1950 Sabarimala Fire A Historic Desecration in the Sacred Hills"

"Swamiye Saranam Ayyappa!"

Even today, millions of devotees from across India undertake a rigorous pilgrimage to Sabarimala, walking barefoot through dense forests, braving wild terrain and harsh weather, to get a glimpse of Lord Ayyappa — the celibate warrior deity, seated in eternal meditation.

But buried in the sacred silence of these hills lies a dark secret.

An unsolved mystery.

A fire.

A desecration.

An event that shook not just a temple, but the faith of an entire generation.

This is the forgotten story of the 1950 Sabarimala Temple Arson — a crime so shocking, it still remains officially unsolved. Let’s travel back to that fateful year...

The year was 1950. India was a newly independent country, still stitching together its fragmented princely states. Kerala, as we know it today, didn’t exist. The area was then part of Travancore-Cochin, governed by Paravoor TK Narayana Pillai, the last prime minister of Travancore and the first chief minister of the newly formed state.

Sabarimala was not the bustling pilgrimage site it is now. Back then, it was a remote shrine, tucked deep inside the forests of the Western Ghats. The journey to the temple was perilous — no roads, no shelters, no human habitation for at least 20 kilometers. The forests teemed with wild animals, including bison which were legally hunted at the time. Only the most devoted pilgrims dared to trek there.

Discovery of the Desecration

On 14 June 1950, when the temple priest or Santhikaran arrived at Sabarimala for the monthly puja, he was greeted by a horrifying sight.

The sanctum sanctorum (Sreekovil) — where Lord Ayyappa resided — had been reduced to ashes. The roof was gone. The Mandapam lay in charred ruins. Blackened walls whispered of a fire that had raged unchecked.

But the most devastating sight awaited within.

The idol of Lord Ayyappa — the very object of crores of people's devotion — lay broken. Deep axe marks disfigured the face and forehead. The sanctified brass-plated door of the Sreekovil bore 15 heavy axe strikes — violent, purposeful, hateful.

At first glance, people suspected a theft. But all the temple ornaments — the conch, the edakka drum, utensils — were untouched.

No gold or silver had been stolen.

This was no robbery.

This was deliberate desecration.

The Investigation Begins

The government of Travancore-Cochin took this attack seriously. Public outrage spread fast. The government assigned the task of investigating this sacrilegious crime to a highly respected police officer: K. Kesava Menon, Deputy Inspector General of Police from the Madras Presidency.

Menon arrived at the scene — only to find that precious evidence had already been lost.

The fire was suspected to have occurred in May 1950, but it wasn’t officially reported until 17 June — almost 20 days later.

Worse, monsoon rains had already begun. Ashes, footprints, and other possible clues had been washed away.

Still, Menon compiled a detailed 38-page report, trying to piece together what had happened in those mysterious weeks.

His conclusion?

This was not a random act.

It was premeditated arson with religious motives.

Clues Amidst the Ashes

The investigation uncovered several disturbing clues:

An abandoned kerosene lantern.

Ghee tins and cloth, likely used as accelerants to set the fire.

Signs of prolonged occupation inside the temple — someone had lived there for days.

Provisions had been consumed. Shelves had been rearranged.

The Sreekovil had items intact after the fire, suggesting that someone entered the temple again — perhaps even used it — after the destruction.

It was as if the perpetrators camped inside the temple, burned it down, and lingered — unafraid, undisturbed.

How had no one seen them?

How did they escape?

The Surrounding Landscape

To understand how such a crime went unnoticed, we must look at the geography.

The closest human settlement was not a village, but Mount Estate — part of the Vandiperiyar route. These estates, and most surrounding areas, were predominantly Christian-owned. These communities controlled access to the forest paths, making it difficult for any group, especially Hindus, to pass unnoticed.

During that time, the only Hindu group known to be in the forest was a band of forest produce gatherers — coolies — employed by a contractor named Syed Muhamed of Pathanamthitta. Led by a man named Pappi Podiyan, they had moved through Nilakkal and Kollamuzhi, setting up temporary shelters.

Their timing coincided with the post-fire period. Yet, no direct evidence ever linked them to the arson.

Obstacles and Suspicion

The probe quickly hit a wall.

Key witnesses went missing.

A wandering tribal from the Malayan Pandaran community disappeared.

A forest guard suspected of involvement refused to cooperate.

Several officials in the forest department were suspected of complicity. But no confessions, no fingerprints, no hard evidence ever surfaced.

Even more frustratingly, by the time Kesava Menon officially took over on 8 September 1950, the earlier half-hearted investigations had warned the culprits — giving them enough time to cover their tracks.

The officer listed three reasons why the case could not be solved:

1. Delayed reporting meant rains had washed away evidence.

2. Emotional trauma of first responders made eyewitness accounts unreliable.

3. Delayed takeover of investigation gave the accused time to escape justice.

Communal Tensions & Government Inaction

Whispers of communal motives behind the attack began circulating. Some saw it as an attack not just on a temple, but on a belief system.

Records reveal that nine temples had been desecrated in the six months prior to the Sabarimala fire. Five cases were solved and arrests made.

One individual named Poothuran Yohanan, also known as Kodaliswami of Thalayolaparambu, was arrested earlier in connection to other temple attacks.

Despite these precedents, the government chose not to aggressively pursue the Sabarimala case.

Why?

Most historians believe the reason was political caution. The region was communally sensitive. Communal riots could easily be triggered. The government likely feared that pursuing the case would inflame religious tensions.

When the first elected Communist government came to power under EMS Namboodiripad, they declared that the inquiry report existed, but that there was insufficient evidence to frame charges in court.

And just like that... the case was shelved.

Conclusion

74 years have passed since that mysterious fire.

The Sabarimala temple was rebuilt. The new idol of Lord Ayyappa was consecrated. The pilgrimage resumed. Faith returned — stronger than ever.

But justice was never served.

The perpetrators were never found.

The motive remains a mystery.

And one of the most sacrilegious acts in Indian temple history was never punished.

Perhaps this silence — this unanswered question — is also part of the divine test for Ayyappa’s devotees.

As millions chant "Swamiye Saranam Ayyappa", walking the ancient paths toward his abode, somewhere deep in the heart of the forest, the ruins of 1950 still whisper their secrets.

Will they ever be heard?