🕉️ WTF History Special: The God Had a Muslim Girlfriend?...
How South India’s Deities Were More Interfaith Than Most WhatsApp Groups
By our slightly confused, biryani-eating, Vavar-dancing religion correspondent
Welcome to the Deccan, where Shiva rode in on a horse named Khan, Draupadi hired a Muslim bodyguard, and Ayyappa wouldn’t let you up the mountain without first checking in with his best friend Vavar — who just happened to run a mosque.
Yes, dear reader, before “love jihad” debates and TV news anchors discovered the miraculous power of shouting, religion in South India was a rich masala of holy entanglements. If you’ve ever asked yourself, “Did Lord Vishnu marry a Muslim princess?” or “Did Shiva go to Mecca?” then the answer — and this may surprise you — is an enthusiastic, coconut-smashing yes. Let us dive deep into this cosmic buffet of cross-religious camaraderie, a place where mythologies mingled more freely than modern dinner guests at a secular shaadi.
Chapter 1: Welcome to Sabarimala – Where Allah and Ayyappa Trek Together
Imagine trudging 60 km through dense forest on a pilgrimage. You’re tired, your feet hurt, and you’re possibly rethinking your life choices. But wait — you reach Erumely, and suddenly there’s music, coconuts flying through the air, men dancing like they're at an ayahuasca rave, and right in the middle of it all... a mosque.
That’s Vavar Swami's mosque, dedicated to a Muslim warrior-saint who is inseparable from Lord Ayyappa’s legend. Devotees – Hindu and Muslim alike – insist you must pay respects to Vavar before moving up to Ayyappa. Why? Because apparently even gods need interfaith clearance certificates now.
And get this — at the foot of the Sabarimala shrine, there's a whole sub-shrine just for Vavar. No kidding. It's like a divine buddy-cop movie where the Hindu god fights demons while his Muslim friend manages crowd control. Your uncle on Facebook may not approve, but medieval Kerala sure did.
Chapter 2: When Gods Married Muslim Women and Nobody Cared
Let’s rewind to a time when no one had heard of “historic hurt.” In Srirangam and Tirupati, two of the holiest temples in South India, gods had a thing for Muslim princesses. Thulukka Nachiyar and Bibi Nancharamma were royal Muslim women who became divine consorts of Vishnu in his Ranganatha and Venkateswara forms. Their worship continues annually — complete with rituals, processions, and zero protestors yelling “Go back to Arabia!”
These weren't fringe beliefs. These princesses are listed on official temple calendars. It's like if someone photoshopped a Mughal queen into a Durga idol and everyone went, “Yeah sure, she looks divine!”
So while Twitter brawls over interfaith marriages today, Lord Vishnu is somewhere in celestial Vaikuntha sipping sharbat with his Muslim queens.
Chapter 3: Shiva, Now in Pathan Edition — The Legend of Khandoba
Let’s go full masala. In Maharashtra, Karnataka, and Telangana, there’s a rugged god named Khandoba, aka Mallanna, aka Mailar, aka Shiva on a desi safari.
He’s got five wives. That’s not the shocking part.
The spicy twist? One of them is a Muslim woman named Candai Bhagvani, while the others are from shepherd, gardener, and tailor communities. It’s essentially a divine caste coalition government. Candai, legend says, was from the oil-presser caste, which today would qualify her for at least three political manifestos and a Netflix docu-series.
At Jejuri, the biggest temple of Khandoba, Muslims play a vital role in the rituals. One of them traditionally handles the god’s horse during ceremonial hunts. Others act as policemen or guards in the deity’s service. Local Muslims call the god Mallu Khan or Ajmat Khan, and nobody files a lawsuit. They just eat some turmeric biryani and keep it moving.
In one legend, Khandoba even travels to Mecca to fetch that turmeric. Because, of course, why not.
Chapter 4: When Hindus Worship Pirs and Muharram Is a Folk Festival
Here’s where the labels really melt.
In parts of Telangana, “Hindu” communities celebrate Muharram with gusto. It’s called Peerla Panduga, the festival of the Pirs. Lower-caste communities drag tazias through the streets, shout praises of Imam Hussain, and visit dargahs. No, they haven’t “converted.” No, they’re not “confused.” This is just what happens when history is written by poets, not politicians.
And don’t forget Muttal Ravuttan, a Muslim warrior revered as Draupadi’s personal bouncer in rural Tamil Nadu. Legend has it that during festivals, Draupadi's chariot refuses to move unless Muttal Ravuttan is present. Imagine needing a Muslim friend to move your wife’s car. That’s some next-level harmony.
Chapter 5: But... but... didn’t Muslim kings destroy temples?
Yes. And so did Hindu kings. And Buddhist kings. And Jain kings. And probably some really angry cows.
Temple destruction was, in many cases, less about religion and more about royal flexing. The Hoysala king Vishnuvardhana once bragged about stacking Tamil skulls like dominos along the Kaveri. Yet his descendants later donated land to the Srirangam temple that worships a Muslim queen.
The Srirangam priests didn’t reply, “Sorry, we’re still processing intergenerational trauma.” They just said “thanks,” and added a few more gold bells to the shrine.
Chapter 6: Why Does This Matter?
Because history didn’t care for the labels we now obsess over.
Most medieval Indians weren’t nationalists or trolls. They were weavers, shepherds, temple cooks, and wandering minstrels trying to make sense of the divine using whatever stories they could find. In their worlds, Muslim horsemen became Shiva’s incarnations. Princesses from the Sultanate became goddesses in Vaikuntha. And pilgrimages began at mosques.
What we see is not a record of religious “tolerance.” That’s too dry, too modern. What we see is entanglement — a mixing so complete, so joyous, that even divine caste equations were rewritten.
Epilogue: Sacred Turmeric, Spicy Truths
So next time you hear someone shout that Hinduism and Islam were always at war, ask them if they’ve ever danced in front of Vavar’s mosque, or eaten biryani blessed by Khandoba, or read about Vishnu’s Muslim consorts. They probably haven’t. They’re too busy rewriting imaginary insults from the 13th century.
But our ancestors weren’t busy being offended. They were too busy being creative. The gods they gave us were multilingual, multifaith, and multi-cuisine. And if that gives modern bigots heartburn, maybe they should chew on some sacred turmeric.
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