Checking Out Thaipusam

January 24, 2008

Yesterday, I talked Ben into waking up before sunrise and going to check out Thaipusam. It was not actually easy convincing Ben to go. It was not just the waking up early that was working against me. It was the crowds (Thaipusam is said to attract 1 million each year), the heat, the stairs, the fact that he had 'already seen the pictures', and one more time for emphasis, the million Malaysians all vying to get into his personal space. He did have a point about the crowds, seeing as he is still mastering the art of walking. But I reassured him that if we got up early the crowds would be thin, that he did not need to climb any stairs, and we could leave whenever he wanted. My persistence paid off and he caved but only on the condition that I found an easy way to get there and back and that he be allowed to bring his cane 'to beat anyone who dares to invade my personal space', which, at 6 in the morning, is extremely broad.

Thankfully, he did not have to use his cane, though I am sure he thought about using it on me a few times while en route to the festivities. This was because I failed miserably to deliver on my promise to get us there easily. Without going into the details, we left at 5:30AM hoping to arrive by 7 at the latest but instead found ourselves still searching for a taxi or bus at 8AM. We eventually arrived and were both glad we made the effort. Ben only admitted this grudgingly after his third cup of coffee and a roti canai but I think he meant it.

So what is Thaipusam? It is a Hindu holiday celebrated mostly by Tamil Indians. It is celebrated around the world but KL is host to one of the biggest and most visible of these celebrations (it was even designated a national holiday this year). Actually, I am not sure celebrated is the appropriate word. Each year on the 10th day of the month of Thai in the Hindu almanac, millions of devotees embark on a grueling journey to signify their penance for sins wrought in this life and the last, to give thanks for requests fulfilled (for instance, women who prayed for a child or students who prayed to do well in their examinations), and to demonstrate their faith and devotion. All is done in the name of Lord Murugan, the last son of Lord Shiva, who was brought into the world to assist the good spirits in conquering the evil forces that were plaguing them. He succeeded by killing the biggest evil demon with his golden spear and has served as a symbol of just about everything from valour to dance since then.

The journey actually begins 48 days before Thaipusam for the most devout. For 48 days they fast, eating only one strictly vegetarian meal a day, practice abstinence, stay silent as best they can, pray often and regularly, and endure hardships like sleeping on the floor. For some, such practices are only undertaken for a week prior to Thaipusam. On the day, of Thaipusam these devotees are placed in a trance by a swami, which is said to heighten there awareness and allow them to take on the character of Lord Murugan, who aids them in 'carrying their burden' on a sort of pilgirmage. In Malaysia, this pilgrimage ends at a Hindu Temple in Batu Caves (a large cave just north of KL) and begins at a river nearby (There is another pilgramage involved as well from downtown KL to Batu Caves. The arrival of a 5 ton silver chariot of Lord Murugan, which is carried 15km and then up the stairs at Batu Caves, marks the beginning of Thaipusam). It takes about two hours from start to finish and entails almost 300 stairs to the entrance of the cave.

While all this is interesting, you must be asking, why am I waking Ben up at 5AM to see Thaipusam with 100s of thousands of other people. Well, basically it is the 'burdens' or kavadis (or kavathis) that the devotees carry that draw so much attention. All the kavadis center on a miniature shrine to Lord Murugan and a pot of milk but this symbolism is actually obscured by the spectacular and physical way many take on their 'burdens'. Men and women are skewered through their cheeks and tongues with spears ranging from small to too large to be comfortable, have hooks placed in their backs with an array of things hanging from them or even people pulling on them, and some men carry large vel kavadis, which are floatlike, peacock feathered, extemely heavy shrines to Lord Murugan that they balance on their heads and anchore to their bodies with over a hundred hooks and chains.

Those are apples and limes hanging from those hooks.

Some of the hooks are huge and thick, like meat hooks.

A close up.

Take note of the giant spear through the guy's cheeks. They limit them to 1meter in length so as not to jab other devotees during the procession.

This a particularly large vel kavadi.

All of these 'burdens' are endured in a trancelike state that prevents the devotee from feeling any pain and there is little to no bleeding to speak of.

Often they stick there extremely red tongues out, flicking it about like a snake, and the whites of there eyes pop out at you.

It really is amazing to see. We are talking about at least a 100,000 people throughout the day making the pilgrimage in this way. They move through the crowd in groups that include people dressed in street clothes, others bearing elaborate kavadis and still others with simple bowls of millk balanced on their heads. Some groups even have drums and microphones to broadcast their chants of vel, vel, vetri, vel (vel means spear in Tamil in reference to the golden spear of Lord Murugan). Those 'carrying' the biggest kavadis have helpers who massage them when they are tired, rein them in when a trance induced frenzy takes hold, and ensure they make it safely to the shrine within the caves, where they unload their burden figuratively and literally.


A less sensational family group carrying their burdens to the temple.

Vel kavadi carrier taking a rest half way up the stairs.

Those are coconuts hanging from his hooks as he struggles to make it to the temple.

Removing the burden. There is no blood, no wincing either. When its finished the swami removes the trance, they fall to the ground are given water and celebrate their feat with a smile and rest with their family as they are given accounts and even shown pictures of what they were like in the trance because they must have no recollection.

Its actually a very festive event. Before going, I had only seen the pictures of the sensational aspects of Thaipusam but there is much more happening. And its not just the drums, dancing, and chanting that creates the energy or even the balloon selling and carnival rides (no joke) but also the many families in their most beautiful saris that fill out the crowds of pilgrims and the shaved heads (act of penance) adorned in ash on young and old alike.


Newly shaved head covered in ash, this little devotee gets help with his burden.

This guy was covered in hooks but he looked solemn and focused.

Beautifully dressed sisters climbing the stairs with their family.

It is easy to get caught up in the sensational. No doubt it even feels like some of what your witnessing has become a spectacle of what it once was. As men adorned in fruit laden hooks, jump on their friends shoulders and say 'look at me' or big gruff men walk haughtily by and puff on cigars as they carry their vel kavadis, its hard not to feel like its now all about the show and display (admittedly, its a pretty eye-catching and shocking one) but its not. There are people performing this act of faith with the greatest of sincerity and devotion. It means much to them and their families but without going there and seeing firsthand I might have never realized. Its a good lesson, one I am confronted with often actually. Never trust a picture to tell you the truth about anything. They provide only a glimpse and usually one-sided, purposeful glimpses at that.

Anyway, that's my glimpse of Thaipusam.