Kula Deivam Worship and The Bicycle Analogy

Some people ask:

"I don’t worship my kula deivam. I don’t perform rituals as my ancestors did. Yet, I seem to be living a better life. In fact, I am wealthier than those who continue their kula deivam worship. How is this possible?"

Maha Periyava once explained karma using the example of a bicycle, and the same can be applied here.

When you ride a bicycle, after pedalling for some time, the wheel continues to move even if you stop pedalling. You can still cover some distance without any effort because of the momentum you already built up.

This is your present life. You may not worship your kula deivam, but your ancestors did so sincerely and wholeheartedly. 

The blessings and fruits of their devotion are what you are enjoying now. The “bicycle” is still moving because they pedalled hard for you.

But remember...no bicycle can keep moving forever without pedalling. Eventually, it slows down. 

In the same way, if you do not continue your kula deivam worship, the blessings will diminish, and your children or grandchildren may suffer the loss.

So, the responsibility falls on you, not only to enjoy the smooth ride but also to “start pedalling” again. 

Your worship today ensures that the cycle of blessings continues for future generations.

Don't Just Grab a Plate: Virunthu vs Annadhanam

Sri Muniswarar temple at Jalan Baru, Prai. 
Image Source: Penang Travel Tips

Temples are amazing places. They're for praying, but they're also where all kinds of events happen. From huge public festivals to small, private family events, there's always something going on. And with all those events comes food. But not all temple food is the same, and knowing the difference can save you a whole lot of awkwardness.

Think of temple events in two simple categories:

Private Events: These are booked by families for their personal ceremonies, like an ear-piercing, an engagement, or a wedding. They rent the hall and pay for everything.

Public Events: These are things everyone's invited to, like common prayers or big festivals like tiruvizha. When you go to these, the food served afterward is for anyone and everyone.

The food at these events also has two names, and this is where it gets important:

Virunthu: This is the food served at a private event. It's paid for by the host for their invited guests. You don't just show up and grab the briyani unless you were on the guest list.

Annadhanam: This is the food served for the public. It's meant for anyone who wants to eat, no invitation needed. This is the food you can freely enjoy after a common prayer or during a big public festival like tiruvizha.

Here's the problem: A lot of people see food at a temple and just assume it's annadhanam, for the public. But that’s not always the case, and it's a huge mistake.

Picture this....You go to a Mariamman temple on a Saturday morning. You see a family conducting ear pericing ceremony with a big group of relatives, and there’s food in the hall. You might think, “Oh, free breakfast!” But you'd be wrong. That’s a virunthu. That family booked the hall and paid for all that food for their guests. Walking in and eating would be like crashing their event.

So next time you're at a temple and you see food, take a second. Is it a public event, or does it look like a private family function? Don't just assume every meal is a public offering. Respect the people who paid for the food and the guests they invited.

I've been going to temples for years, and I've never had a single issue with food because I stick to a simple rule: I only eat if I'm specifically invited to an event or if the host makes it clear it's an annadhanam for everyone. 

It’s a simple courtesy that shows respect for both the temple and the people who use it.

Kula Deivam Worship: The 21 Panthi and 63 Senai Tradition - Part I

 

The Vilayuthamudaya Ayyanar temple of Kochadai, Madurai.This temple houses many kula deivams such as Muthiahsamy, Agni Veerabadrar, Karuppayi Amman, Sangilikaruppu, Kaluvadikaruppu, Meiyandi Amman, Nagappasamy, Sannasisamy, Aadipoosari, Pechiamman, Muthukaruppusamy, Irulappasamy, Veeranasamy, Rakkayi Amman, Irulayee Amman, Chappani Karuppu, Sonaisamy, Muniyandisamy and Badrakali Amman.
Image Credit: Tamil Nadu Tourism

The southern districts of Tamil Nadu, preserve a unique system of kula deivam (clan deity) worship known as “21 Panthi, 63 Senai.” In this tradition, the kula deivam of a family is usually one among the deities in the panthi structure. Families that trace their roots to this region often belong to one of these lineages.

