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A form of Vishnuism, possessing a special local flavour, is connected with the Maratha country and with the names of Nâmdev, Tukârâm[639] and Râmdâs, the spiritual preceptor of Śivaji. The centre of this worship is the town of Pandharpur and I have not found it described as a branch of any of the four Vishnuite Churches: but the facts that Nâmdev wrote in Hindi as well as in Marathi, that many of his hymns are included in the Granth, and that his sentiments show affinities to the teaching of Nânak, suggest that he belonged to the school of Râmânand. There is however a difficulty about his date. Native tradition gives 1270 as the year of his birth but the language of his poems both in Marathi and Hindi is said to be too modern for this period and to indicate that he lived about 1400,[640] when he might easily have felt the influence of Râmânand, for he travelled in the north.
Most of his poetry however has for its centre the temple of Pandharpur where was worshipped a deity called Viṭṭhala, Viṭṭoba or Pâṇḍurang. It is said that the first two names are dialectic variations of Vishṇu, but that Pâṇḍurang is an epithet of Śiva.[641] There is no doubt that the deity of Pandharpur has for many centuries been identified with Kṛishṇa, who, as in Bengal, is god the lover of the soul. But the hymns of the Marathas are less sensuous and Kṛishṇa is coupled not with his mistress Râdhâ, but with his wife Rukmiṇî. In fact Rukmiṇîpati or husband of Rukmiṇî is one of his commonest titles. Nâmdev's opinions varied at different times and perhaps in different moods: like most religious poets he cannot be judged by logic or theology. Sometimes he inveighs against idolatry—understood as an attempt to limit God to an image—but in other verses he sings the praises of Pâṇḍurang, the local deity, as the lord and creator of all. His great message is that God—by whatever name he is called—is everywhere and accessible to all, accessible without ceremonial or philosophy. "Vows, fasts and austerities are not needful, nor need you go on pilgrimage. Be watchful in your heart and always sing the name of Hari. Yoga, sacrifices and renunciation are not needful. Love the feet of Hari. Neither need you contemplate the absolute. Hold fast to the love of Hari's name. Says Nâmâ, be steadfast in singing the name and then Hari will appear to you."[642]
Tukârâm is better known than Nâmdev and his poetry which was part of the intellectual awakening that accompanied the rise of the Maratha power is still a living force wherever Marathi is spoken. He lived from 1607 to 1649 and was born in a family of merchants near Poona. But he was too generous to succeed in trade and a famine, in which one of his two wives died, brought him to poverty. Thenceforth he devoted himself to praying and preaching. He developed a great aptitude for composing rhyming songs in irregular metre,[643] and like Caitanya he held services consisting of discourses interspersed with such songs, prepared or extempore. In spite of persecution by the Brahmans, these meetings became very popular and were even attended by the great Śivaji.
His creed is the same as that of Nâmdev and finds expression in verses such as these. "This thy nature is beyond the grasp of mind or words, and therefore I have made love a measure. I measure the Endless by the measure of love: he is not to be truly measured otherwise. Thou art not to be found by Yoga, sacrifice, fasting, bodily exertions or knowledge. O Keśava, accept the service which we render."
But if he had no use for asceticism he also feared the passions. "The Endless is beyond; between him and me are the lofty mountains of desire and anger. I cannot ascend them and find no pass." In poems which are apparently later, his tone is more peaceful. He speaks much of the death of self, of purity of heart, and of self-dedication to God. "Dedicate all you do to God and have done with it: Tukâ says, do not ask me again and again: nothing else is to be taught but this."
Maratha critics have discussed whether Tukârâm followed the monistic philosophy of Śaṅkara or not and it must be confessed that his utterances are contradictory. But the gist of the matter is that he disliked not so much monism as philosophy. Hence he says "For me there is no use in the Advaita. Sweet to me is the service of thy feet. The relation between God and his devotee is a source of high joy. Make me feel this, keeping me distinct from thee." But he can also say almost in the language of the Upanishads. "When salt is dissolved in water, what remains distinct? I have thus become one in joy with thee and have lost myself in thee. When fire and camphor are brought together, is there any black remnant? Tukâ says, thou and I were one light."