The year was 1290 . A crowd had gathered around a clearing, where broken down pillars marked the presence of an ancient temple, now long gone. A young boy, just 14 years old, leaned against one of those pillars, deep in thought. Then, he began speaking, and the crowd fell silent, listening to his every word. He spoke without any notes, translating the Bhagavat Gita, from Sanskrit, which only the pundits knew, to the language everyone in the village knew and spoke – a variety of Prakrit which developed into the Marathi language. Even as he spoke, one of the men in the audience realized how momentous this event was, and how important this composition would be. He began writing down the words the young boy spoke, and this composition was named by its author and composer, the Bhavartha Deepika – the enlightening meaning (of the Bhagavat Gita). Now, the ancient, holy text, was no longer restricted to the pundits, but accessible to all, understood easily by them, composed as it was, in their...
It is a city which is so deeply rooted in legends that it is impossible to separate the city from its stories – and the temples related to the stories. The minute we step into the city, we are besieged by it. We haven’t even found a hotel to stay in, but our auto driver wants to know if we want him to take us to the temples. “We have been here before” we tell him, and he answers, “But still, you will want to visit the temples. Why else would you come here again?” Our status as tourists and temple visitors seems to be obvious to him, so eventually we relent, telling him that yes, we do want to visit the temples, but we want to freshen up first. We take the mobile number proffered and heave a sigh of relief when he leaves. We are at Nashik, one of the holiest cities in Maharashtra, and also among the oldest.