Like every year, the Tamil devotees celebrate the “Thaipoosam Cavadee” in honour of Lord Muruga. A celebration which is marked by a parade of flower-decked floats and people drilled with silver goads.
Heated by the scorching summer sun, the burning asphalt endlessly unfolds beneath Kessen’s barefoot. He is carrying a strange burden on his shoulders: the “cavadee.” It’s a small palanquin, designed with carefully woven flowers tied to wooden frames. The whole thing is topped by the statue of the deity Muruga.
Like thousands of Tamil, this young man starts the procession which characterizes the celebration of the “Thaipoosam Cavadee,” in the honour of Muruga. According to a specific calendar, this event takes place either in January or in February. All along the way to the temple, his companions gently splash water on him to refresh him.
Like on the public holidays, the traffic is moving more freely. The motorists who daily jam up the roads are unobtrusive. Instead, pilgrims with traditional dresses such as the sarees, lengthy dresses and loincloths, populate the streets.
The parade is spectacular. Firstly, there is the “cavadee” and their ornaments. “It took me three hours to make this,” states Kessen. This inhabitant of Port-Louis bought the flowers the day before, in Moka, a town about twenty kilometres away. Lemons and limes add themselves to the richly coloured floral garlands.
The “cavadee” are of different sizes, they can be light and distinct or massive, carried by several people. But, they seem to outdo one another in beauty. If most of them are rectangular or in a circular arc, others have more subtle designs: the shape of a peacock, embellished with elegant bird’s feathers
Draped with their bright pink loincloths, the “cavadee” carriers are similarly astounding. Mostly floral patterns sparkle on their chests, back, shoulders or foreheads. These are the “vel,” fine silver needles that are pierced on their bodies. Some also pierce the tongue and cheeks.
It’s during the morning ceremonies in the starting temple that the carriers pierce themselves with the “vel.” After their ablutions, the devotees meet here at around 7 in the morning, for the rituals prior the procession. They are at the end of ten fasting days whereof they were contented with simple vegetarians’ meals.
They bring offerings of fruits, bananas, coconuts, flowers, incense sticks and milk. They proceed one by one in front of the Muruga, the priest then gently splash it with the milk brought by the devotees.
The temple gradually gets crowded. “We expect about a hundred of cavadee for the day,” estimates an official at the Madurai Mariamen, a temple in Port-Louis, whilst the flower-decked floats flock in the courtyard.
The incantations and the tinkling of the bells fill the air thickened with the fragrance of the incense. A few tourists stroll in the middle of the crowd. Anyone can enter the temple, but one needs to take off ones shoes before trampling in the spot.
The procession begins at around 10 00am. The devotees are being led to another temple whereof they join in with other groups for a large prayer gathering. Ultimately, one returns home to continue the festivity with one’s family.
As for the “cavadee,” it seems to be as ephemeral as the flowers. After the ceremonies, the owners dismantle the garlands, whereas, others leave them to get carried away by the current of the river, towards their ultimate journey.
Text and photos: William Rasoanaivo
January 2008