Three singers from Nimgaon Ketki village in Pune district sing songs of affection for a brother as they carry out the everyday task of grinding

“The jeep looks nice with my brother Jitendra at the wheel,” sing the women in Nimgaon Ketki. The worth of the jeep swells when the brother drives it; such is his distinction. Jitendra – the brother named in the ovi – is Jitendra Maid, the young researcher from the original GSP team, who was in the village at the time to record these grindmill songs.

Coaxed to adapt to the immediate setting, the songs in this set of 15 ovi have been contributed by Phula Bhong, Chandrabhaga Bhong and Bhagu Mohite from Nimgaon Ketki’s Chinchwadi hamlet in Indapur taluka . They express pride in a brother’s success – in this case, addressing Jitendra as the wealthy yet humble brother.

Each woman would lend words to the other as they sang these songs for the GSP team in 1995. Jitendra too would encourage them when they struggled to recall the words of these songs they had learnt from older women. With this, an affectionate collaboration was forged. The singers allowed the researcher an insight into their world, welcoming him into its fold.

The brother’s visit to his sister’s home is described in the first two couplets. The sister remarks:

The one who rides in a jeep came to my house walking
My brother Jitendra is rich, yet does not put on airs

She looks on with pride as the brother deftly manoeuvres his vehicle on a crooked road. Though he drives a jeep – a sign of wealth and mobility – he walks up to the sister’s house to visit her. She appreciates this gesture of casting aside fanfare.

The brother in these ovi is depicted as a man of character – discerning and virtuous, and worth more than the wealth he has amassed. The singers narrate an incident when two sisters are on their way to visit her brother; one of them locks eyes with a stranger. Smitten by the stranger, whose “gaze is special”, she is ready to forsake her world and its charms for him. But the brother advises her to be wary. “Take care of your reputation,” brother Jitendra says. The brother’s warning is seen as a sign of his affection.

PHOTO • Antara Raman

Spending on pearls to adorn her precious brother, a doting sister's affection is evident in these songs

The affection is also illustrated in the couplets through food. Even though her kitchen fire is out, the sister begins to light it again to cook a meal for her brother. His favourite meal is prepared as the siblings chat:

As a mark of hospitality, I cook pulses and onion for elder brother
How much can I tell you, brother, let’s make bundi laddoo

Bundi laddoos, the tiny balls of gram flour fried in a sieve, are dipped generously in sugar syrup.

In the couplets that follow, the sister sings about receiving the news of her younger brother’s marriage. “My young brother will become a bridegroom in the month of Vaishakh [April-May],” she says. She strings pearls together to make mundavalya, an ornament tied on a groom’s forehead during his wedding ceremony, keeping it safe on a bed of cotton. Spending on pearls to adorn her precious brother, the affection of a doting sister is evident.

The last two couplets, sung by Bhagubai Mohite, reveal an array of emotions the sister feels for her natal home. While she is proud of her brother’s wealth and success, there is an undertone of envy too. She sings of how her brothers’ wives “reign” over their husband’s prosperity and reputation. Possessive and a little jealous, the sister turns back to her task of grinding flour. Revealing the nature of attachment in familial relationships, these couplets express the everyday conflicts that exist alongside the love and affection.

The singer has finished grinding enough flour for the day, she says, feeling “complete satisfaction”. In her winnow is a betel box, suggesting she will relax now and enjoy a betel nut. As if remembering suddenly, the singer tells us that her husband is precious too – a naulakha – worth nine lakh rupees.

In between the singing, Jitendra Maid and the singers banter. Jitendra invites them to his wedding, whenever that might happen. “We will sing wedding songs when you get married,” the singers remark amidst laughter. Then quickly add, “But you will have to come and fetch us, we don’t know where you live.”

