Introduction
In the summer of 1982, deep in the heart of Malaysia’s Kelantan state—a region aptly named the Land of Lightning—I found myself standing before a blazing pit of fire, about to participate in a Hindu firewalking ceremony. This journey was not just a physical crossing but a transformative passage that shattered my reality and propelled me into an ecstatic state I had never before experienced. Reflecting on this event over the past three decades, I believe that such profound experiences might parallel the ecstatic states induced in ancient initiates of mysteries like the Eleusinian Mysteries.
To someone who has never been part of a grand religious procession, it’s challenging to convey the complete emotional immersion and investment that occurs. Over nearly two years, I had the privilege of participating in lunar calendar ceremonies during Hindu festivals in Malaysia. These festivals, often spanning three days, enveloped me in a world where prayer rose amidst glorious clamor, and activities swirled like rushing water into a hollow, spinning and thrusting in predetermined courses shaped by the surrounding events.
I share this personal journey because, in reality, accounts of ancient rituals shrouded in mystery are as much a reflection of ourselves as they are of historical facts. Our interpretations are inevitably colored by our own experiences, understandings, and cultural contexts. By delving into my own transformative experience, I hope to shed light on the universal aspects of ecstatic states and altered consciousness that transcend time and culture.
Initial Contact
In early June 1982, a friend told me about an upcoming firewalking ceremony—Thimithi—at the Sri Maha Mariamman Temple in the Kuala Pertang Estate, about seven miles south of Kuala Krai. Intrigued, I visited the temple on my next day off. Meeting with members of the temple committee, I expressed my interest in the festival. After a brief discussion, they discerned my deeper desire.
“But the reason you came is that you want to participate,” the temple secretary said.
Surprised yet eager, I agreed. After conferring among themselves, they granted me permission. They outlined strict conditions: for the week leading up to the firewalk (June 15-22), I was to observe a vegetarian diet—no meat, fish, poultry, or eggs—and abstain from alcohol. I was to fast from sunrise to 6 p.m., permitted only cow’s milk if necessary. Daily prayer or meditation was required, along with abstinence from sexual activity, maintaining cleanliness, and sleeping in the temple the night before the firewalk.
I accepted these conditions, fully aware that I was stepping into a realm far removed from my own cultural and religious background.
The Gods Decide, Not Men
On the evening of June 21st, I returned to the temple. After confirming that I had adhered to their guidelines, the committee instructed me to join the other devotees for the Garagam Paalithalum (making of the garagam) and Manjal Naan Kaththalum (tying of the yellow cord) rites at the river.
At the riverbank, the priest, Kunjikanan—a small, wizened man with an aura of wisdom—crafted the garagam, a conical adornment made from mango leaves and jasmine flowers. Wearing the garagam is a great honor, bestowed upon the first person to cross the fire.
We were instructed to bathe in the river—a ritual purification. Emerging from the water, prayers were offered, and vibuthi (holy ash made from incinerated cow dung) was applied to our foreheads, chests, and arms. Surrounded by the congregation, chants to Lord Muruga filled the air, each chorus punctuated by fervent shouts of “Vel! Vel!”—a reference to the vel, the lance of Lord Muruga believed to pierce the soul and induce trance.
As the chanting intensified, three of our group fell into trance. Each displayed unique manifestations, believed to reflect the deity or spirit possessing them. One devotee began swaying uncontrollably; another, possessed by the Monkey Spirit, darted through the crowd, even consuming coconut husks.
Suddenly, the Monkey Spirit-possessed devotee pointed directly at me. Stunned, I realized I had been chosen to cross the fire first. However, when presented with a test—a flaming lime on a sword blade—I hesitated, unsure of what was expected. A woman in trance intervened, and the temple committee informed me that I had failed the test. A superior god forbade me from crossing first. Relieved yet contemplative, I stepped back.
