Imagine a quiet town cradled by the gentle curve of the Chandrabhaga River, its waters sparkling like a string of pearls under the morning sun. This is Pandharpur, a place where the air hums with soft chants of “Vitthal Vitthal,” and the scent of fresh tulsi leaves dances with the breeze. Narrow lanes, lined with simple mud homes, lead to the ancient Vitthal-Rukmini Mandir, where oil lamps flicker like tiny stars, casting a golden glow on the dark, smiling idol of Bhagwan Vitthal. Beside him stands Devi Rukmini, her sari shimmering like moonlight, her eyes full of love for every bhakt who comes to her. Pandharpur is no ordinary town—it is Bhu-Vaikuntha, the divine home of Bhagwan Vitthal, also called Vithoba, and Devi Rukmini. The Padma Purana sings its glory, calling it equal to Kashi, where a single dip in the Chandrabhaga’s cool waters washes away all sins, and a glimpse of Vitthal’s lotus feet fills the heart with bhakti.
Long, long ago, in the sacred land of Pandharpur, a beautiful story unfolded, one that brought Bhagwan Vitthal and Devi Rukmini to this holy soil forever. In the lush Dindirvan forest, where tamarind trees swayed and the river sang softly, Devi Rukmini once walked alone. Her heart felt heavy, touched by a small misunderstanding with her beloved Bhagwan Krishna. Her silken robes brushed the soft earth, and her lotus-like eyes shimmered with unshed tears, like dewdrops on a rose. The forest was alive—peacocks fluttered their vibrant feathers, and the Chandrabhaga’s ripples seemed to whisper her name. Bhagwan Krishna, his skin dark as a monsoon cloud, his peacock feather crown swaying gently, followed her with a heart full of love. The air grew warm with a divine fragrance, and the birds fell silent, as if waiting for their reunion.
When Bhagwan Krishna found Devi Rukmini, the moment was like a melody of bhakti. His flute was quiet, but his smile glowed like the full moon, and Devi Rukmini’s face lit up, her love for him stronger than ever. They stood together under a banyan tree, its leaves rustling like a soft hymn. Their love, pure and eternal, filled the forest with a golden light. Moved by this sacred bond, they decided to stay in Pandharpur forever, not in a faraway heaven, but here, where bhakts could touch their feet, offer them tulsi, and feel their love. The temple bells still sing of this moment, their sweet chimes calling bhakts to come, to see Bhagwan Vitthal and Devi Rukmini, who wait with open hearts.
A beautiful verse from the Skanda Purana captures this divine love:
Sanskrit Verse (Devanagari):
कृष्णः पाण्डुरङ्गे रुक्मिण्या सह संनादति।
भक्तानां हृदये चन्द्रभागायां सदा रमति॥
Poetic Translation:
Krishna in Pandharpur, with Rukmini, ever sings,
In bhakts’ hearts and Chandrabhaga, forever joy he brings.
Meaning: This verse describes Bhagwan Krishna, as Vitthal, residing in Pandharpur with Devi Rukmini, their divine presence echoing in the hearts of bhakts and along the sacred Chandrabhaga River. It portrays their eternal joy, inviting all to share in their love through bhakti.
But how did Bhagwan become Vitthal, standing on a brick with hands on hips? This is the heart-melting story of Bhakt Pundalik, a simple man whose love for his parents touched the divine. One day, in his humble hut by the Chandrabhaga, Pundalik was serving his aging mother and father, wiping their feet with care and feeding them with love. The air smelled of fresh earth and cooked rice, and the river’s gentle hum filled the silence. Suddenly, a divine light glowed at his door—Bhagwan Krishna stood there, his yellow pitambar shining, his tulsi garland swaying, his eyes sparkling with kindness. Pundalik, his heart full of duty, said, “O Bhagwan, please wait a moment. I must care for my parents first.” With love, he offered a simple brick for Bhagwan to stand on, promising to return soon.
Bhagwan Krishna, the king of the universe, smiled and stood on the brick, hands on his hips, patient and humble. The moment was magical—the breeze carried the scent of jasmine, and the river seemed to pause in reverence. When Pundalik returned, he fell at Bhagwan’s feet, tears of bhakti in his eyes. Bhagwan said, “Pundalik, your love for your parents is true bhakti. I will stay here forever as Vitthal, standing on this brick, for every bhakt who comes with a pure heart.” And so, Bhagwan became Vitthal, his name born from “Vit” (brick) and “Thal” (place) in Marathi, meaning the deity who stands for his bhakts. Some Hindi texts say “Vi” is knowledge and “Thoba” is form, showing Vitthal as the light of wisdom, open to all.
A Marathi abhanga by Sant Namdev sings of this moment:
Marathi Verse (Devanagari):
विठ्ठल विटेवरी उभा, भक्तांसाठी थांबला।
पुंडलिकाच्या भक्तीने, हृदयात कायम रंगला॥
Poetic Translation:
Vitthal on the brick stands tall, for bhakts he waits with grace,
Pundalik’s bhakti paints his heart, forever in its place.
Meaning: This abhanga praises Bhagwan Vitthal’s humble act of standing on a brick for Pundalik, showing his love for bhakts. It reflects how Pundalik’s pure bhakti brought Vitthal to Pandharpur, where he remains, coloring every heart with his divine presence.
The Chandrabhaga River, flowing like a mother’s lullaby around Pandharpur, holds this sacred history in its waters. Marathi stories call it the sister of Ganga, its waves cool and pure, washing away the heart’s heaviness. Bhakts wade into its waters at dawn, their hands folded, their voices chanting “Hari Vitthal.” The ghats, with stone steps smoothed by countless feet, glow with floating diyas, their tiny flames dancing like bhakti in the heart. The Padma Purana says a bath in the Chandrabhaga and a darshan of Vitthal’s smiling face lead to moksha, the soul’s freedom. The river’s gentle ripples seem to whisper, “Come, my child, let Vitthal’s love heal you.”
Pandharpur itself is a song of bhakti. Walk its streets, and you hear the soft jingle of ankle bells from women carrying tulsi pots. Smell the sweet prasad of laddoos offered at the temple, where bhakts sing abhangas, their voices rising like waves of love. Stand before Bhagwan Vitthal’s idol, his fish-shaped earrings glinting,raspberries, his hands on his hips, his dark form draped in silks. Devi Rukmini, in her shrine, glows like a star, her maternal smile welcoming all. Every bhakt, from a farmer in a simple dhoti to a child with wide eyes, feels at home here, for Vitthal and Rukmini are theirs—loving, kind, and close.
Picture this moment: the temple’s sanctum, warm with the glow of diyas, filled with the scent of sandalwood and the sound of a soulful bhajan. Bhakts stand with folded hands, their hearts swelling as they gaze at Vitthal’s lotus feet. A woman sways, singing an abhanga, her voice trembling with bhakti. A child offers a tiny tulsi leaf, and an old man weeps, feeling Vitthal’s love. This is the beauty of Pandharpur—a place where every heart finds its home, where bhakti flows like the Chandrabhaga, endless and pure.
This divine beginning, born from the love of Bhagwan Vitthal, Devi Rukmini, and Bhakt Pundalik, sowed the seeds of a great journey. From this sacred dawn, a pilgrimage grew, calling lakhs of bhakts to walk to Pandharpur, their hearts singing with bhakti. In the next chapter, we will travel through time, seeing how this holy town became the heart of the Pandharpur Wari, a grand celebration of love for Vitthal that unites millions.
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