A timeless tradition capturing the continuum of time - Thiruvarur Azhither 21 March 2024

21 March 2024; Thiruvarur municipality, Tamil Nadu; 9.00 AM. We got ready and left in a car to the centre of all the activity. Police stopped our vehicle on the way, asked us to get on foot and walk about 3 km to the venue. There were thousands of people walking all around us, everyone barefoot. It had just rained a little around 8 AM and the heat had not started rising. Even as we walked amidst the sea of people, I felt like I was a small part of something huge and larger than life. As we neared the centre of the activity, the distant rhythm of drums was wafting through the air. It was the annual ஆழித்தேர் திருவிழா annual chariot festival of Lord Thiyagaraja (Shiva) and Goddess Kamalambigai (Parvati) of Thiruvarur. We exited a narrow by lane and turned and suddenly we were in the middle of the buzz of activity. There were layers of people filling the vast mada veethi or the street on which the chariot will go. At the far end of this crowd was the huge 350 tonne, 100 feet tall chariot of Lord Thiyagaraja. It was a magnificent sight. 

Historically this chariot festival dates back several centuries and is one of the oldest Hindu traditions which continues to be practiced today. The festival finds mention in the Thevara padigams by Thirugnanasambandar, Thirunavukkarasar and Sundarar. The huge crowd of people, the chanting of "Aroora...Thiyagesa..." the name of the deity, the sounding of the rhythms, cymbals and conch that reverberated all around and the excitement of all people young and old all around us was energising in a totally different level. For the two hours that we were there, my mind was completely still. All thoughts had suddenly vanished. It was just me in the sea of people, at that moment, thoughtless and meditative. Practitioners of meditation and mindfulness achieve this state after years of practice. Many people in that chariot festival had attained that state, I know I had, without much effort. 

A group of young men were standing in a circle and playing drums. They were all focussed on maintaining the rhythm. There was bliss written all over their faces. They were jumping and moving along with the rhythm. The rhythm was so elevating. In the midst of the loud rhythmic noises, nobody in the crowd was talking. The sound outside had completely drowned out any kind of speech or thoughts inside. 

One group of Sivanadiyars, devotees of Lord Siva were chanting Tamil hymns of Thevarams. They were engrossed in singing and were completely in the moment. Another group of people were dancing to the rhythms and songs. Their dance was liberated and free. Some of them were just jumping to the rhythm in absolute ecstasy. They were unmindful and unabashed about others watching. As I stood there in the middle of all this, I lost track of everything that was happening in life. It was a pure state of existence in the moment. 

Festivals like this hold significance for many reasons. They are an integral piece of the continuum of time. The same chariot, same structure, same construction, same tradition and rituals repeated year after year for centuries, undiluted and preserved in its original form creates a sense of continuum of time. As I stood there witnessing the spectacle, I couldn't help but wonder that Gnanasambandar, Appar and Sundarar would have felt the same way when they stood there witnessing the grandeur completely immersed in the moment. My older cousins were standing next to me and said they went back in time to when they witnessed it as a child. My mother recollected several years of being witness to this grand event. It instantly established a link across time between all of us. The exhilaration of witnessing the chariot festival brought us all together across time. The beauty of such grand events is that they help us stay rooted in the moment. When I am in a cinema, or when I am reading a book; When I am at work or when I am writing something my attention is always divided. The 2 hours in the chariot festival had my undivided attention. I was fully present in the moment. When we are fully present in the moment, the mind is still. When the mind is still there is peace. I experienced a divine peace of mind that entire day. I think, this shared experience of bliss, mindfulness, peace and connectedness is what keeps such traditions and rituals alive and relevant even today. I am happy that I was part of something larger than life, for a few hours on that day.