How Ayyappa temples host Muslim mosques in Kerala with pomp and show

The presence of a replica mosque within a temple compound, an oracle calling azaan and performing namaz, accompanied with chants of Allahu Akbar and Ayyappa mantra, might seem like a grand theatrical act. However, in the southern Malabar region of Kerala, especially during the Sabarimala pilgrimage season, this extraordinary convergence of religious elements is a reality, manifested during Ayyappan Vilakku. Many local temples that host the Ayyappan Vilakku festival actively celebrate this inclusive and harmonious coexistence.

Ayyappan Vilakku is a small ritualistic ceremony conducted at rural temples during the Sabarimala pilgrim season which falls in November-December every year and is directly related to Lord Ayyappan in Sabarimala.

The ceremony includes creation of three replicas built using stem of banana trees and coconut leaves of the Sabarimala shrine, the main, Bhagavathy temple and the Vavar Mosque. Vavar, the Malayalam version of the Persian name Babar, who is considered to be the brother of Ayyappa, the Muslim son of Lord Shiva, is equally revered as Lord Ayyappa himself. Usually there are three Oracles as well who dance as Ayyappa himself in black attire, Bhagavathy in red and Vavar in green, blue or white.

This concoction of mythology and history might seem strange to many in the north India. However, generally Hindus of Kerala or Tamil Nadu do not have any qualms in going around a mosque or make offerings there.

The Vilakku ceremony traditionally features the ritualistic performance of Sasthampattu, a genre of devotional songs dedicated to Ayyappa, often sung with the percussion of the ‘Shiva drum’ called udukku. Several drummers perform the ballads of Ayyappa and Vavar, with the oracles dancing to their rhythm, each incorporating distinctive steps and wielding swords that complement the character they represent. The synchronised and swift movements of the swords, in harmony with the drum beats, create a captivating and visually striking performance that offers an enthralling sight. Late at night, the Thiri Uzhichil, a distinctive dance involving fire torches that can be intense on the body, accompanied by the rhythmic beats of the drum, takes place.

However, over time, the ceremony has evolved by incorporating various elements from different cultural traditions. This includes the integration of folk songs like Chinthu paattu, influenced by Tamil culture, and bhajanas (devotional songs) sung by local performers making it more popular and relatable. This blending of diverse musical elements enriches the cultural fabric of the festival, showcasing a fusion of ritualistic and regional influences.

“In the olden days, only upper caste people used to sing the traditional song Sasthampattu for Lord Ayyappa. It was done in a strict and ritualistic way. Even as caste rules relaxed a bit, the performances still kept a formal and inflexible vibe. Things changed when folk tunes were introduced. This brought a more flexible and inclusive feel, especially as working-class men joined the stage,” observes Sandeep Pothani, who has been video recording and documenting folklore over the last several years.

“Particularly in the Kodungallor area, many temples organising the Ayyappan Vilakku festival are managed by local people. The folk songs have gained immense popularity in this region. Nowadays, in numerous temples, traditional Sasthampattu coexists harmoniously with bhajanas, folk music, and Chinthu paattu,” adds Sandeep.

The caste angle also plays a significant part with the more popular version of these ballads being performed by singers and artists belonging to Dalit or intermediary castes. According to Sandeep, the upper-caste-dominated temples, still stick to traditional songs.

Sasthampattu and the folk ballads both revolve around the shared theme of the legend of Ayyapan, Vavar, and Malikappurathamma. According to these tales, Pathumma, a Muslim girl, conceived Vavar after encountering a blossomed tree with fragrant flowers. This tree was believed to be Lord Shiva, who was deeply in love with the Muslim girl. In many songs, Vavar is depicted as a local Robin Hood, who robbed the villainous rich to distribute wealth among the poor. After encountering Lord Ayyappa and engaging in a prolonged battle where neither emerged as the victor, Vavar became his soulmate.

Many popular songs have originated from Sasthampattu, simplified in language for broader understanding among common people. EAS Puthiyakavu, a local lyricist who, despite being a school dropout, possessed significant knowledge in Sanskrit and Puranas, contributed greatly to these simplified renditions. Interestingly, almost all the songs on Vavar’s story are sung in the traditional tune of Mappilappattu (Muslim songs).

“My father was also a social activist, aiming to convey the true essence of the legend of Ayyappa and Vavar by presenting a simpler and poetic version. His songs beautifully captured both the devotion and romanticism embedded in Vavar's birth story,” says Sudheesh Ammaveedu, Malayalam poet and the son of EAS Puthiyakavu who wrote the songs.

“For my generation, it was the romantic aspect of Pathumma’s story, leading to the conception of Vavar, that held more appeal than the element of devotion within the narrative. Above all, the key takeaway from the story is the coexistence of Ayyappan and Vavar, emphasizing the concept of Hindu and Muslim brotherhood. This message holds particular relevance in our times,” adds Sudheesh.

