Sabarimalai Stories- Part II

...continued from the previous post.

We started the uphill trek at about 5.45 PM keeping in mind that we’d have to trek up 7.5 kilometers. It is amazing how crippled you become with several discomforting things on your back. Firstly, I was wearing dhoti on which I did not place any trust. It was as though it could slip at any moment and render me completely naked except for my faded red underwear. Secondly, I had no footwear- forget the trekking shoes, no footwear. And thirdly, the 5 kilogram Irumudi was always supposed to be on my head with my hand holding it. This literally meant I did not have one hand, no footwear and very less freedom to move my hips and legs fearing nakedness. If that’s not fragile enough to climb 7.5 kilometers, show me what is!

About a kilometer and a half later, when the twilight blue was fading, there was an unexpected power-cut. The little floodlights along the path turned off and there was complete darkness. I was suddenly able to see, distinctly, the mild fog that was passing us. It was an incredible phase, the next kilometer where I could hardly see anything ahead. Very few people had their phone’s torch light on. It was splendid to see a huge chuck of mankind trying to scale a hill with small lights. It reminded me how small we are compared to the brilliance of Mother Nature.

We passed the first landmark, Appachimedu. A little later, we reached Saranguthi where Mr. Kumar decided to furnish another story. He told me that according to mythology, a lady demon wanted to marry the God Ayyappa who had told the demon (or demoness, should I call?) that the day a Kannisaami (a first time visitor to the Sabarimalai) does not follow the Saranguthi ritual would be the day she could get married to him. I was startled instantly and turned around to Dad.

‘So the marriage is going to happen this time around?’ I asked.

‘What? Why?’ said Mr. Kumar, once again interrupting an attempted conversation.

‘Because I did not perform the Saranguthi ritual,’ I said. It was true. Dad was not really particular about it when we left the village of Pampa an hour ago and I did not care for it either. Mr. Kumar chuckled and walked forward. I was left wondering if I was the breakthrough that the poor lady demon needed to marry the man she so wanted to marry.

By the time we joined the queue outside the temple premises, it was about 7.30 PM. We understood that the queue’s waiting time was about 2.5 hours. This was to enter the first point of interest, the 18 golden stairs. Post the golden stairs, we had to endure another 4-5 hour queue before getting to meet Mr. God for a fraction of a second before being pushed by the crowd from behind. Due to a security lapse people just broke through a barrier and cut down our waiting time. Suddenly, we were about to traverse the 18 golden stairs. In a matter of minutes, we did that too.

Now, Mr. Kumar led us like he knew the way and got us into the protected area around the sanctum-sanctorum. As soon as we dodged past a security who was manning the gate, I understood that we had made a mistake. People were joining the queue around the sanctum-sanctorum whereas we were right next to it without any path to go in. There were little gates that could lead people towards the altar, but they were exit gates.

So in simple terms, we were stuck. We could not go in since it was an exit gate and even when we attempted to, we were pushed away wildly by the security. It was so disheartening to see even the old men and women including children being pushed around without any mercy. Men were possessed with demonic rage to catch the glimpse of the statue. I was saddened and stepped away, pulling Dad along. Mr. Kumar kept pushing in and made it through the exit gate and slipped into the sanctum-sanctorum. I told my Dad that I did not have to see this God by being so cruel to my fellow beings and that being human was far more important for me that being religious.

I was purely acting out of anger and Dad calmed me down. Instead, he suggested that we join the 4 hour queue and legitimately get a glimpse of the idol. I agreed and by the time Mr. Kumar joined us (after his Darshan) we tried to get out of the cordoned area. Incredibly, we could not. Neither could we see the idol of God, nor could we join the queue. Instead, we decided we’d just leave and went in search of a security guard to ask for directions. Thanks to Mr. Kumar's stupid antics, we decided to try the next morning. 

We approached the security personnel at a gate in the far end. Without a word being spoken, he opened a gate which he was guarding. All the three of us slipped past it assuming it was an exit gate. Instead, the path led us straight into the sanctum-sanctorum and right in front of the golden statue. It was the closest one can get to the idol at Sabarimala unless you are the priest. All it took was 20 seconds. It was just a miracle.

I kept searching for the idol until I found it right beneath my eye sight. It was incredibly small. I stood for a moment and smiled to myself. I had nothing to pray- I usually don’t have anything. Until we reached a little place for dinner, I was constantly wondering how magical it was. I was there, shouting at my Dad in rage that people were so inhuman and I would not push another man, woman or child to see this God and incredibly, all it took was just less than 60 seconds of literally no pushing, shoving, not even a queue. Was this the higher power playing?

Day 3:

So, after a miraculous meet with Mr. God, I was left calculating my total queue time. It was a paltry 1.5 hours compared to other people who waited for 6.5 hours. I was relived but all was not over. It was about 11 PM when we settled down, not in a hotel, not in a bed but on the floor, in a queue. Yes, we were all sleeping in a queue- laugh all you can. We were supposed to offer the ghee in the coconuts which was resting on our Irumudi. This pooja (ceremony) usually happens only in the morning and hence, we like thousands of others were sleeping in the queue lines the previous night.

After an incredible 5 hour wait from 3 AM to 8 AM, we finally got to the sanctum-sanctorum again, offered the ghee and collected some as prasadam. When I came out of the temple premises, all I said was, ‘oh good Lord. We made it.’ The trek down was not quite easy either, let me tell you. The lack of footwear did not help the cause either. My sole was so hurt and each and every stone I tromped on created more pain so much so that I began swearing at the stones.

We reached the river banks by about mid-day as I attempted in vain to wash my legs which had become quite blackish then. I promised myself I would give my foot good care once I’d get myself back to Chennai. After switching three buses, we made it to Tirunelveli just in time. We ran to Shanti sweets, one of the most famous dessert shops in Tirunvelveli and the World for its Halwa. We bought a few kilograms of it and picked up dinner from the famous, Central Café and rushed to the train. 5 minutes after we settled down, the train began moving.

Travellers generally look for experiences and this was unique and captivating. I learnt how people forget humanity for the sake of a statue, how idol Gods become far more important than living beings. It was also interesting to see how man always puts God in a place far away from reach. Man always needs to complete a challenge to tell himself that he then has the right to appeal to God. It is either starving for days together or performing costly, long and tedious rituals or as once it was, praying for years and decades together. If what the same God once said is true, isn't God every where and in every thing? If so, isn't he the closest to reach?