The Return ***

“Where... where... “ the repetitive chanting was everywhere. There were Chinese men and women, all dressed in yellow. The men were topless. Many wore garlands of beads. Almost all had smeared ash on their foreheads and cheeks. They were all dripping wet. One of them, a large bald giant of a man, presumably the leader, was attending to another man.

“Where.... where....” It was deafening. The giant caught hold of the man’s cheeks and pierced the skewer through it. “Where.... where... “ everyone shouted.

Soon many of the men had skewers piercing their cheeks, and tongues and had hooks in their backs and chests. The women had tiny spears pierced through their foreheads and tongues. The onlookers watched fascinated. Many with cameras had a field day.

More shouts. This time “vale, vale.” A group of whites, also similarly dressed, were being pierced with tiny hooks on which dangled little pots of milk. There were Caucasian women too.

The whole area was filled with this activity. Thaipusam. A grand festival in Penang. So many Chinese, Europeans, Australians, Americans, Africans. You name it. All were devotees of Lord Murugan, and every year, they would all make a beeline for Penang to fulfill their vows. They were carrying kavadis.

Then among the chaos, a general shout went up. The photographers and the onlookers were moving hurriedly to a corner. Something unusual was happening. As they went nearer, looking over the heads and shoulders of the crowd, they saw a sight so one had seen for many years. An Indian carrying a kavadi.