At the Summit of Faith and Symbolism: When a President Became a Pilgrim

On a crisp October morning, the forested slopes of the sacred hill-shrine of Sabarimala in Kerala welcomed a quiet but powerful moment: the nation’s President, Droupadi Murmu, ascended the 18 holy steps, carried the irumudi-kettu on her head and paused before the sanctum of Lord Ayyappa as a humble devotee. In that act, she became the first woman head of state of India to offer prayers at the hill-shrine. In doing so she threaded together devotion, gender milestone and constitutional symbolism in a single quiet pilgrimage.

The journey began at the Pamba base camp, where she dressed in a sober black saree, prepared the irumudi (the traditional bundle of offerings and pilgrimage gear), washed her feet in the river Pampa, and offered prayers at the Ganapati temple en-route. At mid-morning she reached the hill-temple, welcomed traditionally with a poorna kumbham (sacred pot) and then climbed the revered 18 steps. Each step evokes myth, devotion and the centuries-old trek of Ayyappa devotees. On her ascension she carried not just her own offering but the weight of many narratives: tradition and change, devotion and inclusion, office and personal faith.

Beyond its religious frame the visit pulses with layered meanings. Sabarimala has for years been at the crossroads of tradition and reform: debates on women’s entry, age-based restrictions, rights of devotion—all orbiting around the hill-shrines of Lord Ayyappa. By visiting the shrine as President, Murmu did more than perform a ritual: she enacted a moment of continuity and rupture. Continuity in that she followed every custom, every rite, nodding to the faith of millions of devotees. Rupture in that her presence as a woman office-holder dissolved a previous barrier not of law but of historical absence.

Within India’s larger social canvas, the visit is reflective: Murmu herself emerges from a tribal background, and now occupies the highest constitutional office. Her pilgrimage thus connects multiple trajectories—marginalised roots, women in leadership, and the cultural heart-spaces of India’s plural faith traditions. Five years after the Supreme Court’s landmark decision on the temple’s age-restricted entry rule, this pilgrimage signals a symbolic yet resonant turn. It says: the shrine is open, not just to all devotees, but to new meanings of empowerment.

Yet, the pilgrimage cannot be reduced to symbolism alone. Setting aside the photograph and the headline, the physical act matters. The 4.5-kilometre trek (in this case aided by vehicles), the strict protocol, the changing weather, the altitude—all frame the sheer physicality of devotion. Standing atop the hill, the President carried the weight of her irumudi-kettu, paused, made offerings, visited the Malikappuram temple and the Vavaruswami shrine, completing a circuit that echoes generations of pilgrims who carried hope, penance, longing.

The institutional frameworks were also in play. The temple authorities restricted general devotee access during her climb, security was heightened, and large parts of the route were cleared. The fact that such logistics were managed without major incident also reflects how tradition and administration can align when the moment demands. In public discourse this visit has already triggered reflections: on how high office interacts with faith; on what representation means when a woman walks to the top of a hill long trodden by men; on what it means for a nation that its President can climb 18 steps as devotee.

For Kerala and the shrine itself the visit adds a fresh page. Sabarimala remains one of India’s most visited pilgrimage sites, and with millions of devotees each year the shrine’s traditions ripple far beyond the hill-valley of the Western Ghats. The President’s visit amplifies that ripple: it invites a reconsideration of pilgrimhood as inclusive, leadership as service, and faith as living practice. The old walls of tradition stand—but the image of a woman President climbing them resonates as much as the bells of the temple.

Looking ahead, the pilgrimage raises questions that go beyond the day. Will this act translate into deeper institutional shifts in faith spaces? Will more women, more diverse devotees feel empowered to climb those steps? Will the intersection of high office and humble devotion produce new moments where symbols carry substance? The answers will take time, but the moment itself stands steady.

In the end, the visit to Sabarimala by President Murmu is not simply an event in a calendar. It is a pilgrimage in three dimensions: spiritual, symbolic and societal. It reminds us that the journey of faith can merge with the arcs of history, that the climb up the hill is also a climb in meaning. And for the shrine’s stones, the breeze of the hill, and the devotees standing at its base, the sight of a woman President climbing those 18 steps will endure.