Pilgrimages for some
are done as a routine, or on special festivals or when people come visit
their native shores for vacations. For some it is a rejuvenation, for others,
it becomes a part of the holiday season when the family can spend
precious time together. For us… it has
to be decreed…It was never ever taken on our own will and vision..To drag
Santhosh to the nearest temple is a mammoth task, and a losing battle, and now
find it easier to go and converse and bask in the Lord’s glory alone.. So this time the decreed destination was Pillayar petti.. a drive of
around fifteen hours, and he couldn’t wait to be there and asked me to put
aside a close wedding…I was adamant that we go for the wedding, and the next
day we set off.. For Santhosh, the wheel is his pal and soulmate..he shares the
most intimate conversations and bares his heart out and also schemes and plots
and plans with the wheel in his hand, and for me as soon as the seat belt is
fastened, sleep drifts in and blissful slumber..
The temple town Palani was approaching ..telltale signs of men with Kavadis and bodies smeared with ashes, some with long matted hair..Could not click pictures of a man with the spear passed through his tongue.. Why are they abusing their bodies so? I wanted to see them piercing ..how can this happen in today’s world? The sun has begun to lose its fury and the sky became an artist’s palette… fusing and freaking into colors that has no name.
The temple loomed
large and lights had started to twinkle. Later learnt that it was the most
important festival…Pani uthram .Pranams to the Holy Hill and off we sped to
Madurai..checked in to a nice Hotel and sunk into the white sheets and the
persuasive voice of Arnab Goswami too could not keep us from slipping into
welcome slumber.
Five thirty in the morning, the weather was warm..and humid.
Within an hour we reached Pillyar Petti..The temple had a huge pond in front,
and the red and white stripes and the huge grey Gopurams were all being given a
fresh coat of paint.
A lady with garlands of the dharbha grass stood there expectantly..the
dharba grass is Lord Ganesha’s favorite. Bought one
from her and then, a man befriended us maybe just out of curiosity, or
loneliness, or both, and lo..a priest was coming our way.. the man said that he
was the son of the head priest, and told the priest that we were from
Kannur…”Oh Kannur..I have fond memories of that place, as I used to come to
Pillayar Kovil with my dad when I was a small boy, Come with me” So immediately he took us into his fold and
asked us to follow him..The lines of men and women looked at us as we strode
past them with the priest.
He made us sit at the entrance and we watched
Pillayar in all his finery. He introduced us to his father, an old man with age
old wisdom and love shining through his eyes.. he had been to Kannur many times
and he used to stay in Sheshaiyyar’s house in Kannur.Sheshayyar was a Tamil Brahmin and his family were family friends
He told us that some of the priests in Kannur Pillayar kovil were trained under him.. True to his word, we found many young priests offer him salutations..He blessed us and gifted us a large picture of Pillayar..he made us exchange garlands and on asking whether he will take a picture with us, he said he would come out and do so..Now that is where our own Pillayar Kovil in Kannur gets its Tamil touch…
He told us that some of the priests in Kannur Pillayar kovil were trained under him.. True to his word, we found many young priests offer him salutations..He blessed us and gifted us a large picture of Pillayar..he made us exchange garlands and on asking whether he will take a picture with us, he said he would come out and do so..Now that is where our own Pillayar Kovil in Kannur gets its Tamil touch…
Rameshwaram was the next temple which was decreed, but
before racing off, I wanted a Chettinad saree, and also a look at the antique
shops there.. Loads and loads of enamel coated utensils..brand new and just
turned it and saw that it was made in Sweden. This was imported from Sweden to
be given as a part of their dowry.. Old milk cans, tiffin carriers, plates mugs
spoons.. prices were steep ..picked up a few…vintage.. rustic …ole fashioned..