A panthi is a cluster of deities led by a chief deity. Different types of panthis exist, such as the Gurunathan Panthi, Ayyanar Panthi and Karuppanasamy Panthi. Each panthi has a presiding deity who is supported by a number of manthiri deivam (minister deities). 

The number of ministers may differ, with some panthis having five while others have seven. Each minister is accompanied by more deities, and together they make up a group of 21 deities that represent 21 family bloodlines of the region. 

A sample Gurunathan Panthi may look like this:

Presiding deity: Gurunathan (Shiva-Dakshinamurthy)

1. Sanggili Karuppar
2. Chinna Karuppar
3. Periya Karuppar
4. Agni Veeran
5. Madurai Veeran
6. Tottiyathuchinnu
7. Ayyanar
8. Muthaiah
9. Lada Sannasi
10. Bhairavar
11. Sudalai Madan
12. Irulappar
13. Sonaiyar
14. Sappani
15. Muniyandi
16. Kaliamman
17. Pechiamman
18. Rakkayiamman
19. Irulayiamman
20. Tottichiamman
21. Karupayiamman

In addition to the panthi deities, there are parivara deivam (attendant deities) that forms the senai. Each panthi deivam will have 3 attendants and their total number across the system is 63. These attendants play an important role in rituals and offerings by serving the 21 kula deivams of the panthi, thus forming the wider circle of the temple’s sacred order.

It is important to note that there are some variations in which deities are included in the panthi, and this differs from place to place . What remains common is the structure of 21 main deities and 63 attendants.

I am currently gathering more detailed information on this system of worship and will share further insights in the future. If you have any information from your ancestral village, feel free to share in the comments section.

Muniswaran Worship - Part II

I first wrote about Muniswaran worship in my blog in 2013. After a long interval, I have decided to revisit the subject and add further details. My intention is to provide a deeper understanding of the traditions, origins, and symbolism surrounding the Munis, which I believe will be valuable for devotees of Ayya and those interested in the wider practice of folk guardianship in Tamil culture.

While Muniandy is often regarded as simply another name for Muniswaran, or perhaps an older form of the name, certain temples preserve a different understanding. For example, at the Sri Maha Athi Muneeswarar Temple in Sentul, Muniandy is revered as the guardian or munnadiyan of the presiding deity Athi Muniswaran. This form is also called Nondi Muniyandi, and it parallels other munnadiyan figures such as Nondi Karuppar, Nondi Sonaiyar, Nondi Samayan, and Nondi Veeran.
Image source Sri Maha Athi Muneeswarar Temple

Before proceeding further, I recommend reading the following two articles to gain a clearer understanding of Muniswaran Worship – Part II.

1. Muniswaran Worship - Part I
2. The Munnadiyaan as Kshetrapala in Tamil Folk Tradition

Muniswarans in Northern Tamil Nadu

The famous 7 Muniswarans.
Image source: Sree Pachaiamman Temple Tiruvannamalai

The most common names for Muni guardians are Muniswaran, Muniyappan, and Munisamy. Their origins are often traced back to the Sapta Muniswarans (7 Muniswarans) who descended to protect Goddess Pachaiamman. In some traditions, they are regarded as folk versions of the Sapta Rishis. 

The iconography of the Munis in the northern districts typically depicts them in a seated position, holding a sword in the right hand and at times, a shield or other weapons. Some are also shown with a trident while seated. Even in Bangalore, the Munis are popularly addressed as Muniswarans. The Sapta Muniswarans are usually depicted in different colours. 

Muniswarans in Southern Tamil Nadu

Muniyandi of Alanganallur.
Image credit: Alanganallur Muniyandi Swami

In the southern districts, the most common names for the Muni guardians are Muniyandi and Muniayya, although Muniswaran is also used, possibly due to recent influence.

