it is not merely asking for a new spelling.It is asking for an identity shift, implying her individuality is secondary and that she must now “belong” elsewhere.That idea is not only outdated—it is disrespectful.


Why should a woman be the only one asked to change?Has anyone ever asked a groom, “Will you change your surname after marriage?”No, because society sees his identity as fixed and hers as adjustable.This disparity reveals the stereotype clearly.


If a family truly believes in equality, why is the surname conversation always one-sided?Why cannot a man take his wife’s surname, or both keep their own, or children carry either, both, or a hyphenated version?


The truth is simple:If a demand is made of only one partner, it is not equality—it is gender bias.


A woman honouring her story

Keeping her surname is not rebellion, disrespect or “attitude”.It is a woman saying, “My identity matters. My story matters. My name matters.”She preserves the memories tied to it—her parents, her childhood, her achievements, struggles and growth.She reminds the world that a woman is defined not by marital status but by the life she builds with determination, compassion and dreams.A retained surname sends a clear message: a woman is not an object to be renamed but an individual to be respected.


Partnership, not a renaming ceremony

Marriage is meant to be two people walking together—not one person bending to adjust everything, from home to habits to surname.If marriage is built on love, trust and mutual respect, why should a woman’s name become a test of commitment? Why should giving up her surname be seen as proof of devotion?Love does not erase identity. Respect does not rewrite personal history. Partnership does not ask one person to shrink so the other may remain whole.A woman keeping her surname is not rejecting her partner—she is simply honouring herself.


Redefining the norm

Across the world, women now choose to keep their surnames—doctors, teachers, entrepreneurs, artists, writers, professors, homemakers, mothers, dreamers and doers. They show the next generation that identity is non-negotiable.They teach boys that marriage is not about controlling a woman’s choices.They normalise the idea that a woman can love her partner and also love the name she grew up with. And slowly, society is changing.


Because the real question is not, “Why is she keeping her surname?”It is: “Why was she ever asked to change it?”


The practice has no logical, emotional or ethical basis; it is simply a tradition repeated without thought.And every tradition must face one test: Does it respect human dignity? If not, it must evolve.


A woman keeping her surname after marriage is not rebellion—it is evolution, self-respect and equality in its simplest form.Her surname is a poem of her past; marriage is the journey she chooses for her future. Why should one erase the other?Let her write her life with her own name—the name she was born with, grew with and stands strong with.Her surname is her story, and no story should be renamed.


(The writer is a tutor based in Thane. Views personal.)


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