Walking around Arunachala Mountain
We got up very early in the morning, started our pilgrimage at 5 a.m. from the Sri Ramakrishnan
My friend, who has introduced me to this spiritual place, has left the shoes in the hotel, intending to walk the 14 km path bare-feet. I do not dare that, as an European I’m not used to walk long distances without shoes.
The first few kilometers we had already seen some days before, when we had explored the road by scooter. It’s a two line road, an alley with old thick trees on both sides, their crowns forming a leave roof and providing shadow to the pilgrims.
In the night of our arrival I had noticed many people traditionally dressed walking on the streets in the town, my assumption was they were going to the temple for morning puja, similar to Germany where believing people are going to
Today it’s not raining, though we are carrying umbrellas in our bags. We had only a green tea in the morning, starting our journey with empty stomachs. We are walking in silence, my travel companion listening some music with a headset, I’m curiously watching the path and observing the people.
A little outside of the town the street turns into a country road, but still with tiled walking lines on both sides and accompanied by hundreds of old trees. Where a tree has died wood carvers have converted the remaining trunk into artwork, I see hands, animals, faces, abstract sculptures here and there, sometimes quotes or sayings carved in wood.
Every some hundred meters is a trash bin, donated by the Sri Ramakrishnan Ashram, the whole street has electrical lamps, cones of the typical yellow sodium light penetrate the darkness. All this proofs the wealth of the town and the money spent to improve the path for the pilgrims.
We see a lot of orange dressed sadhus (“monks”), either still sleeping on the floor along the road or just preparing their small belongings for a new day, here rolling a mat, there sitting enjoying the dawn. Amongst them, as always, handicapped or old people, asking for donations from the pilgrims, especially from me, the supposedly wealthy foreigner.
The first or the eight Shiva temples comes in sight, a few meters away from the road, a stone path leading there. The priest is already awaiting us, we approach bare feet and I try to follow my guide's example as best as possible: first a namasté greeting of the Shiva lingam through the small open temple door, we can make out the idol in some distance, as always decorated with flowers, candles burning. Waiting at the bar between the inner temple and the believer’s area for the pujari to carry a plate with oil flame to the idol taking the spirit from there back to the pilgrims. We use both hands to receive the blessing by the flame to our face and head, occasionally putting a small bank note on the plate as donation. The pujari provides white ash, puts a little in our open hands and we take it with a finger and mark our third eye. From now on the characteristic smell of ash will accompany us along the pilgrimage. In one of the remaining 7 temples I learn to take the ash from the pujari in my left hand and use the right hand for bringing it to the forehead. I forgot to ask my travel companion where the ash is coming from, is it really ash from burned bodies as I assume? I recall a similar rite in Christian religion: once a year,
After havin received blessing from the pujari we walk clockwise around the temple, greeting the idol at all four celestial directions, finally a last greeting from the main entrance, then turning away, putting the sandals on and continue the pilgrimage. The whole procedure is accompanied by a repeated chanting from some hidden loudspeakers to praise Lord Shiva.
In the meantime the daylight has replaced the darkness, the electrical lights are no longer required, we continue our path, sometimes walking on the asphalt, sometimes on the tiles besides the road. I notice many of the orange people along the street have paper cups with a hot beverage, obviously enjoying a morning tea. A few meters further we see a small van with a big vessel loaded in the trunk parking at the side of the road
Walking further the scenery changes, we pass other small villages, do our puja at other Shiva temples, continue to walk, Arunachala always to our right. We see Ashrams and temples of other communities, some old and abandoned
Depending on the individual velocity sometimes we are overtaken by other small groups of pilgrims, who we see again at the next temple, sometimes we pass some slower people - everyone is on his or her personal path, sharing one objective: walking around the mountain.
I feel becoming part of this country, part of the road, the dust, the big trees, the dogs, the people, the spirituality, spontaneously I take off my sandals, continue my path bare feet, it feels right to unite myself with path. I admire my guide who had already walked many kilometers without wearing shoes. After the visit of the next temple I need to wear my shoes again, if I don’t want to seriously hurt my soles and stay in the hotel for the coming days.
In front of one temple five or six autos (in Europe called "TucTucs") are parking, each occupied with three or four pilgrims, this group of people seems to do a more comfortable pilgrimage. I don’t remember how many temples we have already seen, were it five or six or already seven? All my impressions and experiences are becoming mixed into a big festival of colors, smells, voices, noise, smiles, loughing, eye contact, nature, road, villages, smaller streets. I see people at their morning routine in front of their houses, opening stores, cleaning the terrace, spilling dishwater seriously p
Finally we can make out one of the impressive towers of the
Finally at the temple entrance I need to look for a place where I can leave my shoes, and finally after some security checks we can enter the inner yard. The first thing we do is get some food for breakfast. We sit on the ground and have our morning meal after a 14 km hike within slightly more than 4 hours.
As today is a festival day there are a lot of activities going on in the temple, procession of idols, people praying, pilgrims like us.
We visit the inner temple halls, build with dark marble, it became almost black by the smoke of millions of candles and fires which had been burned here during the last hundreds of years. Sitting on the cold stone floor inside the
So many people, so many individiuals, hopes, stories, prayers.....
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