Sabarimala's Unseen Challenge: Pilgrim Distress Over Neglected Bio-Toilets

Sabarimala, for millions, is more than just a pilgrimage; it's a profound spiritual odyssey, a testament of faith, often involving arduous treks through Kerala's beautiful, albeit challenging, terrain. Yet, beneath the veneer of devotion and spiritual fervor, a deeply troubling issue persists, casting a shadow over the entire experience: the lamentable state of the bio-toilets. It's a problem that, quite frankly, leaves many pilgrims feeling utterly disheartened and, well, frankly, quite disgusted.

Imagine this: after hours, sometimes even days, of arduous trekking, carrying your offerings, your body weary, you finally need to answer nature's call. You spot a designated bio-toilet, a beacon of modern convenience, a promise of relief. But what greets you instead? A scene that's anything but hygienic. We're talking about facilities that are, all too often, overflowing with waste, doors broken or missing, and a stench that alone is enough to turn your stomach. And here's the kicker – more often than not, there's not a single drop of water to be found, making the whole situation not just unsanitary but virtually unusable. It really makes you wonder about the basic provision of dignity.

And it's not just the grim state of individual units; the sheer lack of them, particularly in accessible spots along the main pathways, adds another layer of woe. Sabarimala attracts millions, especially during the Mandala-Makaravilakku season, and yet, the number of functional, clean toilets feels woefully inadequate. For the elderly, for women, for children, or for those with any kind of mobility issue – a long, often difficult trek just to find a usable lavatory can be agonizing, sometimes even an impossible feat. You know, when the call of nature is truly urgent, these shortcomings become incredibly pressing.

The inevitable, regrettable outcome? Pilgrims, left with no viable alternative, often resort to open defecation in the surrounding forests. This, sadly, pollutes the very ecosystem they've come to revere, including the sacred Pampa River – a place of ritualistic cleansing that now faces an ironic threat from human waste. Beyond the immediate discomfort and indignity for individuals, this widespread practice poses significant health risks, creating a breeding ground for diseases that could easily spread through the massive crowds. It's a recipe for disaster, plain and simple.

What makes this situation particularly frustrating is that it's hardly a new revelation. This isn't a one-off problem; it's a recurring narrative that resurfaces year after year, despite calls from devotees and environmental activists alike. The irony, perhaps, is that initiatives like 'Punyam Poonkavanam' exist precisely to preserve the sanctity and cleanliness of the pilgrimage, yet the core issue of basic sanitation continues to plague the experience. It feels like a fundamental disconnect between intention and execution.

Ultimately, for Sabarimala to truly uphold its spiritual essence, for the health and dignity of its millions of devotees, and for the preservation of its precious natural surroundings, a comprehensive, sustainable, and well-maintained sanitation solution is not just desired; it's absolutely imperative. This isn't just about building more toilets; it's about ensuring they are actually functional, regularly cleaned, supplied with water, and thoughtfully placed. It's time for decisive action, for the sake of faith, health, and the environment.