SANGLI

Once upon a time, along the winding banks of the Krishna River, a city began to take shape. It was born from six modest lanes, or saha galli, a name that over time softened in everyday speech, eventually becoming Sangli. This land holds a rich and layered history, dating back to the era of the Chalukya Samrajya, the powerful empire that reigned between the 6th and 12th centuries. In those days, the region was known as Kundal, a sparkling gem in the crown of the Chalukyas.

Centuries later, the great Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj seized control of Sangli and its surrounding lands from the Mughal Empire, weaving it into the fabric of the Maratha dominion. But Sangli's tale took a defining turn in 1801. A rift between Chintamanrao Patwardhan and his uncle Gangadharrao split Sangli from Miraj, transforming it into an independent entity. 

Long ago, the banks of the gently flowing Agrani River were lined with fragrant nutmeg trees. These trees, with their distinctive star-shaped fruits, filled the air with a sweet, lingering aroma that drifted through the village and beyond.

As the villagers went about their daily lives, the scent of nutmeg became a part of their world, infusing their homes, fields, and gatherings. Enchanted by this natural fragrance, they began to refer to their village as “Waiphale,” a name believed to be rooted in the Marathi words “Wad” (nutmeg) and “Phale” (fruit).

Over time, the nutmeg trees became more than just a feature of the landscape; they became a symbol of the village’s identity. The people of Waiphale tended to them with devotion, using the fruit in cooking, medicine, and rituals. The village soon gained a reputation for producing some of the finest nutmeg in the region, attracting traders and visitors eager to experience the rich aroma that gave Waiphale its name.

Few families have made a more permanent impression on Maharashtra's history than the Patwardhans of Sangli. The story they tell is one of staunch loyalty, military prowess, and political intrigue, all intertwined into the history of the ‘Maratha Samrajya' (empire).

The saga begins with Har Bhatt, a devoted Brahmin who caught the eye of Naro Mahadev, the chief of Ichalkaranji. Har Bhatt's sons, Govind and Ramcandra, soon found themselves in the service of the Peshwa, ruler of the Maratha kingdom. Under the Peshwa's guidance, the Patwardhans rose to power and prestige.

Among the most renowned Patwardhans was Parasuram Bhau, an exceptional military strategist and leader. He played a crucial role in the Marathas' victories over the formidable Haidar Ali and Tipu Sultan, earning the respect and admiration of his peers. Parasuram Bhau's courage and tactical acumen were tested time and again as he navigated the treacherous political landscape of the Maratha Empire.

The Patwardhans' loyalty to the Peshwa remained unshakeable, even in the face of internal power struggles and external threats. They stood by the Peshwa during his conflict with his uncle, Raghunathrao, and later protected the infant Peshwa, Madhavrao Narayan, from the machinations of the feared Nana Phadnavis.

However, the Patwardhans' journey was not without its trials. They frequently clashed with the Raja of Kolhapur, who had formed alliances with the Nizam of Hyderabad and Haidar Ali of Mysore. The Patwardhans' jagir, or feudal estate, was periodically attacked and ravaged, with Parasuram Bhau sustaining grave injuries during one such conflict.

Despite these setbacks, the Patwardhans remained steadfast in their commitment to the Maratha cause. They continued to play a significant role in the battles against the British, even as the Maratha kingdom began to wane. The Patwardhans' legacy endured as they transitioned from powerful jagirdars to rulers of small princely states such as Sangli, Miraj, and Tasgaon.

Tasgaon, a little village in Sangli district, was founded at the same time as the Patwardhans, a family of warriors and administrators, rose to prominence. The story begins in 1774, when Narayanrao Ballal Peshwa, the ruler of the Maratha state, placed the jagir (landlord/estate agent) of Tasgaon on Parasuram Bhau, a skilled military strategist and leader.

Parasuram Bhau, determined to get the most out of his new jagir, worked tirelessly to improve the property. He implemented novel farming techniques, and the once-arid soil began to produce a bountiful harvest of grapes, which quickly became Tasgaon's trademark. The village's good soil and favourable climate made it an ideal location for grape growing, and the Patwardhans' efforts were rewarded when Tasgaon's grape production increased dramatically.

As the years passed, Tasgaon's reputation as a grape-growing location grew, bringing traders and merchants from the rest of the country. The village's Kishmish (raisin) market, known for its high-quality grapes, became a major trade centre for these valuable fruits. The Patwardhans, proud of their accomplishment, continued to maintain and defend their jagir, keeping Tasgaon a vibrant agricultural centre.

Today, Tasgaon stands as a tribute to the Patwardhans' ideals and dedication. The village's grape cultivation continues to prosper, and its Kishmish market is still a popular destination for visitors looking for the best grapes in Maharashtra. The account of Tasgaon shows the enduring power of creativity, hard labour, and the Patwardhans' firm commitment to their jagir and the people they served.

An ancient Mandir with a fascinating story stands in the small town of Kargani, nestled in the heart of Atpadi taluka in Sangli district. Known as the Shri Ram Mandir, also referred to as Mahadev’s Mandir, it is believed to be over 1000 years old. While the Mandir’s origins date back centuries, its imposing shikhara and fortification were reconstructed in 1975, preserving its significance for generations to come.

