Thaipusam

Devotion, strength, mortification, faith. This are some of the adjectives coming back to my mind when I think about Thaipusam. We travelled to Penang especially to attend this Tamil festival, which happens at various locations around Malaysia at the end of January. Originating from Tamil Nadu, the festival is now banned in India, considered brutal and inhuman. It survives only in some rural villages. Our dear friend in Penang, knowing about Nick's photography, suggested we didn't miss it. And he was right; Thaipusam is one of the most graphic and gruesome displays of faith anywhere on the planet.

The name Thaipusam refers to Thai, the Tamil month correspondent to January-February, and Pusam, a star which reaches its highest point when the festival is held. The festival commemorates the occasion when Parvati, the Hindu goddess who is Shiva's wife, gave a spear to Murugan, the god of war who is also her son. During the festival, devotees carry kavadis, physical burdens, as an offer for thanking for a received grace. In the month prior to the ceremony devotees cleanse themselves through prayer, meditation, abstinence and a vegetarian diet. The festival takes form of a procession, from a temple in the centre of Georgetown to one on Penang Hill, with set stops en route. Kavadis can be anything, from images of gods to jars of milk or other types of food-related offerings. However, the festival is famous for its examples of self-mortification. Most kavadi-bearers will have spears through their cheeks and tongue, to commemorate the spear given to Murugan. Others will have hooks through their backs, tied to ropes which are then pulled as the devotees walk. The highest degree of mortification of the flesh is perhaps performed by four young men which pull a chariot with an image of Murugan by a double-row of hooks on their backs. The general belief is, the greater the pain, the greater the grace received, or the merit earned.

The ceremony at the beginning of the procession when hooks and spears are inserted is captivating. Devotees lie on the floor, surrounded by incense smoke, in a state of trance, whilst their bodies are pierced and medicated with only a little ash. Watching this happening under the blistering Penang sun was making me think how much a body can endure. Faith can increase one's resistance a hundredfold. Teenagers no older than 15 carried kavadis with spears and hooks through their backs, whilst people of the same age around the world cry after a bump on the head or a grazed knee. The prayers and fasting in the month previous to the ceremony allow the kavadi-bearers to separate themselves from their body.

After watching the morning ceremony, we returned in the afternoon to see the procession going along the main thoroughfare to the temple where kavadis are offered. The same guys were dancing to the same Tamil techno, walking up a hill to the temple. The show of devotion was unlike anything I had ever seen. Also, what I liked was appreciating the medley of cultures in today's Malaysia. Not only Tamils carried kavadis, we saw also Chinese and Westerners. Up on the temple, several Chinese families were present to receive blessings. At the same time, we saw several Hindu families in Buddhist and Taoist temples over the next few days. A lesson in religious tolerance for the rest of the world.

After hours under the sun, kavadi-bearers looked exhausted, but still able to bear the weight of their devotion. Their eyes had a strange look, empty and otherworldly. They just kept going, their trance enhanced by the techno music playing incessantly, the beats growing faster and louder as the sun went down. And when the piercings were removed, we saw no blood. Whether or not there was scarring, we don't know. At the same time, we don't know whether bearers feel pain, or whether their pain threshold is increased by their devotion. Thaipusam was a rare glimpse of how our body can be seen as a fleeting entity we can detach ourselves from, through the power of prayer and faith.