The pilgrimage
My heart calling up the past memories
Within the black dress of spirituality
Moving to the misty Mystic Mountain
The rough path leads to jungles
In dark, wild and lush gardens
Life’s moving from darkness
To dawn of light “Sabarimala”
The season of pilgrimage
Gives up all conflicts
Lust, fury and voracity
With holly bath in the river
Promising to supreme divinity
Performing strict rituals for
The beauteous mankind...
Rocks bugs and thorns are
The struggles we crush
Never cries in cramps
Kindling the stepping stones
Chanting aloud lovely mantras
Devotees, in thousands are in front
Devotees, in thousands are behind
Recognize “thathwamasi” that
Purifies body, soul and land
So divine “Swami Ayyappa”
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