The Ayyappa awaits: Sabarimala supreme's sanctum nears Supreme Court's final verdict

Before dawn breaks over the dense forests of Pathanamthitta, the chants begin. Barefoot men in black or blue dhotis, having observed 41 days of vratham, climb the 18 sacred steps with irumudi on their heads and a single name on their lips. Ayyappa!

For them, the journey to Sabarimala Sree Ayyappa Temple is not tourism. It is tapas. It is discipline. It is surrender.

As a larger nine-judge bench of the Supreme Court prepares to finally hear the matter once more, the hill shrine finds itself at the centre of the nation’s conscience again.

It is at moments like these that faith collides with constitutional scrutiny and serenity gives way to storm, especially in a nation that calls itself secular yet often struggles to remember that secularism was meant to keep the State out of the sanctum, not to turn the sanctum into an extension of the State.

The Sabarimala controversy is not just about entry. It is about whether diversity in practice can be mistaken for discrimination, and whether courts can redraw the sacred geometry of devotion.

A temple apart

The Sabarimala shrine is dedicated to Lord Ayyappa, revered here as a Naishtika Brahmachari, an eternal celibate. Tradition holds that women between the ages of 10 and 50, broadly the menstruating age group, do not enter this temple.

The restriction is rooted in the specific form in which the deity is worshipped here. There are over a thousand other Ayyappa temples across India where women of all ages pray freely.

This distinction forms the heart of the debate. Is the restriction an expression of a particular denominational practice, or is it gender discrimination disguised as custom?

The legal history begins in 1990, when a petition was filed in the Kerala high court seeking enforcement of the ban. In 1991, the high court upheld the restriction, accepting it as a long-standing custom integral to the temple’s practice.

For nearly 15 years thereafter, the matter rested quietly within the hills.

When the law entered the shrine

In 2006, the Indian Young Lawyers Association approached the Supreme Court of India, arguing that barring women violated constitutional guarantees of equality and freedom of religion. By 2016, the Court began openly questioning whether such a ban could withstand constitutional scrutiny.

In September 2018, a five-judge Constitution Bench delivered a 4 to 1 verdict that shook Kerala.

Then Chief Justice Dipak Misra, along with Justices Rohinton Fali Nariman, AM Khanwilkar and DY Chandrachud, held that excluding women was unconstitutional. The practice, they ruled, violated Articles 14, 15, 17 and 25. They said biological factors like menstruation could not justify exclusion. Constitutional morality, they argued, must prevail over public morality rooted in patriarchal attitudes.

Justice Chandrachud observed that exclusion was destructive of liberty and equality. Justice Nariman held that superstitious beliefs extraneous to religion could not claim constitutional protection.

But the lone dissent, interestingly, came from Justice Indu Malhotra. A woman.

Her judgment carried a quiet warning. Courts, she said, must exercise restraint in matters of faith.

Entertaining public interest litigations against religious practices could damage the secular fabric of a plural society. Article 14 alone could not be the touchstone to test religious customs. Equality in religion must be seen within the framework of that faith’s essential practices.

She argued that Sabarimala devotees constituted a separate religious denomination and that the restriction was integral to their worship. Drawing a distinction from untouchability under Article 17, she said the analogy was misplaced.

Her dissent resonated deeply among devotees who believed the court had stepped into sacred terrain.

Ritual and resistance

The verdict did not remain confined to law books. It spilt onto the streets. The Kerala government under chief minister Pinarayi Vijayan moved to implement the judgment.

Massive protests erupted. Devotees blocked roads. Women journalists were turned away. Police protection became routine at the temple gates.

In January 2019, two women entered the shrine under heavy security. The state witnessed widespread unrest.

Meanwhile, review petitions were filed. In November 2019, a five-judge bench led by Chief Justice Ranjan Gogoi referred broader constitutional questions to a larger bench.

The Court did not stay the 2018 judgment but acknowledged the need to examine deeper issues: What constitutes an essential religious practice? How should courts balance equality with denominational rights?

On February 10, 2020, a nine-judge bench upheld the decision to examine these larger questions, expanding the scope beyond Sabarimala to include other faith based entry disputes.

The debate had now grown from one hill shrine to the entire landscape of religious freedom in India.

The 2026 hearing

In 2026, the matter returned dramatically to centre stage. A nine-judge bench is scheduled to hear pleas relating to discrimination against women at religious places, including Sabarimala.

The hearing, beginning April 7 and expected to conclude by April 22, will examine review petitions and the broader constitutional framework. The bench will hear parties supporting the review, original writ petitioners opposing it, and finally, the amicus curiae.

Alongside Sabarimala, the top court will consider petitions regarding Muslim women’s entry in mosques and dargahs, entry of Parsi women in fire temples after marrying outside the community, and the Dawoodi Bohra practice of female genital mutilation.

