Despite the overcast sky clouding up last Saturday, N and I braved through the possibility of a rainstorm to re-visit Batu Caves. The religious ground sat in the northern, rocky terrains of KL. This would be the second time for the both of us to visit the place. We were both in school the last time we came here. The climb to the temples was a breeze for the eleven-year-old me. There was no fountain in sight, no fancy Indian restaurants and the monumental, gold-plated Lord Murugan definitely wasn’t there either. To see the son of Shiva standing loftily against the limestone background— all hundred-over meters of him— was simply astounding. Just imagine the many hands that carved the statue in remembrance of this god of war.
There’s a lot to be said about the main cave as well. With its gargantuan physique, the cave is largely overwhelming to many visitors. Regardless of its massiveness, Batu Caves presents a strong marriage between religion and nature that’s all great to learn from. Most beliefs are, in fact, connected to the natural landscapes around us. This limestone formation has been around for a couple of million years old, yet its Hindu connection only began in the late 1800s and is now a distinct pilgrimage site (if you’re wondering if any other groups of people found this sacred prior to that, you’re on the same boat as I am). Nevertheless, I can assure you that this is the place for any amateurish cavers to begin their journey. One can enjoy the beauty of Mother Nature’s artwork here while standing so close to the city and without a flashlight in hand. Sounds good, no?
Since the rain poured incessantly over our heads by the time we arrived, we took shelter at one of the restaurants and settled with banana leaf rice. That’s basically rice served on banana leaf, all fragrant and appetizing. We ate our rice with various vegetarian condiments and of course, curry. An endless choice of curry, that is, because you could have it as much as you want without upsetting the restaurateur. Nearby, a man sold heaps of fresh coconuts so we ordered one each. Scraping off the white flesh, and seeing the tiny bits swirling amidst the juice in the husk, felt good. Regrettably, the price of this classic Indian meal and the coconut drink was as steep as the stairs leading up to the caves. Sure, you could get cheaper and better-tasting rice in Brickfields but since we had no choice, this sure did its job. We needed all the carb for energy to make that climb possible anyway. We scraped our banana leaves clean and rose from the table.
Guess how many steps it took us to climb to the top? A whopping 272 steps altogether! This time, it wasn’t an easy climb for me, especially after all that rain. Not with my vertigo and progressing fear of heights. I had to take baby steps. I held on to the hand rail, albeit slightly on the grimy side, to make sure that I didn’t fall off backward. Each step was intense. There were also hundreds of monkeys roaming around, which only made the climb more of an ordeal. These furry chaps seemed fascinated by the sight of cameras and water bottles. One of them stood right in front of me, seemingly friendly, but only for a reason. It was actually trying to reach out for the camera hanging from my neck. The other scavenger expertly rummaged through N’s bag without him noticing and off it went with a bottle of Coke! Everybody who witnessed this scene laughed as the monkey swung from the nearby tree and gurgled down the drink, all relaxed. Life's indeed good for the little guy.
Alas, twenty minutes later, we finally reached the mouth of the cave safe and sound. You could see a picture-perfect view of KL from the top; it’s great to be surrounded by all that rocky nature with the bustling city only a stone’s throw away.
Look at how cavernous the entire place is. While mostly vacant, the place casts a different picture if you’re here during Thaipusam. In fact, the best time to visit Batu Caves is the beginning of the year when the colorful Hindu festival takes place. On that day, many Hindu devotees would gather in procession to celebrate Lord Murugan. Some would carry multicolored kavadis, those great wooden structures that they carry on top of their shoulders as they make their way up the staircase. Kavadis aside, some who partake might also have spears pierced through the skin on their backs and cheeks! All of these are symbolic of the burden that they willingly carry in the name of their Lord. Despite such pain, Thaipusam mostly carries a joyous fête of song and dance.
What you could find within the walls of this cave are gold statues of Hindu gods and a number of shrines tucked in the nooks and crannies. Nestled deep in the cave were two temples dedicated to Lord Murugan. They’re beautifully stunning, especially if you’re unfamiliar with how ornate Hindu temples can be. The carvings can be very intricate at times. We witnessed the priests cleaning up the spear of Lord Murugan with milk, honey and rose water among others, accompanied by a trance-like, meditative music flowing in the air. After the cleansing, one priest emerged to bless those who came for prayers.
If you think that caves are dark, this place would surprise you with the stream of sunlight coming through the rocks from one corner of its high-vaulted ceiling. It was a tree-lined gap that bathes the temple in light. The space was light, airy and calming. I especially loved the music played— it reminded me of baby elephants trumpeting in the jungle as depicted in old Bollywood films. Pretty comforting, I must say. We saw a funny scene involving a few Indian boys chasing down a chicken from the upper temple. The chicken ran into hiding in one of the many shrines and lost the boys eventually. Once the coast was clear, the chicken walked up to the musicians, quite cockily, and pranced around to the music. The boys saw this and the chase ensued.
Then it was time to move on. Another 272 steps to take down, another nerve-wrecking stint to endure. Miraculously, the monkeys seemed to have retreat to their trees and I made it to the ground at ease. We even took a photograph of us before we made our landing. We finally made it. Well, I finally made it, with vertigo and whatnot. Perhaps my little prayer was answered.