There are three main traditions regarding the origins of Muni worship in the south:

1. Muniyandi of Alanganallur – Said to be of Malayalam (Kerala) origin. According to folklore, he was placed inside a box and set afloat in the river. A poor family found him, raised him, and later, their descendants deified him, becoming the hereditary priests of his temple.

2. Paandi Muni – A couple once dreamt of a Muni who revealed that he was the former Pandya king Neduncheliyan. They unearthed his idol buried in the ground and began to worship him, establishing his temple.

3. Mottai Gopuram Muniandy – Rooted in Madurai folklore. During the divine wedding of Meenakshi and Sundareswarar (Shiva), many bhutas attended. After the ceremony, most returned, but Shiva and Meenakshi requested one chief bhuta, a powerful guardian, to remain in Madurai. He became the guardian of the northern tower (Mottai Gopuram) of the temple. Currently he is known as Maha Muniswarar.

In contrast to the north, most of the southern Munis are usually shown in a standing position, holding an aruval (sickle) or a club in the right hand, and a trident in the left.

Muniswaran in Jainism and Buddhism

12th century CE statue of Manjushri, the Buddhist Bodhisattva of wisdom. It was reportedly stolen from a temple near Bodh Gaya in Bihar. It was displayed at the Ackland Art Museum, University of North Carolina. 

Image Credit: Firstport

Some of the Munis worshipped today as Muniswaran may have roots in Jain and Buddhist traditions. Take a look at the statue of Manjushri above. If we add a thick moustache, he could easily pass off as a Tamil village guardian deity! Makes you wonder if some of the guardian gods we worship today as Muniswaran were once part of the Buddhist pantheon.

As noted earlier in Part I, the word Muni simply means “sage” or “mendicant.” It is widely used across both religions. The Buddha himself is often called Śākya Muni (the Sage of the Śākya clan), and Jainism also speaks of numerous Munis and ascetic teachers.

Main Deity at Pandi Temple is Buddha, Claims Archaeologist.
Click here to read full article by The New Indian Express.

Abishegam being done for Paandi Muniswarar

A striking detail is that certain Muniswarans are portrayed as vegetarians. In Tamil folk tradition, guardian spirits are usually offered blood sacrifices and meat. However, some Munis are honored in a more saintly, ascetic manner, resembling Jain and Buddhist monks. Both Jainism and Buddhism prohibit animal sacrifice and offerings of meat, which could explain this divergence in practice.

There is also a Jain Tīrthaṅkara known as Munisuvrata, whose name resonates with the title Muniswaran. This points to possible shared etymological or cultural connections between Jain saints and the folk Munis of South India.

The term Munīśvara (lord of mendicants) is found in classical Jain literature. For example, in the 11th-century Jñānārṇava, a treatise on Jain Yoga by Śubhacandra, Munīśvaras are mentioned as enlightened ascetics who have destroyed delusion (kṣīṇamohair munīśvaraiḥ). They are described as authorities on meditation, preserving teachings found in the Pūrvas and Aṅgas.

“The fourfold division (of meditation) is explained by the lords of mendicants (munīśvara), who are free of delusion. Even so, no one today is capable of describing more than a fraction of it.” (Jñānārṇava)

The name Munīśvara also appears in Jain lineage records. In the Bṛhadgaccha-gurvāvalī, a text preserving the teacher-lineages of the Jain community, we find mention of Munīśvara Sūri. These records provide details such as his literary contributions, image consecrations, and even his participation in debates with non-Jains.

Such references suggest that the name Munīśvara was widely used among ascetic teachers in Jainism. The title “Munīśvara” was already a mark of high ascetic authority in Jainism. Over time, it may have merged with Tamil folk frameworks, where spirits and guardians were localized and worshipped.

The name similarity with Munisuvrata Tīrthaṅkara further strengthens the idea of shared religious vocabulary and cultural borrowing.

