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Chaturanga

~ statecraft, strategy, society, and Σοφíα

Chaturanga

Tag Archives: Chalukya

The Greatest Empire of Them All

19 Tue May 2015

Posted by Jaideep A. Prabhu in Opinion and Response

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Abbasid, Achaemenid, Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, Chalukya, Chola, culture, economy, empire, Gupta, Khmer, Kush, literature, Maurya, military, philosophy, Rome, Satavahana, science, Sumeria, technology, territory, Venice

Who was the greatest empire of them all? Ask a dozen people that question and you will get a baker’s dozen answers! Of course, everyone has their favourites and it is hard to accept that there were any shortcomings in our precious darlings but how does one go about bringing even a semblance of objectivity to the discussion? What are the criteria by which one might evaluate empires?

Almost every discussion on this topic starts with a comparison of military might. “Rome dominated the world,” someone would say. “Surely, the irresistible onslaught of the Mongol horde is something to be feared,” someone else would counter. “Agincourt!” blurts out the incorrigible Anglophile. “Waterloo,” they grin further as the Italo-Gallics imperceptibly roll their eyes at those “northerners” who did not even learn to take a bath daily until well into the 19th century. “But what about Alexander the Great?” squeaks the lonely classicist.

Two things immediately stand out in this conversation: first, this is still a largely Western conversation without any serious inclusions of Eastern empires. One wonders if the Mongols would have made the list had they not invaded Poland and threatened Central Europe. Second, what exactly is an empire? Is it defined merely by size or does it consider the nature of the political, social, and economic relationship between the conquerors and the conquered? Before I kill all the fun in this exercise, I will just state that the way the ancients understood empire was through political fealty and allegiance: weaker kings and chiefs would swear oaths of loyalty to an emperor and send annual tributes in exchange for their continued local rule. This worked well for the emperor too in an era where difficulty in communications and travel meant that authority and distance from the imperial capital were inversely related.

Does the size of an empire contribute to its greatness? If so, the British were the greatest empire ever. This same yardstick would also knock Rome out of the Top 25 and cede greater importance to Brazil than to the Achaemenid, Mauryan, or Mughal empires. Clearly, territory is important but not all-important; after all, one hardly refers to Israel as an empire for its dominion over the West Bank and the Gaza Strip. By the same token, population, economic wealth, and raw military power are complicated indicators because later empires will always have an advantage with regard to these features. Even comparing contemporarily, there was hardly any technological difference between the Romans and the Greeks at Asculum or between the French and the Austrians at Austerlitz. While these indicators do matter in a broad sense, they are of little use when differentiating among an already elite group of empires.

Related to size is duration. How great is an empire, really, if it collapses even before the ashes of its creator have cooled? Alexander the Great comes to mind here, for he shaped an empire in 13 years that did not last as many months after he was gone. However, in that short yet intense period, Alexander did as much to spread Greek influence around the known world as the many great kings and philosophers before him. How can an empire leave its mark on history if it lasts but for a fleeting moment? If duration is the primary criterion, Rome would undoubtedly reign as the primus inter pares of empires – even though considered an empire only after the fall of the republic in 27 BCE, Rome was among the mightiest powers around the Mediterranean since the 3rd century BCE. From this early date, it lived on in some form or another, until the collapse of Constantinople to the Turks in 1453 – almost 1,700 years. Yet survivability is also an imperfect measure – who remembers the Kush in eastern Africa that lasted for nearly 1,400 years? Or how seriously are the Venetian and Holy Roman Empires taken, both of which lasted about a thousand years?

Surely culture must have a role to play in how empires are remembered and evaluated? After conceding the approximate criteria of size and duration, does culture offer a better yardstick by which to measure empires? This is a complicated question, for it immediately raises the question of who does the remembering. There is no doubt that the more popular Romans and Abbasids built great empires but in what cultural way do the Cholas or the Guptas fail to measure up to them? Memory depends on where one stands; for Europe, Greece was the cradle of civilisation but to people further east in Sumeria, Iran, and India, Homer and Aristotle were relatively late to the game. Should we judge an empire by how much cultural influence it wielded in its own time or should the measure be how much of it trickled down to the present? Do Rome and Greece not have an unfair advantage in that their influence was carried forth since the 1500s by the bayonets of those who wished to claim their lineage than by the merits of their own empires? In other words, had India colonised Europe in the 1500s, would the referent empires not have been the Harappans, Guptas, and Cholas? How much sense does it make to tear these cultures out of their historical context and evaluate them clinically for their contributions to humanity?

There is also the problem of making sense of the contributions each civilisation made to human knowledge. If utility is considered, we run into problems with Indian science which offered remarkable explanations of the natural world but did not always translate into technology. The same could be said of the metaphysics of Aristotle by a modern atheist. Another consideration, veracity, is of little help either. Modern states and empires will always have an advantage over older ones because the nature of discovery and invention is such that it builds on earlier work. A millennium down the road, our descendants might consider our lifetimes a total waste because so many of our theories might have been disproved by then. Influence is perhaps a better measurement, however imprecise: Parmenides and Aristotle laid down the framework in the West of how science and philosophy ought to be done. Many of their theories were not challenged until the 1500s, some even as late as the 1800s. The Greek plays are still used as metaphor to capture complex human emotions and characteristics in an easily understandable way. Similarly, the power of Sanskrit and its literature over Indian writing was enormous until the Raj systematically dismantled native systems in favour of creating brown Englishmen.

