YAVATMAL

The origin of the name Yavatmal is often attributed to the Sanskrit words ‘Yavat’, meaning “abundant” or “many” and ‘Mal’, which could refer to “hill” or “highland”, denoting the hilly terrain of the region and its richness in natural resources. With the passage of time and changes in languages and pronunciations, the name is said to have assumed its current form.

Yavatmal's history began with the Vakataka dynasty, known for their wisdom and just rule, and Yavatmal flourished under their reign. According to some sources, their royal court was located in the village of Bhandak, near modern-day Chandrapur, where the Vakataka emperors made key administrative decisions that shaped the future of their kingdom.

One of the notable Vakataka rulers was Vindhyasakti, known for his military strength and governance. His administration contributed to stability in the region, fostering economic and social growth.

After the Vakatakas, new rulers rose to power. The Chalukyas from the south expanded their influence over Yavatmal. Despite their brief reign, they left a lasting impression on the region and its people. Tales of their bravery and courage were passed down through the years, becoming part of Yavatmal's rich oral tradition.

The Rashtrakutas later rose to prominence, recognized for their patronage of the arts and architecture. Though few were built in Yavatmal during their rule, the people of Yavatmal persisted, their lives closely tied to the land and its ancient past.

In the latter half of the 11th Century, the Paramara Raja Vakpati II, also known as Munja, from Malwa extended his empire southward to the Godavari River, bringing Yavatmal under his administration.

As the 11th Century drew to a close, the Chalukyas regained control of Yavatmal. Their reign was marked by both conflicts and periods of calm and stability, a time of immense transition as old rituals and traditions gave way to new ones.

In the latter part of the 12th Century, the Yadavas of Deogiri sought to expand their territories to Yavatmal, seeking to annex the northern districts of the Chalukya kingdom. While it is uncertain whether they fully claimed Yavatmal, their influence shaped the region, particularly in the eastern regions.

The Gonds, indigenous to the forests and hills of Yavatmal, gained influence as the Chalukyas waned, coming to be known as ‘the true guardians of the land’. They sought to preserve Yavatmal’s natural terrains under their stewardship. They played a significant role in shaping the region’s governance and continued to maintain strong local control.

During the early 1930s, a wave of patriotism swept across Yavatmal, inspired by Mahatma Gandhi's call for freedom. The news of the Salt Satyagraha reached the district. Despite Yavatmal's distance from the sea, where the movement had begun, the spirit of resistance remained strong.

Loknaik Bapuji Ane, a respected leader in the region, recognized that Yavatmal's role in the independence struggle could not be limited by geography. He devised a strategy to start the Jungle Satyagraha, a bold attempt to protest British control by breaking forest restrictions. Yavatmal's vast forests, which had once provided a source of income, now became the battleground for their fight for freedom. Under Bapuji Ane's leadership, Yavatmal's youth ventured into the forests to collect firewood and other supplies, disregarding British regulations. This act of defiance did not go unnoticed. The British authorities, determined to crush the spirit of resistance, resorted to harsh measures. However, the people of Yavatmal remained steadfast.

One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, British officers attacked a group of teenage rebels. Armed only with determination and a few tools, the young men and women confronted the well-equipped soldiers with unwavering resolve. They raised the tricolour, their voices echoing with clear and forceful chants of independence.

"Do you think you can force us into submission?" they demanded. "This land is our mother, and we shall not bow to your tyranny!"

The authorities, taken aback by the teenage rebels' bravery, turned to brute force. Many people were arrested and sentenced to prison. Despite the harsh conditions of their confinement, the teenage rebels' spirit remained unbroken. They sang songs of independence, chanted poems of resistance, and shared stories about India's beautiful past and bright future. Months passed, yet the Jungle Satyagraha continued to inspire the people of Yavatmal. The movement resulted in 312 people from the district receiving sentences ranging from one week to one and a half years in prison.

This is a story as recited by a young man working in Yavatmal.

“During the summer of 2022, I worked as a sales professional for Hyundai Cars. The job profile often required me to travel to different locations, and this time I found myself in Yavatmal, with a few of my colleagues. We were attending a service camp, and our days were filled with work, laughter, and companionship.

One evening, after we finished our job, some of my coworkers proposed that we go to Mahur, a place recognised for its scenic beauty and historical significance around 90 km from Yavatmal. We hastily packed our belongings and set out in our beloved Santro, excited about the unexpected excursion. We hit the road around 7:00 pm, with the sky rapidly darkening.

The journey began with great spirits - singing songs, cracking jokes, and telling stories. However, as the night progressed, our chats became increasingly spooky. Ghost stories and tales of the paranormal filled the car, sending shivers down our spines despite the warm summer weather.

We were so engrossed in these frightening stories that we didn't realise we had wandered from our original course to Mahur. The road narrowed and became darker, with no signs of civilization in sight. Suddenly, we found ourselves at a solitary railway crossing.  We continued driving and soon arrived at a small, seemingly uninhabited village. One of my coworkers assured us that we were close to Mahur and that it would only take another fifteen minutes. But the anxiety in the air was apparent, so we asked a local for directions.

To our surprise, the villager informed us that we were 120 km from Mahur and had taken an entirely incorrect path. We turned back towards the hamlet, confused and anxious, only to cross the same railway tracks again. This time, a sense of fear swept over us. We hadn't travelled the same path, but here we were, at the same crossing. An eerie silence settled over the vehicle. The temperature dropped rapidly, and we all had a strange sense of suffocation. It felt as if an invisible force had taken control of the vehicle, bearing down on our chests and making it difficult to breathe. No one talked; terror had silenced us.

For the next fifteen to twenty minutes, we travelled in silence until emerging onto the highway. The relief was immediate; the crushing hold relaxed, allowing us to breathe freely again. We stopped at a nearby dhaba with tense nerves and beating hearts.

As we described our horrific incident to the dhaba owner, his demeanour darkened. He informed us that there were no railway crossings along the path we had gone. He had lived in the neighbourhood all his life and was assured of it. Our disbelief turned to fear as he revealed the area's grim past.

Years ago, a band of merciless thieves robbed and murdered a family travelling along the same path. The robbers strangled the family with rags, causing them to die from suffocation. The bodies were eventually disposed of in an ice factory nearby. Since then, travellers have described feeling cold and suffocating, as if the family's souls were reaching out to them.

We were shaken to our core and decided to abandon our journey to Mahur in favour of returning to Yavatmal via an alternate route. The terrifying encounter made an unforgettable impression on our thoughts. Even today, the memory of that night, the ghostly railway crossing, and the stifling grip of unseen forces sends shivers down my spine.”

A Rani, whose name has been lost to history, was a master of her art: stitching. It is believed that as she stitched, she would weave spells into the threads, which would add a deeper meaning within it. The Rani’s needlework was more than just decoration; it was a protection against the hardships of the Banjaras’ nomadic lifestyle, as they wore her needlework. The detailed designs were believed to be able to ward off malicious spirits, make certain that crops grew well, and bring good luck to whoever wore them.

As the Banjara people moved from place to place, the queen's enchanted embroidery became a sign of their identity, a visual embodiment of the stories and customs passed down through centuries. The patterns were symbolic and told tales about themselves being Banjara and also how they are related to land they live on.