91
FROMTHEARCHIVES
CARRYINGMYKAVADI
Itwas3pmandI’dbeenworking for
13hoursstraight, chasingoneevent
across twocountrieswithacamera
slungacrossmyback.
No, thiswasn’t justanother
dayon the job,but thenagain, the
assignmentwas far fromnormal:
skeweredmenstoodbeforeme,metal
spearsdriven through their tongues
andcheeks, steelhooks tearing into
theirbacks, all in thenameof faith.
Massive
kavadi
chariots, their tops
adornedwith feathers, restedon the
shouldersofdancing, singing,praying
devotees.
Itwas thedayofThaipusam, an
annual ritualheld inhonorof the
HindugodMurugan.According to
legend,Murugandefeatedhordes
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ofdemonswithadivinespear, an
objecthisworshippers todayuse
tovanquish ills from their lives.
Sufficiently impaled,bandsof
drummerspounding furiouslyon
thesidelines, thisbizarreparade
ofpenitentsmade foronegrisly
spectacle.
Istarted thedayshooting the
festivities inSingapore’sLittleIndia,
andended it justover theMalaysian
border indowntownJohorBahru,
where theskeweringandpraying
lastedwell into thenight. Ishould
havebeen tiredandhungry,butI
wasn’t: compared towhat these folks
wereenduring,myown
kavadi
—a
longdayspentwranglingwith two
camerasandacoupleof lenses—
didn’tseemquitesohard.