country charm…these synonyms flashed through my mind I asked why there was an
abundance of this material..The shop keeper said that these had come in huge containers and they must ve
got fed up of seeing the same stuff over the years..baskets and ornamental
carved cradles ..cane baskets which had inricate filigree work....no photos please he
said..lamps, brass vessels, elaborately carved coconut graters made of rosewood
which costs a whopping twenty thousand...old Tanjore paintings with real gold
and gems, carved doors and the list goes on..What I love about browsing through
antique stores is that these have their own stories to tell,and lo..I take off
on my flights of fantasy.. and you do not know what you will bump into..and
only ones with a little idiosyncrasy will opt to tread through the slimy by lanes
and search through the dust and cobwebs and pull out unique artifacts… Why are
they there …and how did they reach there? Old grammar books and photographs, another
thing I love, an era of studio portraits taken with much care and though,
the old puff hairstyles, the docile wife
sitting on an ornamental chair with children with kohl laden eyes and oiled
plaited hair..all around, and one on her lap... and I found cane potty stools
too…heavy glass topped nail cutters..a ceramic lime squeezer…brass spittoons,
cane easy chairs with leg rests, wooden cradles with ornate work on them(they
cd have used it for generations to come).. blue pottery, ..ah! the Chettinad
Lords had an easy life indeed..a far cry from the branded stores which has the
same stuff all over the globe…
Next on the cards..I wanted a Chetttinad cotton
saree…Santhosh opted to stay in the car while I browse the store…a dangerous
proposition for a husband to let his wife scot free in a saree store..but was
always a quick buyer..within half an hour I stepped out with a beautiful Rani
Pink with blue thread work and and peach and purple combo for my mom..
The next leg of our journey…to Rameshwaram…another four
hours under the scorching sun…more of the kavadis and men with pierced cheeks
and tongues..walking barefoot…Faith can move mountains.
Passed many Chettinad houses, just the sight of those plastered walls, gateways with The Goddess of Prosperity carved on it, the silver wrought iron gates, intricately carved doors, arches, and ornate windows... all spoke of glorious years long ago.. Crumbling houses ..simply makes me sad....
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| view from our room |
A rhythmic drum beat was heard a short distance away, and
the receptionist told us it was a special festival and we were lucky to be here
that day. The guide had come and we walked towards the temple..Night had set in
and the stars twinkled the moon was pink and silvery..the rays rippled on the
midnight blue waters.. families still lazily wading through the gentle
waves..the sand playing hide n seek beneath your feet,the lights from the
boats completed the canvas..the white
waves gently kissed the shores, but the frantic drum beats was a contrast to
the gentle waves… The guide showed us the place that we should come in the
morning to perform the rites for our ancestors..felt melancholy thinking of our
dear departed. I closed my eyes… holy communion…total peace …silence in the
midst of this crass loud beats..all the drum beats could not come in the way of
this communion…and prayed for them to rest in peace and that they attain
salvation… ..This is the same sea where Sri Rama had crossed to free Seetha
from the clutches of Ravana and the Vanara(monkey clan) had built the Sethu,
Where would Sri Rama have met the proverbial squirrel, and is this the place
where the squirrel attained his three lines on its back?..then we walked
towards the drum beats and I was in no way prepared for what unfolded before
me…aghast, I saw a man smeared with ash and turmeric, standing in the centre of the crowd, lo, before I knew
it.. a four feet rod was being pierced through his cheeks in a
Jiffy..yes in a 
jiffy…a simple blood test takes more time than this..the rod slid out through the other cheek..and lo..
he was dancing merrily with the the
rod balanced perfectly on either side..a lime was pushed into the rod where it pierced as it might hurt the
people standing beside..then he was tied
on to a large wooden frame and soon he was being hung on to a frame of sorts,
and then I saw that another man was already
on the other side of the frame merrily clapping to the rhythmic beat..a lady
beside me started dancing with her hair all lose as in a trance and soon fell down..another man was ready to be
pierced and lo..not an expression of pain..was he numb? 
More to follow..another
man was getting his back pierced and to top it all, thick ropes were were slid through those hooks pierced on his
back..and lo..he was pulling the entire tirade of three men pierced and hanging
on the frame…too much for a day..the procession moved to the temple..we walked
around the temple, sat beside the sea, and had idlis from a small hotel..i
searched for a Gujju place to eat..years back on a trip to Rameshwaram, I
remember having food from a Gujarathi family home… soft melt in the mouth
chappathis, a large helping of dhal, curd and a menacing chilli to smash in the curd…but could not find
one..later I heard that now it was all commercialized and you wont get any
chappathi and chilli curd combo anymore.