Homage to the Sun and Shattering the Ego
As dawn broke, Kunjikanan performed rituals honoring Savitar, the personification of the sun, invoking his vivifying energy. Later, the ceremonial bathing of the goddess Mariamman commenced, symbolizing purification and renewal.
Throughout the day, the garagam bearer, Manogaram, led processions to the homes of community members. At each stop, saffron water was poured over his feet, and coconuts were shattered—a powerful symbol. The coconut, representing the skull, is shattered to signify the breaking of the ego, a crucial step in spiritual devotion. Hindus believe that the ego separates humanity from God, and its destruction allows for true worship and connection.
Fear and Doubt
By mid-afternoon, as the time of the firewalk approached, my earlier calm gave way to mounting fear and nausea. Watching the fire—now reduced to a bed of glowing coals yet still intensely hot—I questioned my ability to proceed. Doubts swirled as I considered the risks and the unfamiliarity of the ritual.
Seeking solace, I retreated to a nearby house to rest. Lying on a bed, I realized I was hiding—from the fire, from the crowd, and from myself. Determined not to succumb to fear, I forced myself to return to the temple grounds. As I walked, the rough grass irritated my feet, exacerbating my apprehension.
Soul Cleansing and the Onset of Trance
At 5:30 p.m., we gathered at the river for the ritual soul cleansing. The goddess Mariamman was invoked, and we performed the achamana, sipping water and rubbing the excess over our heads. Kumkum (a bright red powder) and sandalwood paste were applied to our foreheads, marking the pottu over our third eye—the locus of spiritual vision.
As we stood side by side, the crowd chanted fervently to Lord Muruga. One by one, devotees around me fell into trance, each exhibiting unique behaviors—rolling on the ground, dancing wildly, entering possession by various spirits. The intensity of the chanting crescendoed around me, “Vel! Vel!” echoing in my ears.
I attempted to enter trance, silently chanting my chosen mantra: “Lord, I do believe; help thou my unbelief.” Despite my efforts, I remained aware, feeling like an outsider in this deeply cultural and religious phenomenon. The temple president approached me, observing, “You are in trance. You can walk across the fire. You will not be hurt.”
The Second Test and the Pull of the Divine
Led to the temple committee, I underwent another test. Flaming limes were placed before me, and without conscious thought, I stamped out the flames with my feet and extinguished another in my hand. The crowd cheered, and I felt a detachment from my actions—a sense of being guided by forces beyond my understanding.
A devotee named Kaka Singh, possessed by the fierce forest god Madurai Veeran, leaped onto a sword blade held aloft and declared he would take me across the fire since I had not fully entered trance. Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me toward the temple, the crowd parting before us.
Crossing the Fire
As we approached the fire pit, now a bed of white-hot coals, my senses seemed dulled. The heat radiating from the pit was imperceptible to me, though others shielded their faces. Doubt crept in again—I questioned my decision, the reality of the situation pressing upon me.
Suddenly, there was a tug on my wrist. I stepped into a small pit filled with ash water and then onto the grass before the coals. Looking back for reassurance, I realized there was no turning back. I began to run.
The world narrowed to the immediate—a purely kinesthetic experience devoid of thought or sensation of heat. Midway across, my trance broke, and I became acutely aware of the surroundings and a slight burning under my feet. The thought flashed: “Just a few more steps.”
Reaching the end, I was caught by two men who guided me into a pit of milk to cool my feet. A surge of exhilaration washed over me. I had done it.
Ecstasy and Aftermath
Entering the temple, I applied holy ash to the soles of my feet. A profound sense of joy enveloped me—a mix of relief, accomplishment, and something deeper, more transcendent. Friends approached, concerned and curious. I showed them my unscathed feet, but words felt unnecessary.
As the evening progressed, I joined the communal feast—a celebration of unity and gratitude. Suddenly, I became aware of a searing pain in my feet. Fear gripped me, but as I returned to my mantra, “Lord, I do believe…”, the pain dissipated.
