The Peninsular Expedition: Day 12.1

The major stop-off-points on the way to the temple were covered with sheds, which meant that I managed to get to the place without considerable drenching. At about 3:30 to 4 AM, we arrived at the entrance to the temple complex. We had to deposit our sandals of course, since they weren’t allowed inside.

We then had to wait in yet another shed with lots of handrails arranged in a manner to represent a huge serpentine queue. Except that people weren’t standing in queue, they were sleeping in it – the temple gates weren’t to open for another 90 minutes. People had arrived to wait in line with lots of bedding and some snacks, and things were pretty quiet by the time we arrived. This is where I set down my irumudi with the others, whipped out my phone, fired up Nimbuzz and spent a while chatting with some friends. There really wasn’t much scope for sleep on the cold hard, and possibly dirty floor. A couple of wild hogs walked past, presumably in line to see the idol, but I don’t think the rest of the pilgrims appreciated their presence, and they were usually shooed off immediately.

After 90 minutes of waiting, during which time dad managed to find time to catch a few zzzs on the ground with his back propped up against one of the handrail supports, the shed filled with the voice of Yesudas, who is a very famous playback singer in Kerala. He’s also a very ardent worshiper of Lord Ayyappa, and he claims that his first child was a product of his tireless devotion to the god – which reminded me of what I read about the way Ayyappan entered world as well.

This music blasting through the complex, along with several large firecrackers, are intended to serve as a not-so-subtle wake-up call for all the dozing devotees. Some rubbed their eyes, bought chukku kaapi (dry ginger coffee with some peppers in it) which serves as a very good restorative. I had a cup myself: and it simply burnt its way through my esophagus.

Soon the line was shuffling along and we reached the first checkpoint on the way: a small pile of burning camphor into which we threw one piece each. Then after climbing a series of steep steps, we came upon the first proper landmark – the patthinettam padi, which literally translates into eighteen steps. Each of the steps is supposed to signify several divine concepts which I can’t be bothered to research into. Find them here if you are so inclined.

Oh, and before you climb those steps, it is imperative to smash another coconut against the wall. That brings the tally up to…

Vivek – 3
Coconuts – 0

The main shrine and the immediate structures surrounding it don’t resemble a temple, so much so as an assembly line in a factory. At peak hour, the pilgrims must simply shuffle along in a tight queue, which itself takes a long and circuitous route before ending near the opening of the sanctum sanctorum.

Of course, getting there is a matter of patience (it’s a long queue), gentle persistence (all the “swamis” want to have a looksies) and balance (there’s an irumudi on one’s head all this time). Once you do get there, you are not allowed to linger longer than 3.2 seconds, and a policeman will usher you along before you’re eyes have had time to accustom themselves to the darkness that can be seen through the open doors. The traditional hundi box for donations has long been replaced by (wait for it), a large hole in front of the idol which leads to a (I kid you not) moving conveyor belt. Apparently, the cash does flow thick and fast at Sabarimala.

Just after the queue ends, you will see a vast cross-section of devotees milling around. Me? I had to stop for a while to let 5 particularly devoted followers pass. Pass, in the sense that they were rolling around on the floor, circling the sanctum sanctorum. I can truly appreciate how devoted they were and how strongly they believed in religion, even if I didn’t. Being an open minded guy, I appreciated what they believed in, but more so, it was their levels of dedication that truly struck me.

Once out of the meleé, it’s time to head over to one of the rest areas, where the rest of the items in the irumudi are unpacked. All the ghee from the sealed coconuts is poured into a container and taken to one counter. Next, all the rice is taken in a bag and subsequently deposited. Then, all the other stuff is similarly packed and whisked away. This didn’t need 4 people, so I managed to catch 4.2 minutes worth of sleep while waiting for my dad and uncle to do the necessary counter-queuing and such.

Then began a small tour of the remaining minor shrines within the temple complex: at the Malikapuram Temple, a rather amusing offering involved rolling a coconut around the shrine before literally scoring a goal in a corner, where another pile of coconuts with a similar life story awaited. This is made somewhat challenging by the fact that there are legs to avoid. But a perfectly shaved coconut rolls very well on the slippery stone floor.

Oh and before stepping down back towards the queuing shed, there was yet another coconut to be smashed. This was the last one I had, which made the score stand at:

Vivek – 4
Coconuts – 0

There were a number of other places to pray, the details of which I won’t go into. Save one.

Right outside the main temple complex, right after the initial queuing shed, there is a small mosque dedicated to Vavaraswami who was a saint who was a devotee of Lord Ayyappan. It is considered blasphemous for a swami to visit Ayyappan’s shrine, but not stop to pay his/her respects to the Vavaraswami. This now rare show of communal harmony is, in my opinion, something that could and should serve as a model for the rest of the world. Not only is Sabarimala open to all members of all religions, there are no restrictions placed upon caste or creed either. The only restriction being that on women aged between 10 and 50 years. There are multiple legends associated with Vavar, and I won’t delve into them.

A spell of rain prompted the purchase of a bunch of plastic sheets to act as a shield against it. I have to say, dad and uncle did look rather comical in them.

On the whole, the trek down was much more fun than the trek down. Apart from the fact that gravity is on your side this time, it was about 7-8 AM by now, the sun was on its way up, and for once, I could properly see the steepness of the climb.

Yeah…it’s a wonder that no one fell, at least around me. I myself lost my footing once or twice, but luckily, the other foot came to the rescue immediately. Of course, this was nothing compared to, say, full on rock-climbing with a harness and all, but then again, these pilgrims weren’t exactly thrill seekers. Just everyday folk trying to find some meaning in their lives.

If anything, the wait for dad et al to catch up was even longer this time round, as a long trek up had impacted dad’s ability to use his legs properly, I guess. On the plus side, this did give me a lot of time to admire the scenery, and by Bob, what a view I caught…

It’s a view like this that got me thinking: if I were on a normal non-religious trek up a mountain, without the bustling crowds that Sabarimala attracted, and if the end result was the opportunity to catch a view like this – I’d be astonishingly stupid not to come back for more. But because this is Sabarimala, I’ll have to find another place, hopefully, someplace that will be equally satisfactory. I did not go to Sabarimala with any intention of religious or spiritual fulfillment. What I got instead was some exercise, fresh air and a reminder of life away from the cities that I’ve become accustomed to. I probably won’t be coming here again, but I’ll treasure this picture, because it’ll remind me of the experience like nothing else. Indeed, this was not different from the view I saw on most of the way back home. Endless rolling mountains and clouds.

The ride back home involved sleep. There hadn’t been any for a long time, and the trek did drain you of some energy, especially if you hadn’t had a square meal along the way. Homecoming was preceded by a short visit to the temple where we could take off our malas. Oh, and one last coconut was smashed.

Vivek – 5
Coconuts – 0

After lunch, I was scheduled to got my aunt’s place in Velavoor (which is where I’m writing this post from today), but decided I could afford myself a little nap. Hey, I had caught barely 5 minutes of sleep in the past 33 hours, so I was a bit tired. Unfortunately, that snooze turned into a 5 hour long siesta, and by the time I woke up, it was far too late to go to Velavoor. 5 missed calls from my uncle too…probably to ask if he should come pick me up yet. Ooh burn.

P.S. Read this too.