According to local lore, Ram, Sita, and Lakshman once visited this sacred site during their exile. One day, while Lakshman was gathering samitha (sacred plants) for Ram’s rituals, he saw a divine weapon falling from the sky. Curious and unaware of its power, he picked it up and hurled it toward a nearby island called Vili. Tragically, the weapon struck a man and killed him instantly.

Lakshman was devastated by his unintended act and overcome with guilt. It was then that Bhagwaan Shiv (or Mahadev) appeared before him and revealed a deeper truth: the man he had killed was not an innocent sant but a disguised asur, none other than Shurpanakha’s son and the nephew of the demon king Ravan. The weapon Lakshman had used was no ordinary blade; it was a celestial sword known as Kalkhadak.

From this tale, the name Kalkhadak became associated with the surrounding area, which over time came to be known as Kargani. In that moment of revelation, Mahadev also revealed a Shivling to Lakshman, a divine sign of forgiveness and spiritual guidance. Today, the Kalkhadak sword is preserved in the Mandir, serving as a powerful reminder of divine intervention, the weight of dharma, and the transformation of a village steeped in legend and spiritual tradition.

In the quiet village of Vyankochiwadi, in the Sangli district, a peculiar tale has been whispered for generations. It centres around a mysterious object known as the Gonda, a sphere-like structure made of Wali strands that has long fascinated and frightened the villagers.

The story begins some 40-50 years ago with a poor farmer named Dhondiram. Struggling to feed his family, Dhondiram decided to take a desperate risk. On a moonless night, when the boundary between worlds was said to be thinnest, he ventured to the edge of the village.

There, in the darkness, Dhondiram waited with bated breath. When a ghostly pilgrim appeared, he seized his chance and snatched the Gonda from the spirit's grasp. With the cursed object in hand, Dhondiram ran home without stopping, his farmer's endurance pushed to its limits.

Upon his return, the villagers hailed Dhondiram as a hero. Soon after, his family's fortunes began to change. Their crops flourished, and his son secured a job with the Panchayat committee. The villagers whispered that the Gonda's dark power had brought this newfound prosperity.

Prince Krishnagar lived in a kingdom ruled by his father. One day, his stepmother falsely accused him of committing a crime. The king, believing his wife's accusations, commanded the kotwal (chief of police) to publicly cut off both the hands and legs of Krishnagar. The kotwal carried out this cruel punishment.

At that time, two great yogis, Guru Machendranath and Gorakshanath, were passing by the area. They learned about the foolish king who had believed his wife and mutilated an innocent boy. Moved by compassion, Machendranath used sanjeevani booti (a mythical herb with healing properties) to restore Krishnagar's life. With the king's permission, the guru took the prince with him.

Machendranath kept the boy in a cave and instructed him to chant a particular mantra to a sheli (goat) that lived there. He also asked the Devi Chamunda to secretly provide the prince with fruits and water.

After 12 years, Gorakshanath visited and found that Krishnagar had regained his limbs but was weak from his long confinement in the cave. Gorakshanath then taught Krishnagar yoga, helping him regain his health and strength.

Once fully recovered, Krishnagar returned to his village to confront his parents and teach them the consequences of their unjust actions. After that, instead of taking over the throne, he chose to take the path of a Nath Pant, following in the footsteps of Machendranath and Gorakhshanath. Because he was found at a chauraha (crossroad), Krishnagar was later known as Chauranginath.

Long ago in Kolhapur, there lived a king who desperately wanted a son to inherit his throne. Although he had six daughters, he was not satisfied. He warned his queen that if she didn't give birth to a son, she would face severe punishment.

When the queen had her seventh child, it was another girl. Fearing for her life, the queen and her maids came up with a plan. They told the king it was tradition to wait six months before seeing the newborn. During this time, they raised the girl as if she were a boy, teaching her fighting skills and other princely duties.

As the years went by, the princess, disguised as a prince, became a skilled warrior. When it was time for her to marry, she kept her true identity a secret to protect her mother from the king's anger.

Troubled by her secret, the princess went on a spiritual journey with her spouse. While meditating in a forest, she heard a mysterious voice chanting "Vitthal Vitthal Jai Hari Vitthal." This experience led her to seek blessings from the Maharaj before considering ending her life.

Surprisingly, Maharaj didn't judge her. Instead, he blessed her with a long life. Touched by this kindness, the princess revealed her true identity. Maharaj then blessed her to become "Nar Chi Nar" - a person beyond gender.

The next day, she transformed into a man. He returned to his wife, and they lived happily together, free from the burden of the secret.

In southern India, there flows a mighty river called Krishna. For centuries, it has been both a blessing and a curse to the people living near it. The river gives life, helping crops grow and providing water for daily needs. But sometimes, it also brings great danger.

In the small village of Borgaon in Valwa taluka, people lived peacefully along Krishna's banks. They knew the river could be unpredictable, but nothing prepared them for what happened in 2019.