The Symbolism of Vegetarian Muniswarans

The fierce and non-vegetarian bali devata Samaya Karuppar of Paandi Muniswarar temple, Madurai.
Image source: finding god within

The vegetarian Muniswarans in Tamil tradition may represent an overlay of Jain and Buddhist ascetic ideals onto older folk guardian practices. For example, the idol of Paandi Muniswaran is believed to represent a Buddhist or Jain monk, which explains his veneration as a vegetarian deity. 

In keeping with this ascetic character, Paandi Muniswaran himself does not receive animal sacrifices or meat offerings. Instead, such offerings are directed to his companion and protector, Samaya Karuppar, who fulfills the fierce guardian role. This dual arrangement reflects the blending of ascetic traditions with folk practices, where the saintly figure embodies restraint while the protector channels the community’s need for powerful and aggressive guardianship.

The Muniswarar of the famous Jalan Baru Muniswarar Temple, Prai is a vegetarian deity. The blood sacrifice and non-vegetarian offerings are given to Madurai Veeran who stands opposite of him as his munnadiyan. This temple was formerly known as Sri Muniyandi Temple.

In some cases, vegetarian Muniswarans could have been modelled on Ayyanar (Dharma Śāstā), since Ayyanar himself is often regarded as a vegetarian deity that functions as the chief of other guardian deities. This overlap is especially evident in the southern districts, where certain Muniswarans such as Dharma Muniswaran are worshipped as saintly guardians.

These vegetarian Muniswarans of southern districts are often accompanied by a Karuppar who serves as their protector deity. For example, while Paandi Muniswaran of Madurai has Samaya Karuppar, the Dharma Muniswaran of Koorankottai has Sangili Karuppar as his protector. 

The history of Koorankottai Dharma Muniswarar.

This pairing closely mirrors the traditional relationship of Dharma Śāstā and Karuppar or even Buddhism's Avalokitesvara and Mahakala, Manjushri and Achala, where the Muniswaran embodies dharma and restraint while Karuppar functions as his fierce enforcer and his violent emanation.  

The symbolism suggests a continuity of village religious imagination in which compassion and ferocity are balanced by assigning complementary roles to deities.

I will continue to share further insights on Muniswaran worship whenever I come across new information, so that this living tradition can be better understood and appreciated.

The Munnadiyaan as Kshetrapala in Tamil Folk Tradition

The munnadiyaan in Jalan Baru Muniswarar temple, Prai, Penang.
Picture credit Theiva Darisanam.

The Tamil term muṉṉaṭiyāṉ (munnadiyaan), once widely recognized but now less commonly used, derives from Muṉṉāṭi (munnaadi), meaning “ahead” or "in front". Munnadiyaans are male guardian deities positioned at the forefront of temples, functioning as protectors similar to the Sanskritic kṣetrapāla (kshetrapala) or even dvārapāla (dvarapala). They are typically portrayed as fierce companions of the temple’s presiding deity, embodying vigilance, martial prowess, and protective energy. Their role is to protect the premise and also function as doorkeepers.

It is widely believed that before any activity is carried out within the temple, one must first seek the guidance and permission of the munnadiyaan. This ritual acknowledgment reaffirms his role as the guardian of the sacred space, ensuring that the proceedings take place under his watchful protection.

In Tamil tradition, ritual offerings such as male goats and roosters are made to the munnadiyaans, reflecting their non-vegetarian associations and deep folk roots. A notable example can be found at the Jalan Baru Sri Muniswarar Temple (formerly Sri Muniandy Temple) in Prai, Penang, where Veeran serves as the temple’s munnadiyaan. While the presiding deity, Muniswarar, receives only vegetarian padaiyal (food offering), Veeran continues to be honored with liquor, cigars, and non-vegetarian offerings. These practices maintain his role as a fierce folk guardian.