Listen to Phula Bhong, Chandrabhaga Bhong and Bhagu Mohite sing the ovi

असा जिपड्याचा बसणार, माझ्या घराला आला पायी
असा जितेंद्र बंधवाला, शीरीमंताला गर्व नाही

अशी वाकडी तिकयाडी, वाट बंगल्यावरी जाती
अशी जितेंद्र बंधवाला, हाती जीप या सोभा देती

असं वाटंच्या वाटसरा, तुझी नदर न्यारी न्यारी
अरे तुझ्या या जिवासाठी, वाट सोडून दिली सारी

असा जितेंद्र बंधु बोलं, संबळ आपल्या नावायाला
आज आम्ही ना दोघी बहिणी, येतुया तुझ्या या गावाला

असं बंधुला भोजयान, चूल माझिया थंडगार
असा जितेंद्र बंधुराया, आला बुंदीचा जेवणार

असा पाव्हण्याला पाव्हणचार, अन् मी करिते डाळकांदा
किती सांगू रे बंधु तुला, कळी पाडूनी लाडू बांधा

असा पाव्हण्याला पाव्हणचार, पाठकऱ्याला चहा बी पाणी
अगं बोलतो बंधु मला, पड चिमणी, ने जा पाणी

अगं सकाळीच्या पारी, माझी नजर कशीबशी
किती सांगू रे बाळा तुला, कुठं गेलिया कपबशी

अगं सकाळीच्या पारी, माझी नजर कशीबशी
किती सांगू रे शिवराजा, आहे रं जाग्याला कपबशी

तुझा माझा या भाऊपणा, भाऊपण्याची चितरायी
किती सांगू रे बंधु तुला, टाक संतरंजी हाथरायी

अगं  बंधुचं लगियान, मला कळालं बाजारात
अगं मोतियाच्या मंडवळ्या, घेते जरीच्या पदरात

अगं बंधुचं लगियान, मला कळालं सासयारी
अगं मोत्याच्या मंडवळ्या, आन् मी वविते वसयारी

अगं मोत्याच्या मंडवळ्या, आन् मी ठेविते कापसात
अगं नेनंता माझा बंधु, नवरा व्हायाचा वैशागात


असं सरलं दळयीण, नाही सरल्या बारा ओव्या
असं बंधुच्या जिवावरी, राज्य करिती भाऊजया

असं सरलं दळयीण, माझ्या सुपात पानपुडा
असं वं सांगते सया तुला, नवलाखाचा माझा चुडा

asā jīpaḍyācā basaṇāra mājhyā gharalā ālā pāyī
jitēndra bandhavālā śīrīmantālā garva nāhī

aśī vākaḍī tikayaḍī vāṭa baṅgalyāvarī jātī
jītēndra bandhavālā hātī jīpayā sōbhā dētī

asa vāṭacyā vāṭasarā tujhī nadara nyārī nyārī
arē tujhyā yā jīvāsāṭhī vāṭa sōḍūna dilī sārī

asā jitēndra bandhu bōla sambaḷa āpulyā nāvāyalā
āja āmhīnā dōghī bahīṇī yētuyā tujhyā gāvālā

asa bandhulā bhōjāyāna cula mājhīyā thaṇḍagāra
jitēndra bandhurāyā ālā bundīcā jēvaṇāra

asā pāhuṇyālā pāhuṇacāra ana mī karītē ḍāḷakāndā
kitī sāṅgū rē bandhu tulā kaḷī pāḍūnī lāḍū bāndhā

asa pāhuṇyālā pāhuṇacāra pāṭhakaṟyālā cahā pāṇī
aga bōlatō bandhu malā paḍa cimaṇī nē jā pāṇī

aga sakāḷīcyā pāyī mājhī najara kaśībaśī
kitī sāṅgū rē bāḷā tulā kuṭhē gēlī rē kapabaśī

aga sakāḷīcyā pāyī mājhī najara kaśībaśī
kitī sāṅgū rē śivarājā āhē jāgyālā kapabaśī

tujhā mājhā bhāvupaṇā bhāvupaṇāyācī cītarāī
kitī sāṅgu rē bandhu tulā ṭāka santarañjī hātharāī

