travel, sustainability and advocacy

In my last post, I had talked about my daring journey to Kumbakonam. Now, on to the Kavadi.

Kavadi, in Tamil, translates to burden. The ceremony is undertaken by devotees of Murugan - Lord of War. By carrying this burden, they gain favor from Murugan and are able to cleanse themselves. My Catholic friends get off the hook easy (no pun intended) compared to these devotees. There is no caring priest in these confession booths; only hooks, skewers and peacock feathers await. Oh, the peacock is Murugan’s stead, that’s why the peacock feathers - it’s not meant to tickle torture the already agonized devotees.

The Kavadi though, ranges widely. The burden can be as simple as a pot of milk carried on the head or, more commonly, a semi-circular canopy held in place by a wooden rod which is carried on the shoulder. Most devotees go barefoot, but a lucky few get to wear some rather uncomfortable shoes with rusty nails whom you see hobbling along behind the crowd. At the extreme end, you have devotees like the one in the picture. What you’re seeing is this man pulling the Kavadi (God knows how heavy it is!) with ropes secured to his body using metal hooks. Beside him, you see another brightly colored devotee using oranges as the burden. The Kavadi is always some form of offerring to Murugan. When they complete their journey to the temple, the Kavadi is offered to Murugan and in return they get their blessings.

What’s interesting is that this ceremony is not just popular in India, its huge in Malaysia and Singapore due to the large population of ethnic Indians. When I was in Singapore once, I even saw an ethnic Chinese getting into the action and carry the hardcore version of the Kavadi - piercings, skewers and all!

I also found a blog about some adventurous folks down in Argentina and Uruguay who decided give the Kavadi a try. It’s quite amazing how a people so distant geographically and culturally can connect with one another in a completely different plane of ideology. Kudos to my friends in Latin America!

So anyway, now that we have an idea of what the Kavadi is, my journey to Swamimalai in Kumbakonam resumes. I spent the night at a surprisingly decent hotel called Alagu Swamimalai (beautiful God’s mountain). The waiters there, however, were a couple of rather forgetful locals who reminded me of Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Their service was lacking, but it was tremendously entertaining watching them bungle up every task.

In the morning, the men-folk dressed in traditional veshtis and the ladies in their dazzling Kanchipuram saris. We then set off, barefoot of course, to Swamimalai. We did not indulge in any Kavadis with sharp protrusions. The plain old semi-circular canopy kind was what we used. When we got to the foot of the “mountain” it was a bit of a disappointment. It was no mountain at all - it was barely even a hill! However, it was quite amazing how the entire temple had been draped over the hill so immaculately that they appeared to be as one.

We made our way up the temple - 60 steps at a time. The Tamil calendar has 60 years per cycle, hence the significance of 60 steps; each one is named after a Tamil year. At the top, preparations were being made for milk and yogurt abhishekams (sacred bathing). We gave our offerings to the priest to include in the ritual. People around me were discussing how another temple’s idol was getting eroded by too many abhishekams being performed on the deity. Back in the old day, this ritual used to be performed rarely, but now, with greater affluence, everyone want’s to do it, and its taking a toll on these centuries old statues.

With the abhishekam performed, our journey was complete. It was time to head back to Chennai. Ah, I just remembered, our master fuse is busted, which means no air conditioning on the way back. Oh Lord!

Every country’s got its fair share of bizarre traditions ranging from the humorous to the outlandish. I recently made my way back to our ancestral village in India to witness the Kavadi.

Kumbakonam, located in the southern-Indian state of Tamil Nadu, is considered sacred, with over 40 temples in and around it. It is also referred to as the “Cambridge of South India,” hosting some prestigious colleges renowned for producing great minds like Ramanujam and Swaminatha Iyer. Legend also has it that here is where Shiva cracked the Cosmic Pot containing the essence of creation, giving birth to life, the universe and everything.

How I managed to get here in one piece is even more miraculous than the origin of life. You see, on our way to Kumbakonam from Chennai, our Tempo Traveler (a big, clunky van) blew a fuse, not just any fuse - the master fuse! Which basically meant that all our electrical systems went dead, including our headlights. But wait! Our driver had an ingenious idea.

“Saar, I can drive with the signals on.”

Huh, what the… ? “Oh, you mean the hazard lights?”

It was pitch dark, but what the heck, its India. Plus, there wasn’t really much else we could do - there’s no AAA here. So we cruise along the national highway with no front or rear lights using only the illumination from oncoming lorries driven by slumberous, half-dazed truckers. Portions of the highway were still under construction so there was plenty of two-and-a-half-way traffic to keep the adrenaline flowing. But to the credit of our Indian truckers, each time we thought a head on collision was imminent, they always did manage to skillfully employ evasive maneuvers, showcasing the dazzling dexterity of their lorries (we did see quite a few overturned ones also). As we got closer, we stopped to ask for directions. This helpful soul happened to be a policeman who seemed the least bit bothered that we had no lights. Super!

We had arrived. I have to admit that our superstar driver had skills - he got us to our destination safely with no lights; although we did break a side-view mirror whist scrapping past a stationary bullock cart, but who needs those anyway. Dinner was at my grandpa’s brother’s home where we were greeted by half-a-dozen dogs including the biggest German Shepherd I had ever seen. After a quick, friendly wrestle with my German friend, I dug into some amazing idlis, vadas, sambar and was later force fed a dozen jaangiris. <burp>

The Kavadi would take place the following day as we’d make our way up Swamimalai (God’s mountain). In my next article, I’ll tell you all about it.