Munnadiyaan iconography in southern Tamil Nadu is also distinguished by the warrior stance with one leg bent in a kneeling position. This posture is reflected in figures such as Nondi Veeran and Nondi Karuppanasamy in Tamil Nadu. 

Although references to munnadiyaan deities have diminished in contemporary discourse, their presence highlights the enduring vitality of Tamil folk traditions within the broader framework of Hindu temple worship. 

You can also see variations of munnadiyan in ancient temples of Southeast Asia. Although these are local guardians, their iconography is strikingly similar.

A munnadiyaan in the 9th century Buddhist temple of Plaosan, Java, Indonesia.
Image credit: Gunkarta

A munnadiyaan at the Kraton of Surakarta, Indonesia.
Image credit: Norhendra Ruslan

Regional Traditions of Munnadiyaan Worship

The identity of the munnadiyaan often varies by region, reflecting local histories, community needs, and folk memory.

Southern Districts (Madurai, Sivagangai, Ramanathapuram):
In these areas, the most common munnadiyaan is Karuppanasamy, who appears in many localized forms such as Nondi Karuppar, Nondi Sonaiyar, Sappani Karuppar, and Munnodi Karuppar. Karuppanasamy is often regarded as the fierce enforcer of justice, punisher of wrongdoers, and protector of sacred spaces. His fierce visage, weaponry, and uncompromising nature make him an ideal guardian in the role of munnadiyaan.

Delta Districts (Thanjavur, Tiruvarur):

In the fertile delta regions, the figure of Veeran dominates the role of munnadiyaan. Here, Veeran is worshipped in various manifestations including Nondi Veeran and the legendary Madurai Veeran. He is celebrated more as a warrior-protector, embodying valor, sacrifice, and loyalty. His cult in the delta region reflects the blending of martial hero worship with temple guardianship, reinforcing the connection between folk heroes and divine protectors.

These regional distinctions highlight the adaptability of the munnadiyaan concept, where the protective role is embodied not by a single figure but through diverse local forms, each carrying the flavor of community belief and history.

Munnadiyaan and the Role of Kshetrapala

The idea of the kshetrapala (literally “guardian of the sacred field or territory”) is deeply rooted in Hindu temple tradition. Every temple, whether grand or modest, is believed to require a protector who stands guard at its thresholds, ensuring that only the worthy may enter and safeguarding the sanctity of the space. 

Kala Bhairava. Picture credit Kaga Ashram

In the Hindu tradition of Saivism, this role is often associated with Kala Bhairava, a fierce form of Śiva, who serves as the ultimate guardian of sacred precincts. 

Munnadiyaan therefore function as the folk equivalent of the kshetrapala. Like Bhairava, they are fierce liminal beings who protect boundaries between sacred and profane, purity and pollution, safety and danger. Their positioning at the outer peripheries of temples reflects this liminality. 

The Question of Mantras

In Tamil folk traditions, munndiyaan worship is rarely accompanied by elaborate Sanskrit mantra recitations. Instead, rituals are performed through offerings, folk songs known as varnippu, and invocations passed down orally. It is possible that mantras once existed but were gradually forgotten as folk traditions evolved separately. The worship of the munnadiyaan has focused more on lived devotion and ritual offering than textualized prayer.

For practitioners who wish to integrate mantra-based worship today, one approach is to use mantras dedicated to Kala Bhairava, as he is the classical kshetrapala. Since the munnadiyans embodies the same protective function, Bhairava mantras can be invoked as a way of aligning folk practice with broader Hindu traditions. Commonly used Bhairava mantras carry the essence of protection, removal of obstacles, and boundary-keeping. These are all qualities mirrored by the munnadiyaan.

Contemporary Popular Tradition

A striking parallel emerges in popular culture through the Kannada film Kantara, where the benevolent deity Panjurli is accompanied by the fierce Guliga. In the narrative, Guliga exemplifies the archetype of a munnadiyaan; uncompromising, merciless towards wrongdoers, and unwavering in his guardianship. 

