Entry 5 -- A Pilgrim's Way

before climbing the 1180 steps up Chamundi Hil

a pilgrim's devotion on the ascent, and the marks of devotion on the steps

view of Mysore and Deccan Plain from Chamundi Hill

coconuts are part of the ritual at Sri Chamundeshwari Temple

A Pilgrim’s Way: Ascending the Holy Hill

In the Psalms of the Hebrew Testament, the psalmist writes

    “Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord?

           And who shall stand in his holy place?”    (Psalm 24:3).

the gopura of Chamundeshwari Temple

Certainly in ancient Jerusalem there was a clear sense that the pilgrim would go UP to Jerusalem, ascending the hill of Zion on which the temple stood, and part of the devotion and the experience of God was the journey and the final climb.

This, of course, is not unique in world religions.  Pilgrimages, both short and long, have for centuries been part of religious devotion, and continue in the present day.  So it was with interest that we observed the pilgrims making their way to Sri Chamundeshwari Temple, at the top of Chamundi Hill on the edge of Mysore.  We had toured the temple with the professor of Culture and Civilization from VIIS last Saturday, but decided we would return, and make our own way up the slope on foot rather than in a passenger van.  And we decided we would do it on our own.

On Friday past, we began the day after breakfast with a trip through Mysore by autorickshaw, the three-wheeled taxis of India.  With a top speed, as one driver boasted, of 60 km/hr (I am not convinced they can get much above 40, especially with a full complement of passengers; a full complement, in Canadian terms, is three people sitting very close to one another.  In Indian terms, a full complement can mean more, especially if some are children – possibly as many as eight, with backpacks and bags hanging outside from the mirrors and stowed by the driver’s feet), we made our way quickly through the early morning traffic, and were dropped off at the bottom of Chamundi Hill.

Chamundi Hill rises sharply from the Deccan plain on which Mysore sits; with an elevation of 3489 feet above sea level, it is about 900 feet up from the plain from which it rises.  According to Hindu mythology, the region in which Mysore is located was dominated by the demon Mahishasura (in its anglicized form, Mysore, hence the city name), who could take the form of a buffalo or a human.  This demon ruler was killed after a fierce battle, the legend goes, by the goddess Chamundeshwari, and a temple in her honour has been built at the top of the hills where the battle took place.  Records of the existence of a temple on this site date back to the twelfth century, and the current temple was constructed by the Vijayanagar rulers of the sixteenth century; it underwent extensive renovations in the early nineteenth century, and currently the temple is a popular site for pilgrimage and devotion.  The seven storey gopura, or entrance tower, dominates the skyline at the top of the hill, is complete with carvings of Shiva, Ganesh and other deities, as well as depictions of the goddess Chamundeshwari.

In the 1660s, under the direction of the ruling monarch Dodda Devaraja Wodeyar, a set of stone steps was built to lead pilgrims from the base of the hill to the stop; they are quite steep, often uneven, and in the early stages very high.  The total number of steps is 1,180, and the guide books say this climb takes between fifteen and sixty minutes.  So early on a hot Friday morning we began our ascent, water bottles at the ready.  For us, it was an opportunity to see the hill at close range, to have the sense of accomplishment in climbing, and to enjoy the exercise.  For some whom we saw on the steps, it was a much richer and more meaningful climb, truly an ascent of the hill of the Lord, to stand in the holy place on top – a pilgrim’s way.

With frequent stops along the way – “for pictures” – we reached the top in a little over an hour.  Some Indian pilgrims were taking far longer, as they carefully and intentionally made every step count as part of their journey of devotion into the sacred space – a sacred place marked not only by the physical geography, but also by their own activity and action.  Part of the devotion for some was a brief prayer at each step; for others, the way of faith was by marking each step with some kumkum powder, in yellow, pink, orange, or yellow.  Kumkum is the powder made from turmeric or saffron, which we have seen in colourful array in market place and street stall, and is used for marking the forehead, entryways to sacred places, and at designated places within the temple walls.  Here it marked the progression of the journey to the temple, and became the act of devotion one step at a time, for a total of 1,180 steps.  This is indeed an act of deep devotion, and must surely draw the pilgrim through the liminal space of the steps and into the sacred realm of the divine.

At the 800-step point, we stopped at the great statue (over fifteen feet high and twenty-four long) of the bull Nandi; Nandi the bull is the legendary vihana, or vehicle, of the god Shiva, and here was carved from a solid block of black granite about 1664.  The site also hosted the usual vendors of religious paraphernalia, kumkum powders, flowers to offer to Nandi, garlands of flowers to wear, string and bead bracelets, as well as souvenirs carved from soft stone and wood, and stands and carts with vendors selling fresh mangoes, pineapples, sugar cane juice, drinks made from freshly-squeezed limes. 

Finally, at the top, leg muscles feeling the strain and the water almost gone, we walked through the market area, with more flowers, coconuts (for a ritual breaking inside the temple, as a sign of breaking one’s pride or arrogance and being humbled in the presence of the divine), kumkum powders, string necklaces and bracelets to show a pilgrimage has been undertaken, and much much more.  Some students plunged into the market place, and two of us left our shoes with them as we headed for the temple entrance.  Having paid the visitors’ fee (10 rupees, or about twenty cents for Indians; one hundred rupees for non-Indians), we received a ticket marked “Direct Special Entrance”; somehow this literally opened the gates and propelled us ahead of the long line of pilgrims waiting to go in.  We also acquired a self-appointed guide along the way; knowing it would cost us in the end (but this is his livelihood, after all), we adopted our guide, who was very knowledgeable and personable in his information about the architecture of the sacred space.  Giving us good instructions to us so that we would blend in (like there was any chance of that!), we enjoyed his monologue through the temple, and out and into the temple of Shiva beside the first.  And after the tours, a beautiful panoramic view of Mysore, and we could across the plain right to the mountains in the distance, the Western Ghats.

Eventually it was time to leave, and we tackled the local bus to the city centre bus station; arriving there without difficulty (for twenty rupees each, a little less than forty cents), we became brave and found the right bus to return us to Hebbal and the hostel.  By the time we got back, just in time for lunch, we felt we had accomplished a great deal – not just the climb, but navigating a hectic and busy bus system in a strange place.  Not quite a sacred moment, but a pilgrimage of sorts, into the land of India.  And yes, I bought a little figure of Ganesh, the elephant-faced deity, to remind me of the presence of the divine in the midst of both the sacred and the profane, but that is the subject of another blog post.