After the emotional experience at Swamimalai, my Arupadai Veedu pilgrimage continued to Palani.
Among all the sacred abodes of Lord Murugan, Palani was one I had always wanted to visit. As I stood at the foot of the hill early that morning, I couldn’t help but think of Batu Caves in Malaysia. There was a familiar feeling, yet I knew this experience would be very different.
It was around 7 a.m., and the temple was already crowded.
I later learned it was a period similar to a mini Thaipusam celebration, and devotees were arriving in large numbers.
As I looked up towards the temple, one thing crossed my mind.
“Today, I will climb.”
I was already experiencing some knee pain, and part of me wondered how the climb would go.
But something interesting happened.
With every step, I found myself chanting Murugan’s name.
Step by step. Prayer by prayer.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking about the pain.
My focus shifted completely to the journey.
The climb became more than a physical effort.
It became part of the pilgrimage itself.
By the time I reached the top, I felt tired, but at the same time, incredibly grateful.
Then came the darshan. The crowd was intense.
Devotees were constantly moving, and many people barely had a few seconds before being guided forward.
I expected the same thing to happen to me.
I thought I would get one quick glimpse of Lord Murugan and be asked to move on.
But something happened that I will never forget.
As I stood before Palani Andavar, everything seemed to slow down.
I saw him in his Andi Kolam, simple yet powerful.
People were moving around me, yet somehow nobody pushed me.
Nobody rushed me.
Nobody asked me to move forward immediately.
For those few moments, it felt like there was only Murugan and me.
I looked at him. I prayed. And tears filled my eyes.
After waiting years to begin this pilgrimage, after the climb, after the journey, I was finally standing before him.
I still get goosebumps when I think about that moment.
It’s difficult to explain.
Some experiences cannot be described with words.
They can only be felt.
When I eventually left the temple, I felt happy, peaceful, and deeply grateful.
I offered my prayers.
I thanked Murugan for allowing me to be there.
And I left with something special, a small statue of Palani Andavar and a Vel that I still treasure today.
Looking back, Palani was never just about climbing a hill.
It was about faith.
It was about perseverance.
And it was a reminder that some moments happen exactly when they are meant to.
Everything happens for a reason.
And for me, Palani was one of those moments.
Muruga🙏
🔜 Pazhamudircholai: Where Faith Meets Nature
Beyond The Horizon 