In the movie, the deity Guliga is dramatically awakened when one of the villains smashes the protagonist’s head against the stone that represents him. The impact causes blood to flow and stain the stone, which symbolically functions as an offering. 

Panjurli and Guliga. Picture credit Harsha Kaveripura.

In many South Indian folk traditions, blood sacrifice or accidental bloodshed is believed to activate the deity’s presence, marking it as both an offering and a sign of appeasement. The cinematic choice to show Guliga awakened in this way ties back to the wider understanding of guardian deities who require offerings to manifest their protective and destructive powers. This portrayal underscores the timeless cultural significance of munnadiyaans or kshetrapalas and their role in safeguarding spiritual spaces across South India.

Although the term munnadiyaan is less commonly heard today, the concept persists across Tamil and other South Indian diaspora communities, and popular imagination. Whether in the form of Karuppanasamy in the southern districts, Veeran in the delta regions, or cinematic representations like Guliga, these guardian deities remind us of the enduring strength of folk spirituality where protection, vigilance, and devotion remain at the heart of worship.

Relevant articles:

1. How To Find Your Kula Deivam?
2. Muniswaran Worship
3. Can Devatas of Grand Temples Also Be Kula Devatas?

Making Deities Black? Check the Symbolism First

Image Credit: Andonious "Smo-G/A3V" Vassiliadis

In today's world, a noticeable trend has emerged within certain members of the Hindu community. Many images of deities are increasingly being painted in darker complexions. This practice is often explained as an act of equality and a gesture of standing against racism, since darker skin tones have historically been associated with social hierarchies and prejudice. 

While the intention behind this trend is admirable, the practice itself raises important questions. Are Hindu deities truly meant to be imagined in a single skin tone, regardless of scripture? Or is there a deeper reason why they have been traditionally described and visualized in a wide spectrum of colours? 

The truth is that the colours of Hindu deities are not chosen arbitrarily, nor are they reflections of racial identity. Instead, each deity is described in scriptural verses known as dhyāna ślokas, which prescribe their form, complexion, posture, and attributes for meditation. These descriptions serve a very specific spiritual purpose. 

They are designed to act as symbolic anchors for the mind, enabling the practitioner to meditate on the qualities and powers embodied by that deity. To paint every deity in the same complexion in the name of social equality may unintentionally overlook the profound metaphysical wisdom that these colours represent. 

Colours as Spiritual Language 

In the Hindu tradition, colour is a sacred language. Each shade embodies a quality, a mood, and an energy that helps the devotee establish a connection with the divine. The dhyāna ślokas, which appear in various scriptures, are essentially poetic visualizations that guide the imagination during meditation. By holding the prescribed image in the mind, the practitioner is able to internalize the attributes of the deity and move closer to spiritual realization. 

For example, in the Lalitā Sahasranāma and its associated texts, Goddess Lalita Tripurasundarī is envisioned as having a complexion the colour of vemilion and glowing with golden radiance. This description is not symbolic of race but of energy. Her reddish hue reflects her fiery creative force, her embodiment of passion transformed into divine bliss, and her role as the supreme source of cosmic creation. A devotee meditating on her form is not simply imagining a goddess of a particular skin tone but is invoking the energy of divine creativity. 

sindūrāruṇavigrahāṁ trinayanāṁ māṇikyamaulisphurat

tārānāyakaśēkharāṁ smitamukhīmāpīnavakṣōruhām .

pāṇibhyāmalipūrṇaratnacaṣakaṁ raktōtpalaṁ vibhratīṁ

saumyāṁ ratnaghaṭastharaktacaraṇāṁ dhyāyētparāmambikām

By contrast, Goddess Mātangī, one of the Mahāvidyās, is described as having the deep green complexion of an emerald. She is the patroness of inner wisdom, music, and unconventional knowledge. Her green form symbolizes the fertile abundance of nature as well as the hidden mysteries that flourish outside the boundaries of conventional order. Meditating on her prescribed colour is meant to awaken inner wisdom and unconventional insight. 

