Pilgrimage.

noreply@blogspirit.com (Arun Mohan) — Fri, 16 Dec 2005 12:10:00 +0200

Moksha, they say, is a difficult objective to attain. While saying this, 'they' probably took into account, intensely hard levels of concentration, self-deprivation, spiritual purification and the like. I'm quite sure they didnt have a terribly-conditioned old bus in mind as an obstacle to salvation.

Kerala is a land of temples; perhaps the best known pilgrimage destination in Kerala is Sabarimala, high up in the Sahyadri Mountains(western ghats). Sabarimala Sri Dharmasastha Temple is the most famous and prominent among all the Sastha Temples. It is believed that "Parasurama Maharishi" who retrieved Kerala from the sea by throwing his axe, installed the idol of Ayyappa at Sabarimala to worship Lord Ayyappa.The pilgrim season begins in the month of November and ends in January. The temple attracts pilgrims not only from the southern states of India, but also from other parts of the country and abroad.(Courtesy Sabarimala.org)

If you still can't figure the place out, its the holy hillock in Kerala where Vivek Oberoi goes every year: there. (just goes to show you how celebrity-centric this world is). I visited the place yesterday along with Dad. Sabarimala happens to be 2 districts away from Trivandrum, so it only took a day. Being my first visit since I started this blog (what an excuse, eh?) I decided to thrust online, a vivid description of how the journey went.

Travel

Dad had booked bus tickets from the Travancore Devaswom Board. To cut a long part of the story short, travel by bus was horrendous. Why, the inquisitive reader may ask.There were 47 seats, the sustainability of each totally at the whim and fancy of anyone above 80 kgs. They jammed three people in one seat. Seriously, I think the bus has been designed and had been used previously by the Seven Dwarfs for their transport purposes. I've got knee cramps, butt cramps, cramps in every known part and organ of the human body. During a 5 hour journey that started at 9 in the night, I tried to sleep in every imaginable position. No matter which, some part of my being always ached. Irony is, somebody mentioned the words "Luxury Bus" before the bus came to pick us up. 'Horrendous' seems to be majorly euphemistic.

The Trek

The temple is, as already mentioned, atop a hill on the banks of the river Pampa. Vehicles stop at the banks and from then on, its travel by foot. The considerably steep uphill trek spans 3-4 kms and usually, consumes 2-3 hours. I've gone to this place 2 times before and on both occasions, the journey was quite manageable. However this time, the journey was extremely exhausting, thanks to our cruise in the bus. Dad had tried to act smart by going to the empty rear of the bus and trying to sleep there. However, that idea suffered major "jolts". So, basically, after covering some distance, we were totally pooped. At one point, Fatigue told Shame to take a hike; and we slept on the sides of the trek road. Indeed we were looking so worn-out that, as Dad put it rightly, if we had a towel sprawled in front of us, we would have attracted some coins of sympathy.1 hour of undisturbed, blissful sleep. After which, we managed to complete the rest of the journey.

The Temple

Praying at the temple was a pretty ordinary affair. We climbed the 18 steps, past the metal detector, to reach the shrine with gold-plated walls. Fortunately, the rush of devotees was quite subdued this time around. Quite possibly due to the heavy rains lashing South India. We were able to catch comfortable glimpses of the Lord getting dabbed in ghee. The intensity of the devotees has always been a source of admiration for me. Many of them traverse State Boundaries, unruly roads and trek difficult terrain barefoot, just to get a one-minute(if you're lucky enough) eye-in at the idol. I'm not going into any bullshit about Religion being the opium of the masses, but there was a sense of intense fervour in the atmosphere, quite palpable to me as I cupped my hands together and prayed.

The Return

We usually returned by any bus that was available at the time. So this time around, I wondered out aloud hopefully to Dad, during our brief sojourn, as to the bus we would be returning in. He gave me a short glance and said, " Why, we would be returning in the same bus. I booked two-way tickets." I gave him the you-hafta-be-kidding-me look. No doubt, the man had the same feeling of dread in his eyes.
So there you are; 5 more hours in the mobile House Of Horrors. However (to be read with much emphasis), there exists something known as 'saving grace', a term to which I shall henceforth attribute divine powers. This saving g. came in the form of a lunch. Yes,lunch. The bus driver, quite obvious of the pain which his passengers were in, stopped at a cracker of a hotel (clear off any imagination of outward poshness from your mind). Lunch was superb. A central Travancore delight. Yum, Yum. Gorge, Gorge...and more of the same.

The comfort of home, to which I have alluded in one of my previous posts, is readily heartening. Any fluff of atheism remaining in my mind was given the heave-ho, as Mom was waiting back home with a fruit salad.

Thinkin' on your stomach. - travel

Pilgrimage.