Forty-six-year-old Gireesh Padiyath, a tractor driver and daily-wage labourer with the local Krishibhavan, who embodies the oracle of Vavar in Ayyappan Vilakku, says that he never has formally learned how to perform namaz or call azaan.

“When I listen to the song and grasp its inner meaning, an indescribable force leads me to dance. My Muslim friends wonder how I instinctively perform their prayers accurately. I'm not consciously aware how I do it. According to the song, when Vavar was born the land was barren, crops failed, and famine prevailed. Only when he formed a bond with Lord Ayyappa and became his ally did the earth regain fertility. The message resonates that collectively, whether Hindus, Muslims, or anyone else, we must unite for the earth to yield its fruits. This philosophy is the essence I draw from the ritual and the song,” Gireesh, a school dropout says.

“The Ayyappan-Vavar story and the bhajanas based on Mappilappattu have not generated any issues or conflicts, contrary to expectations or fears. Even BJP workers participate in the Vilakku ceremonies without any problems. This uniqueness, characterised by a secular and all-inclusive tradition, seems to be a distinctive feature of this particular locality,” says Sandeep Pothani. But in different areas, the reaction differs. “I received threats when I shared these videos online from known Sangh Parivar activists in other districts,” he adds.

“In Mathilakam, near Kodungallur, Hindus and Muslims have a tradition of living together peacefully. There’s a story that the land for the mosque and the temple of Puthiyakavu was swapped even after they started building them. The mosque kept some parts that looked like the temple. Nowadays, when history is often seen through the lens of dominant religions, people may feel unsure or cautious about how to interpret such stories,” says Sudheesh.

The harmonious coexistence between Ayyappan and Vavar extends beyond local temple tales or the Ayyappan Vilakku festival. It remains an integral tradition at the Sabarimala temple itself.

During the chaotic events of 2018 when protests erupted against permitting women of menstruating age into the sanctum sanctorum of the Sabarimala temple in Kerala, the Vavar mosque of Erumeli, in contrast, maintained its usual peace.

In the myth, following Vavar’s pivotal role in aiding Ayyappa’s triumph over the demon princess Mahishi at Erumely, Ayyappa left for Sabarimala. He beseeched Vavar to remain stationed at Erumely. Additionally, Ayyappa directed his devotees that if they desired to undertake a pilgrimage to Sabarimala, they should first seek the presence of Vavar.

“The tale of Ayyappa and Vavar goes back centuries, and the people of Erumeli and its surrounding areas embody the spirit of unity stemming from this story. The Sabarimala pilgrim season is intricately linked with the livelihood of the local residents,” says CAM Kareem, secretary at Erumeli’s Vavar mosque.

During the Petta Thullal, a ritualistic dance associated with the pilgrimage, Muslims continue their usual practices, including namaz inside the mosque. Ayyappa devotees are traditionally welcomed to the mosque during this ceremony. It’s a rare yet heartening scene where Ayyappa devotees, while circumambulating the mosque in reverence of Vavar, witness the simultaneous observance of namaz.

“Last week, when the Petta Thullal ceremony coincided with our Friday prayers, we requested them to come a bit earlier, and they willingly obliged. This harmonious coexistence has been a way of life here for centuries,” Kareem told The Federal.

Scottish author and art historian William Dalrymple has documented this experience in a 2010 article narrating his Sabarimala visit.

“The mosque, when we finally got there, lay in the centre of Erumeli. Everywhere barefoot devotees choked the streets, haggling at the stalls selling fresh king coconuts. But the scene around the mosque was more chaotic still. Pilgrims were pouring out of a pair of ashrams opposite, covered in leaves and twigs and greenery, and painted with tiger stripes of yellow and blue. Some were wearing tiger masks, others silver crowns. In this dress, ecstatically laughing and cheering, chanting and singing, they ran and danced rather than walked into the mosque. Here they began rapidly circling the ambulatory that runs around the mosque’s prayer hall. At one point on their circuit, some of the pilgrims took coconuts which they had bought in the bazaar and threw them at a wall. The coconuts shattered and fell in pieces into a special pit below. I had never seen anything more animistically pagan, or anything less Islamic, taking place in a mosque; but the praying Muslims within seemed quite unfazed by the screaming painted ecstatic sharing their sacred space.”

The narrative the right wing wants to promote is that Vavar is an Indianised Muslim Arab who grew to be submissive to the dominant traditions and so he is now revered by all. This interpretation underscores the ability of Hindu Dharma to bring forth nobility even in those who initially approach it with enmity.

Nevertheless, the essence of this local festival revolves around fostering harmony between communities, exemplified by temples hosting namaz and featuring replicas of mosques. In a tumultuous period like the present, this display of inclusivity is heartening and holds profound meaning.