Goddess Matangi also known as Syamala. Image Credit: matangidevi 

Lord Muruga, also known as Kartikeya or Subramanya, is often described with a radiant red complexion. His hue represents youthful vigour, courage, and martial energy. His prescribed colour becomes a focus point in meditation, allowing devotees to internalize bravery, vitality, and divine protection. 

Thus, when scriptures prescribe a colour, they are giving practitioners a map for meditation. Each colour corresponds not to race, but to rasa, the essence of the deity’s spiritual power. 

The Buddhist Parallel 

This symbolism is not confined to Hinduism alone. In Buddhist traditions, especially within Vajrayana  practices, deities and bodhisattvas are also painted in specific colours. Each colour embodies a quality of enlightenment and serves as a meditative focus for practitioners. 

For instance, Amitābha Buddha is red, symbolizing compassion and the fire of transformation. Akṣobhya Buddha is blue, representing immovable stability and clarity of mind. Ratnasambhava is yellow, symbolizing generosity and abundance. Vairocana is white, representing purity and the all-encompassing nature of the dharmakāya. Amoghasiddhi is green, signifying accomplishment and fearlessness. 

Just as in Hinduism, these colours are not racial features but meditative codes. They serve as precise instructions for practitioners to focus their minds and embody the qualities of the enlightened state. 

The 5 meditational Buddhas in different colours. Image Credit: tibetanbuddhistencyclopedia

Why Colours Matter in Meditation 

When a devotee sits for meditation, the human mind needs a form to concentrate upon. Without a form, the mind wanders. The dhyāna śloka provides that form, complete with colour, ornaments, posture, and symbolic weapons. By following this prescription, the practitioner engages all senses and channels them towards spiritual realization. The colour of the deity plays a crucial role in this process. Red ignites energy and passion, green induces harmony and growth, blue represents vastness and depth, and white evokes purity and clarity. If all deities were painted in the same skin tone, these meditative distinctions would collapse, and the practitioner would lose an important tool for inner transformation. 

Colours also corresponds to our chakras. Image credit: mindvalley

The Question of Black Stone Mūrtis 

A common counterpoint that may arise is that most South Indian temples house deities carved from black granite or other materials. Does this not mean that the deities were always meant to be imagined as dark-skinned? What about statues made from brass? Does that mean the deities are also brown?

The answer lies in understanding the distinction between temple ritual practice and scriptural meditation practice. 

The mūrtis in temples were never intended to be the primary tools of meditation. Their primary purpose was to serve as living embodiments of the deity for abhiṣegam (ritual bathing), ceremonial worship, and festivals. Granite and other materials such as brass were chosen because of their durability, their ability to withstand constant ritual bathing with milk, water, ghee, turmeric, and sandalwood paste, and their natural sanctity as materials considered fit for consecration. 

Image credit: IBC Bakthi

When covered with milk, sandalwood paste, turmeric, or vibhuti (sacred ash), these mūrtis would not even appear black but would take on the colours of the substances used in worship. This shows that the stone’s natural colour was not meant to define the deity’s complexion, but rather to provide a suitable medium for ritual. 

The dhyāna śloka descriptions, on the other hand, belong to a different sphere altogether. They prescribe the form, colour, and attributes of the deity specifically for meditation. While the murti anchors the ritual, the meditative visualization anchors the mind. Both are valid, but they serve distinct purposes. Confusing the two can lead to misunderstandings about why a deity is described in a certain complexion in scripture. 

The Misunderstanding of Equality 

In the modern Hindu context, the trend of painting all deities with dark complexions is motivated by a noble sentiment. It seeks to challenge colourism and the social prejudice that often accompanies lighter or darker skin in human society. However, when this sentiment is extended into the sphere of religious iconography, it risks overshadowing the deeper scriptural intent. 