We started walking back to the
hotel, and I looked up at the moon… I saw a star near the moon… slightly larger
than the normal ones..It was moving…was it a shooting star?..no it was as though
it was walking with us..must be the clouds moving..I asked Santhosh to look
up..and he too was surprised, and said it might be the clouds…but it was moving
with us…we walked gazing at the star, gliding through the sky..no it wasn’t
the clouds..the other stars were motionless..we reached the hotel..It stood
there…it stopped moving..I went to the room, washed my feet and came out..it
was there..you can come to your own conclusions…
I invoked the omniscient Google and lo..and there was the
answer…the men who undertake this piercing undertake various austerities for
forty-eight days..and attain the secret powers of painlessness..the power of God
infuses them with courage..…a 2 mm rod four feet in length pierced so effortlessly…no
blood, no resistance, no fear, only pure joy. Seeing is experiencing..no words
can describe the mood, no lines can convey the surge of faith..Just lucky to be
there, not questioning the rituals which had felt like self abuse hours
earlier..let it be..
Next day at five in the morning, we walked to the place the
pooja was to be done for our ancestors..the sea was violet..and the place was
already agog with chants and ..streaks of brilliant orange making moving patterns in the sky.. the morning was warm..
the gentle waves
kissed our feet..while the sun was almost still submerged in the purple
sea…scores of people were having their holy dip, samudra snaanam they call it..but
there was no hullaballooo, only a peaceful co existence, each remembering their
loved ones..this holy sea was supposed
to be the fist theertha..we sat down for the pooja which barely took ten
minutes, and then offered some rice to
the goats waiting nearby, then walked to the temple for taking bath with the
twenty one theerthas…the shops for
knickknacks which were bustling the previous day were not yet open, the
teashops were offering tea and snacks..
the gentle waves
kissed our feet..while the sun was almost still submerged in the purple
sea…scores of people were having their holy dip, samudra snaanam they call it..but
there was no hullaballooo, only a peaceful co existence, each remembering their
loved ones..this holy sea was supposed
to be the fist theertha..we sat down for the pooja which barely took ten
minutes, and then offered some rice to
the goats waiting nearby, then walked to the temple for taking bath with the
twenty one theerthas…the shops for
knickknacks which were bustling the previous day were not yet open, the
teashops were offering tea and snacks..
The temple was awe inspiring a lengthy corridor of ornamental
, majestic pillars one thousand two hundred to be precise, and the corridor was
the longest in the world, a hundred and ninety-seven metres long and a hundred
and thirty-three metres wide.., a scene of artisans and sculptures busy at their
task flashed through my mind’s eye..
we headed for the first
theerta..a small well and two people were on the side wall of the well
with little pails tied with a rope..We bow our heads in front of him and
torrents of divine theertha splashed on us…and lo as though all our sins are
washed off, showering on us untold hope . drenched to the bone we followed
instructions and we bowed before the twenty one pails of theertha on us, fresh
as a morning dewdrop, we were reluctant to brush the divine drops away, but
dharshan awaits us and we changed our clothes and basked in the quiet of the
early morning dharshan.
The scent of vibhuthi was so powerful but therapeutic..This
temple is one among the twelve Jyothirlingas in India, and numerous saints have
glorified this by composing verses and shlokas, and even finds a mention in the
Skanda Purana. This is where Sage Agastya met Rama, Seetha and Lakshmana and
advised them on the Law of Karma. To atone for his sin, Rama was asked to
consecrate a linga here,and immediately, Hanuman was sent on the errand to
bring a linga, Meanwhile Seetha was playfully making a linga with sand. Hanuman
met with obstacles and could not come on the muhurtha..so the lingam which Seetha made of sand was used..Lo..when Hanuman returned,naturally he was disappointed
and Rama could not bear to see his crestfallen face, tried to remove Seetha's linga..but pull as he might, the sand structure would not budge.. and so installed his lingam beside it, and made a rule that devotees are to pray to Hanuman’s lingam first which
is followed to this day. on our return we found sculptures of the architects of
the temple and the main architect and the dates sculpted on them..What a scene it would have been back then..supervisors and architects in colorful dhothies and veshties and a lot of jewelry...Here I am
centuries later thanking them for this day..pilgrimage over and am waiting for
the next decree..
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