The stakes are immense. The court must decide whether it has authority to intervene in ritualistic traditions that communities consider sacred.

As Kerala heads toward assembly elections, political currents swirl once more. The ruling Left government has refrained from taking a definitive stand, saying it will consult experts and clarify its position when required.

Opposition parties demand clarity. Devotee organisations press for the protection of tradition.

Faith and franchise intersect. Again.

Is diversity discrimination?

One of the most powerful arguments from devotees is simple: Diversity of practice is not discrimination.

Across India, numerous temples follow unique customs shaped by theology, legend and regional belief. Consider a few examples.

At the Attukal Bhagavathy Temple, lakhs of women gather for the Attukal Pongala festival. Men are not allowed inside the temple grounds during the ritual. It is a celebration of feminine devotion.

The Chakkulathukavu Temple hosts the annual Naari Puja, where women are worshipped and men cannot enter the temple area during the ceremony.



At the Kamakhya Temple, the Ambubachi Mela celebrates the menstruation of the goddess. The temple closes for three days, and certain restrictions apply, reflecting the sacredness of the event.

The Santoshi Mata Temple in Jodhpur is known for traditions that restrict men from entering the inner sanctum on specific days.

In each of these places, exclusion is not framed as oppression but as theological coherence. The ritual space is shaped to honour a particular spiritual meaning.

Restrictions on men

The Brahma Temple has traditions linked to mythology that limit entry of married men into certain spaces. The Kanyakumari Temple maintains customs restricting men from the inner sanctum, preserving the sanctity of the goddess’s form.

If such practices are expressions of diversity, devotees ask, why is Sabarimala singled out as discriminatory?

This question does not dismiss equality. It asks whether equality must mean uniformity.

The constitutional crossroads

The essential religious practice doctrine lies at the centre of the controversy. Since the Shirur Mutt case in 1954, courts have determined which practices are essential to a religion and therefore protected under Article 25.

In Sabarimala, the majority in 2018 held that exclusion of women was not essential. Justice Malhotra disagreed, asserting that courts should not rationalise faith.

Chief Justice Gogoi later framed the issue more broadly: Can constitutional courts step into questions involving customs that are essential to a religion but appear to violate fundamental rights?

This tension between equality and denominational autonomy is not easily resolved.

Constitutional morality seeks to uphold dignity and non-discrimination. Religious freedom seeks to preserve autonomy and faith. When these principles collide, judges must weigh not only law but history, sociology and theology.

The nine-judge bench now has the task of evolving a coherent judicial policy for future cases involving similar conflicts.

The emotional landscape

For devotees, Sabarimala is not about excluding women. Many women themselves support the traditional practice, arguing that devotion sometimes expresses itself through restraint. They see the vratham observed by male devotees as a form of temporary renunciation. The temple’s unique character, they argue, would be altered if its core discipline is modified.

For those supporting the 2018 verdict, the issue is straightforward that no woman should be denied entry to a public temple on biological grounds. They see the restriction as patriarchal and incompatible with modern constitutional values.

Between these positions lies a complex emotional terrain.

The 620-kilometre Women’s Wall formed across Kerala in 2019 symbolised one side of the debate. The mass protests by Ayyappa devotees symbolised the other.

The vratham

Devotees gather at temples across the country to mark the beginning of the 41-day vratham observed ahead of the annual pilgrimage to the Sabarimala Sree Ayyappa Temple in Kerala. The period of austerity holds deep spiritual significance for followers of Lord Ayyappa, who undertake strict fasting, celibacy, vegetarianism and a disciplined daily routine as preparation for the arduous trek to the hill shrine.

Clad in traditional black or blue attire symbolising renunciation and equality, devotees offer special prayers seeking strength, self-control and purity of mind before embarking on the sacred journey.

Beyond sabarimala

The current hearings extend beyond one shrine. Petitions concerning Muslim women’s entry into mosques, Parsi women’s rights in fire temples, and Dawoodi Bohra practices highlight a broader question: how should India negotiate the boundary between reform and respect?

If courts intervene too aggressively, they risk being seen as arbiters of theology. If they withdraw completely, genuine injustices may persist unchecked.

The Sabarimala case has become a prism through which India examines its constitutional soul.

Awaiting the verdict

As April hearings approach, the nation watches again. The nine-judge bench will hear review petitioners, respondents and the amicus within a fixed timeline. Its judgment could reshape the boundaries of religious freedom.

For Kerala, on the cusp of elections, the issue is political. For devotees, it is personal. For scholars, it is constitutional.

Yet beneath argument and analysis lies a simple truth. Temples are not mere structures but vessels of memory. Those who climb Sabarimala carry an inheritance as much as an offering.

Whatever the bench decides, the question now runs deeper than entry. It asks whether a civilisation that values diversity can defend equality without erasing difference.
Get real-time updates and result insights on the JKBOSE class 10 result 2026.