Kabir Malwa Yatra

And so we came together, us rag tag bunch of motley travellers for the Kabir Malwa Yatra in Madhya Pradesh this March. Through 9 days and 7 places we were witness to something few people have witnessed – a pure honesty and a genuine love all through the words of Kabir and the songs sung by musicians from 6 different states, urban and rural, masters and disciples, Kabir illiterates and Kabirophiles, the converted and the being converted. Sleeping on cow sheds or dormitories, when we slept at all, staying awake for performaces that wound up at 3 or 4 in the morning and then crawling into the bus at 8am after a belted breakfast we motored on with smiles and songs.

ON THE BUS

Through fields, tea stops, naps and conversations our bus of pink rumbled through the roads of central Madhya Pradesh, at India’s heart. But it was the music that made the sometimes long, mostly hot journeys the highlight of our trip. As Mura Lala Kaka and Parbat Jogi, Mukhtiyar bhai and Narayanji, Shabnam and our Kabir rockers, Manzil performed song after song, forgetting their cramped surroundings the unforgiving drone of the engine, the terrible shock absorbers and the stiff seats. As they sang they helped therest of us forget all those things as well. It was a real journey through the heart of Kabir on our pink bus.

LUNIYAKHEDI SHUBH YATRA

It’s difficult to think of this trip without the smiling face of Prahlad Sinh Tipaniya. At times it seems he was everywhere at once, a gracious host, a performer singing on stage, as a master of ceremonies having Indore’s few hundred or Rupakhedi’s 20,000 enraptured by his every word. In Luniyakhedi he is so much more. For the last few years he has thrown open the gates of his ashram to 1000s of people, giving them blankets and matresses, a shamiyana to keep them sheltered and food thrice a day. All for free. When asked what drives them to leave fields and farms, squash an entire village into a TATA sumo and travel so far, almost every voice has the same answer, “hum prahladji ke liye aaye hain.” Something that would’ve surely swollen most of our heads. But Prahladji just shrugs it all off like a heavy coat. During this year’s Yatra he travelled and worked harder than all of us, riding or driving up and down from Luniyakhedi from wherever we were, covering two three four times the distance we had in the wee hours when all the rest of us could think about was sleep. All so he wouldn’t miss a single class with the students he teaches in the local school. Although we went through many yatras on our trip, some touching, others plain misguided, the Luniyakhedi Shubh Yatra, meant to stir up publicity for the show and share the wisdom of Kabir, always reminds of me Prahladji finding his way home every single night.
PEOPLE OF MALWA

Women to the right, men to the left. With a rope in between. Turbans and white on the left, colours and patterns on the right. The people of Malwa came from all corners, weather worn faces further wrinkled by knowing smiles as the timeless wordly philosophy of Kabir rang like music to their ears. And then they would dance, widows in white, men in the throes of glee, shy young ladies all doing that wonderfully wistful and gentle sway to the powerful voices emitted from the stage. The people of Malwa were the energy that stoked the flame of the Kabir Yatra.

LIVE IN CONCERT

with so much happening off stage, one would be forgiven for being satisfied and not asking for more. But my musical greed knows no bounds. I wanted to be knocked off my socks by the performances. And I was. Moora Lala Marwada inspiring an outbreak of joyfull dancing bang in the middle of a city signal in Ujjain or Shabnam Virmani bewitching the urban milieu in Indore, Mukhtiyar Ali using humour and song to difuse a volatile situation in Bagli Chowk, where a bunch of drunk digniteries were in danger of marring a trip filled with hospitality and happiness and Prahladji holding it all together, the common thread in a diverse group of performers. On stage was where the Malwa Yatra was at its glimmering best. Just ask the 20,000 people who came to the show in Rupakhedi, pretty much in the middle of nowhere.

I remember the deafening silence I felt when I left the Yatra, like a child who loses his family at the mela. Until the memories started flooding back, all those interactions, all those people, all that love and all that Kabir. A journey unsurpassed in my limited life. An experience unmatched and a joy unbridled. I realise that I am truly blessed. To have been the eye that saw all of this.

Tags: Indian Folk music, Kabir Malwa Yatra, Madhya Pradesh, Mir Mukhtiyar Ali, Mooralala Marwada, Prahlad Tipaniya, Shabnam Virmani, The Kabir Project, traveling folk music festival