One night, without warning, the river rose quickly and flooded the village. Houses were swallowed up by the rushing water. The villagers had to run for their lives, leaving behind their homes and most of their belongings. They found shelter in nearby villages and temporary camps. It was a sad and scary time for the people of Borgaon. But they didn't give up. Even though they had lost so much, they came together to rebuild their lives. Their neighbours from other villages came to help too, showing that kindness can shine even in the darkest times.

This wasn't the first time the Krishna River had caused such trouble. In fact, many villages in the Sangli district often face flooding problems because of the river. The biggest flood anyone could remember happened in 2009. It was so big that it overwhelmed the Srisailam Dam. Usually, the dam can handle about 20.2 lakh cusecs of water (cusecs is a way to measure how fast water is flowing). But during this flood, more than 25 lakh cusecs of water came rushing in.

The water in the dam rose to 896 ft., higher than ever before. The people in charge of the dam had a very hard time figuring out how to release all that extra water safely. They had to be careful not to cause problems for other dams downstream, like the Nagarjuna Sagar Project and the Prakasam Barrage.

Even though the Krishna River can be dangerous, the people who live near it are brave and resilient. The story of the Krishna River and its people is one of both struggle and hope, showing how communities can come together to face even the biggest challenges.

The story of Yayati, written by Vishnu Sakharam Khandekar, is a classic tale of lust and the futility of chasing sexual urges. The work is inspired by the Mahabharat's account of Yayati and delves into topics of morality, the fleeting nature of pleasure, and the catastrophic power of untamed desires.

Yayati, a famous scholar and aristocratic monarch, is married to the lovely Devyani and in love with her maid, Sharmishtha. Despite having five sons from two women, Yayati is dissatisfied and continues to seek his sexual pleasures, even going so far as to exchange his old age for his youngest son's youth.

The novel is renowned for its beautiful language and the way it connects Yayati's adventures with the key ladies in his life. The characters are well-developed and complicated, with everyone having their own motivations and aspirations. The story offers a striking commentary on the human condition, emphasising the risks of unbridled ambition and the value of self-reflection and introspection.

Yayati has received widespread recognition and numerous prizes, including the Sahitya Akademi Award and the Jnanpith Award. The novel has been translated into various languages and is still a popular and significant work in Indian literature.

माझ्या या अंगणी तुळशीबाईचं रोपं                                              

तिच्या या भेटीला नित्य गोविंदाची खेपं

माझ्या या अंगनी तुळशीबाईचा बंगला

प्रीतीचा पांडुरंग शिड्या लावूनी दंगला

तुळशीएवढी नारी नको जाऊस जंगलात

जागा देते मी अंगणात

तुळशीएवढी नारी नको हिंडुस वडं खोडं

जागा देते मी वाड्यापुढं

तुळशी नारी येते अर्धी-गिर्दी यर्ताची पानं

तोडा केलाया गोविंदान

सकाळीबिळाच्या पारी तुळशीकडंन माझी वाटं

तुळशीच्या कट्टयावर हरी वाचतो पाठं

सकाळीबिळाला मला सुकून बेस झाला

तुळशीच्या कट्ट्यावरी करंड कुंकुवाचा सापडला

माझ्या या अंगणी काही तुळस करंड

कुंकुवाचा हाती देते

लालपिंजरीचं कुंकू मेक एकलिकशी लिहू

तोंडधुतीया माझी जाऊ चला नंदला मानं  देऊ

लालपिंजरीचं कुंकू घेती पैशाला पैसा बरा

पाणी अंजान बाळ बाई राधा लेणारी अनिवार्य

लालपिंजरीचं कुंकू धडा घेऊ का पासरी

पाणी अंजान बाळ बाई राधा लेणारी सासरी

उगविलाया नारायण मेक उगमिता देखील

वर गुलाल फेकीला

उगविलाया नारायण मेक उगविता पाणी पडं

शिळ्या कुंकूवाला त्याचा नडं

उगविलाया नारायण लाल शेंदूबीराची पुडी

माझ्या या चुड्याला अवकं मागती वाडी-दिडी

उगविलाया नारायण आदी उगव माझ्या वाड्या

हळदी व कुंकुवाच्या मिका घालियी पायघड्या

उगविलाया नारायण आदी उगव माझ्या दारी

दुधा-तुपाची कर न्याहारी मग प्रीतम धुंड सारी

The poem "माझ्या या अंगणी तुळशीबाईचं रोपं" (A Tulsi Plant in My Courtyard) is a beautiful Marathi poem about love, longing, and life's passing nature. It honours Tulsi, an important figure in India who was known for her devotion towards Bhagwaan Krishna.

The poem starts by describing a garden where Tulsi's presence can be felt in the flowers and nature's sounds. It talks about how Tulsi's love for Krishna lasts forever, even after death. The poet then shares their own feelings for Tulsi, who has passed away but is still remembered in the garden.

The poem stands out for its use of imagery and symbolism. The garden stands for the poet's inner world, where Tulsi is still felt through flowers and sounds. The poet's love for Tulsi is shown through flowers, which are often used in Indian poetry. This poem is a lovely tribute to Tulsi's devotion to Krishna. It makes us think about how life is short, but love can last forever. The simple yet powerful words help readers connect with these deep ideas about love and spirituality.