aga bandhuyīca lagayīna malā kaḷāla bājārāta
āgī mōtīyācyā maṇḍavaḷyā ghētī jarīcyā padarāta

bandhuca lagayāna malā kaḷāla sāsayarī
agī mōtyācyā maṇḍavaḷyā mī vavītē āna vasayarī

aga mōtyācyā maṇḍavaḷyā āna mī ṭhēvītē kāpasāta
aga nēnantā mājhā bandhu navarā vhāyācā vaiśāgāta

sarala daḷayīṇa nāhī saralyā bārā ōvyā
bandhucyā jivāvarī rājī karītī bhāūjayā

sarala daḷaṇa mājhyā supāta pānapuḍā
navalākhācā mājhā cuḍā


The one who rides in a jeep, came to my house walking
My brother Jitendra is rich, yet does not put on airs

This crooked road goes to the bungalow
The jeep looks nice with my brother Jitendra at the wheel

Traveller on the road, your gaze is special
For your sake, I have left everything

My brother Jitendra says, take care of your reputation
Today, we, both the sisters, are coming to your village

Brother has come for a meal, my hearth is cold
Jitendra, my brother, likes bundi [gram flour sweet balls]

As a mark of hospitality, I cook pulses and onion for elder brother
How much can I tell you, brother, let’s make bundi laddoo

As a mark of hospitality, I offer water and tea
My brother tells me to take away the water

It is early in the morning and my eyes are blurry
I ask you my son, where’s the cup and saucer

It is early in the morning and my eyes are blurry
I’m telling you, Shivaraja, the cup and saucer is in its place

We are brother and sister, and we have affection for each other
How much can I tell you, brother, spread a mat on the floor

I came to know about my brother’s marriage, in the bazaar
I buy pearl mundavalya and wrap them in the brocade-end of the sari

I came to know about my brother’s marriage in my in-laws’ house
I string pearl mundavalya for him, sitting in the veranda

Pearl mundavalya , I keep them in cotton wool
My young brother will become a bridegroom in the month of Vaishakh

The grinding is over, it gives me complete satisfaction
Sisters-in-law are reigning on the reputation of my brothers

My grinding is over, there’s a betel-leaf box in my winnow
I tell you, my friend, my husband is worth nine lakh [rupees]



PHOTO • Hema Rairkar

Phulabai Bhong

Performer/Singer: Phulabai Bhong and Chandrabhaga Bhong

Village: Nimgaon Ketki

Hamlet: Chinchwadi

Taluka: Indapur

District: Pune

Caste: Phulmali (gardener)


Performer/Singer: Bhagubai Mohite

Village: Nimgaon Ketki

Hamlet: Bhong vasti

Taluka: Indapur

District: Pune

Caste: Maratha

Date: The information, photograph and songs here were recorded on December 11, 1995.


Poster: Urja

Read about the original Grindmill Songs Project founded by Hema Rairkar and Guy Poitevin.

Namita Waikar is a writer, translator and Managing Editor at the People's Archive of Rural India. She is the author of the novel 'The Long March', published in 2018.

Other stories by Namita Waikar
PARI GSP Team

PARI Grindmill Songs Project Team: Asha Ogale (translation); Bernard Bel (digitisation, database design, development and maintenance); Jitendra Maid (transcription, translation assistance); Namita Waikar (project lead and curation); Rajani Khaladkar (data entry).

Other stories by PARI GSP Team
Illustration : Antara Raman

Antara Raman is an illustrator and website designer with an interest in social processes and mythological imagery. A graduate of the Srishti Institute of Art, Design and Technology, Bengaluru, she believes that the world of storytelling and illustration are symbiotic.

Other stories by Antara Raman
Editor : Dipanjali Singh

Dipanjali Singh is an Assistant Editor at the People's Archive of Rural India. She also researches and curates documents for the PARI Library.

Other stories by Dipanjali Singh