Image credit: tiethethali

Equality in Hindu thought does not mean uniformity. Instead, it means seeing the divine in all forms and understanding that all qualities, whether fiery red or tranquil green, belong to the same cosmic reality. By preserving the distinct colours of each deity, we do not promote inequality. Rather, we affirm the diversity of divine expression and allow each form to speak its unique spiritual language. 

Preserving Scriptural Integrity 

To understand why the preservation of prescribed colours is important, one must return to the scriptures themselves. The dhyāna ślokas are not artistic preferences but meditative instructions. They have been recited, preserved, and transmitted for centuries because they carry precise spiritual significance. Changing them arbitrarily in the name of social messaging diminishes their potency. 

If a devotee wishes to meditate on Lalita Tripurasundarī, they are instructed to imagine her as red, glowing like the sun. If they imagine her in another form, the results of the meditation may not align with the intended energy described in the scriptures. 

Similarly, imagining Matangi as emerald-green is an invitation to embrace unconventional wisdom, while focusing on Muruga’s radiant red form awakens courage and energy. These colours are not matters of choice but matters of spiritual precision. 

Muniswarans of Pachaiamman temple, Tiruvannamalai. They are represented in different colours.

Towards a Balanced Understanding 

It is important to clarify that acknowledging the symbolic colours of deities does not invalidate the movement against racism. The fight against social prejudice is essential, and celebrating darker skin tones in human society is an important step toward equality. However, the mistake lies in confusing human social realities with divine symbolism. 

Deities are not meant to be representations of human race. They are embodiments of cosmic qualities, and their colours are metaphors for energies far beyond the human realm. Instead of reducing every deity to a single complexion, a better approach would be to educate devotees about the symbolic significance of colours. 

By doing so, we can celebrate diversity both in human identity and in divine representation. In fact, when devotees learn why Lalita is vermilion-red, why Matangi is green, and why Muruga is red, they come to appreciate the immense depth of the tradition. 

Image credit: enlightenmentthangka

Image credit: enlightenmentthangka

Conclusion 

The trend of painting all Hindu deities in darker skin tones may stem from a well-intentioned desire to fight racism, but it risks obscuring the profound spiritual symbolism of colour in Hindu and Buddhist traditions. Each deity is described in scripture with a specific complexion, not as an indication of race, but as a key to meditation. 

Colours in this context are not social markers but spiritual codes. They are the language through which the infinite communicates with the human mind. To honour this wisdom, it is important to preserve the scriptural descriptions of deities and to understand their significance. 

True equality is not about making everything look the same, but about recognizing the divinity in all forms and colours. In the realm of the sacred, colour is not a boundary but a bridge, guiding the practitioner from the outer form to the inner essence, from meditation to realization.

Chola Warlords: Who Were the Paluvettaraiyars?

Ponniyin Selvan I movie poster showing actor Sarathkumar as Periya Paluvettaraiyar and actor Parthiban as Chinna Paluvettaraiyar.

In 2024, Oxford University Press published Minor Majesties: The Paluvēṭṭaraiyars and Their South Indian Kingdom of Paluvūr, 9th–11th Centuries A.D., a groundbreaking study by historian Valerie Gillet. In the book’s opening chapter, A Tentative Biography of the Paluvettaraiyars, Gillet delves into the lineage and origins of this influential family. 

These Chola warlords traced their lineage to the formidable Maravars, an ancient warrior tribe renowned for their valor. However, I believe that while the Paluvettaraiyars were indeed of Maravar descent, they likely forged alliances through intermarriage with those of the Kallar and Agambadiyar clans, further solidifying their power and influence.

Prominent figures in the medieval Chola era, the Paluvettaraiyars played a pivotal role in shaping the empire’s political and military landscape. Through strategic marriages with the Chola royal family and their service as administrators and commanders, they cemented their power, leaving a lasting imprint on South Indian history.

For a deeper insight into their fascinating legacy, I have included the first chapter of the book for your reading below.