The Sacred Tree of Maran
The road east was quiet, a ribbon of asphalt with hardly a car in
sight. Village dogs darted away from me, as if my sweat and dust
marked me as something otherworldly.
In Maran, I discovered the Sri Marathandavar Aalayam Hindu Temple,
built around the legend of a bleeding tree. The temple’s name means
“crossing the tree,” which refers to a sacred Rudraksha tree. If you’re
unfamiliar, Rudraksha seeds are traditionally used as prayer beads in
Hinduism, believed to turn negative energy into positive energy. Yogis
in India often wear these beads as holy talismans.
A fascinating legend surrounded the sacred tree: around 120 years
ago, as workers were constructing a road from Kuala Lumpur to
Kuantan, they encountered a tree that began bleeding as it was being
cut down. One worker fell into a trance, leading the crew to plead
with their supervisor to spare the tree. Surprisingly, before the
supervisor could dismiss their concerns, a child appeared on the tree
trunk and vanished into it. This astonishing sight left him utterly
dumbfounded (as can be expected), and he grudgingly agreed to halt
the destruction. The tree became revered, and though it's no longer
standing, its remains are preserved in the temple.
Dark clouds gathered, but the storm never came. I found shelter
overlooking a golf course, and celebrated the day with roti and curry.
Maran was a place where myth and daily life intertwined, where the
sacred lingered in the ordinary.