That night, attempting to sleep, I found myself entering an ecstatic state unlike anything I’d known. My body felt suspended, each cell pulsating with an intense, sensual energy. Thought ceased as I was consumed by pure rapture, an experience that lasted until I fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, I awoke to the rays of the sun, sensing that a new cycle of my life had begun.
Reflection and Transformation
This experience shattered my understanding of how the world works. It flung my life in unimaginable directions, igniting a yearning to re-experience that potent, overwhelming ecstasy. I became, as the Hindus describe, “God-intoxicated.”
Participating in the firewalk challenged my perceptions, beliefs, and the boundaries of my consciousness. It demonstrated the profound impact that ritual, community, and altered states of consciousness can have on an individual. The collective energy, the sensory overload, the spiritual fervor—all contributed to a transformation that was as psychological as it was spiritual.
In the years since, I’ve pondered the parallels between this experience and the ecstatic states reported in ancient mysteries like those at Eleusis. While separated by time, culture, and context, the underlying human capacity for profound transformation through ritual remains a common thread.
Exploring the Universal Themes
Anthropologically, rituals like firewalking serve as rites of passage, cleansing, or communion with the divine across various cultures. Psychologically, they can induce altered states of consciousness through sensory overload, rhythmic chanting, fasting, and sleep deprivation—mechanisms that can lead to trance states or ecstatic experiences.
My own journey aligns with theories of altered consciousness, where the combination of intense emotional arousal and physical exertion can lead to dissociation or trance. The communal aspect amplifies this effect, as the collective energy and expectations guide individual experiences.
Balancing the personal and analytical, I recognize that while my narrative is deeply subjective, it touches on universal human experiences—the search for meaning, the desire for connection with something greater, and the transformative power of ritual.
Conclusion
The firewalk in the Land of Lightning was more than a cultural immersion or an adventurous undertaking—it was a pivotal moment that reshaped my worldview. It revealed the profound capacity of the human psyche to transcend ordinary consciousness and access states of ecstasy and transformation.
This experience taught me that the boundaries between self and other, the mundane and the sacred, are permeable. It affirmed that, regardless of cultural or religious backgrounds, we share common threads in our quest for understanding, meaning, and connection.
The firewalk ignited a journey that continues to this day—a journey of exploration into the mysteries of consciousness, spirituality, and the human experience. It stands as a testament to the enduring power of ritual and the potential within each of us to undergo profound transformation.
Glossary of Terms
- Achamana: A purification ritual involving sipping water and ritual cleansing.
- Garagam Paalithalum: The making of the garagam, a ritual object adorned with leaves and flowers.
- Kumkum A red powder used for religious markings on the forehead.
- Lord Muruga: A Hindu deity associated with youth, power, and virtue, often invoked in rituals.
- Madurai Veeran: A folk deity revered as a protector and warrior.
- Manjal Naan Kaththalum: The tying of the yellow cord, a protective ritual for participants.
- Mariamman: A South Indian goddess associated with rain, fertility, and protection from disease.
- Pottu: The mark placed on the forehead over the third eye.
- Savitar: A solar deity representing the vivifying power of the sun.
- Thimithi: A Hindu firewalking ceremony performed as an act of worship, thanksgiving, or penance.
- Vel: The lance of Lord Muruga, symbolizing divine power.
- Vibuthi: Holy ash made from burnt cow dung, used in religious markings.
References and Further Reading
- Eliade, Mircea. Shamanism: Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy. Princeton University Press, 1964.
- Goodman, Felicitas D. Where the Spirits Ride the Wind: Trance Journeys and Other Ecstatic Experiences. Indiana University Press, 1990.
- Turner, Victor. The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. Aldine Transaction, 1995.- Winkleman, Michael. Altered States of Consciousness and Religious Behavior In The Handbook of Religious Experience, edited by Ralph W. Hood Jr., 393–428. Religious Education Press, 19