Given a threshold military capability and size, an empire, then, is made great by its science, philosophy, and culture. Monuments are usually good indications of an empire’s achievements for they at once represent wealth, administrative acumen, and technical and aesthetic brilliance. Neither Abu Simbel nor Ellora nor Angkor Wat could have been built by, to use a modern term, failed states. This also supports the idea that as a thinking species, humans find greater value in the higher pursuits than in crude physical strength. The greatest empire, then, is one that is closest to – forgive the borrowing of the atrocious phrase – “having it all.” With these criteria, who do you think is the greatest empire of them all?


This post first appeared on Swarajya on May 28, 2015.

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A Gujarati Soujourn

24 Sat Jan 2015

Posted by Jaideep A. Prabhu in India, Society, South Asia, Travelogue

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Adalaj, agnikula, agnikunda legend, agnivanshi, Archaeological Survey of India, Arisimha, ASI, Bet Dwaraka, Bhavishya Purana, Bhimdev I, Bilhana, Chalukya, Champaner, Chand Bardai, chandravanshi, Chauhan, Dholavira, Dwaraka, Dwarakadhish Temple, Gujarat, Hutheesing Jain Temple, India, Jama Masjid, Keshavraiji Temple, Kirti Kaumudi, Lothal, Mahmud Begada, Mehsana, Merutunga, Modhera, Mohandas Gandhi, Pampa, Paramara, Patan, Prabhanda Chintamani, Pratihara, Prithviraj Raso, Rajput, Rana Veer Singh, Rani ki Vav, Rani Roopba, saat kaman, Sabarmati, Sardar, Solanki, Someshwara, Somnath, Sukrita Sankirtana, Surya Mandir, suryavanshi, travelogue, Udayamati, UNESCO, Uttarardh Mahotsav, Vallabhbhai Patel, Vikramankdevacharita, Vikramarjuna Vijaya, World Heritage

Gujarat has attracted a lot of attention of late. The outbreak of plague in Surat in 1994, the earthquake in 2001, the riots following the massacre of 58 Hindu pilgrims at Godhra in 2002, the state’s remarkable development story, and the electoral triumph of India’s new prime minister from Vadnagar have all fixed Gujarat firmly in the Indian and international imagination. An invitation from Amitabh Bachchan in his sonorous voice to visit the state clinches the deal and it is impossible to resist a trip to Gujarat.

Gujarat tourismFor whatever reason, Gujarat has not advertised itself much as a tourist destination until recently. Even now, the promotion of tourism appears halfhearted compared to the glitzy campaigns of Thailand, Turkey, Malaysia, or even Singapore. Awareness of Gujarat’s sights, barring Gir Forest or pilgrimage spots, is very low. I would have suggested that the tourist infrastructure is almost non-existent and that also betrays the state’s apathy towards tourism but I realise this is true for most parts of India and not limited to Gujarat.

My trip started from Amdavad. I reached Amdavad by train in the morning and was ready to hit the road by noon. I am not particularly enamoured by the Mohandas Gandhi story and did not want Sabarmati Ashram on my itinerary. Thankfully, my friend did not insist on making me more closely acquainted with one of Gujarat’s great sons either. Apparently the state has only one great son in the modern era – Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel – and all others are liked only in varying degrees.

Rani ki VavOur first stop was Patan, approximately 130 kms north of Amdavad. This was because I had arrived at a fairly fortuitous time, just after the Vibrant Gujarat Summit and the Pravasi Bharatiya Divas but during the annual Uttarardh Mahotsav. My initial thoughts had been to spend the day in and around Amdavad rather than squeeze a visit to a nearby site of interest. That changed even before I arrived in Amdavad because it came to my notice that a classical dance show had been organised in Modhera in front of the Surya Mandir that night. The setting was going to be seductive and I like classical dance – no way was I going to miss it! As we say back home, kmean kar roiam chivut kmean ney – without dance, life has no meaning.

The road to Patan was not bad. After all, Gujarat is famous for the quality of its roads. In a country where potholes are the norm, the western Indian state really stood out as an exception. Our destination in Patan was Rani ki Vav, a 950-year-old stepwell built by Queen Udayamati in the memory of her deceased husband, Bhimdev I of the Solanki dynasty. Also known as Ranki Vav, the structure was added to UNESCO’s list of World Heritage sites in June 2014.

An apsara at Rani ki VavI had little expectations from this stepwell – after all, I had seen several such decorated holes in the ground during my travels in Karnataka. Yet Rani ki Vav stunned me with its size and beautiful sculptures. The well is some 65 metres long and well over seven storeys down. Furthermore, it was not decorated with just a few geometric designs but extensively with sculptures of Mahishasuramardini, Parvati, Bhairava, Ganesha, Surya, Kubera, and the several avataras of Vishnu. Interspersed are the ashtadikpalas, yoginis, nagakanyas, and apsaras. I would not be exaggerating if I said that these statues could easily be compared to those at Belur, Khajuraho, or Ellora. I was especially pleased to see vigilant guards chasing away the idiots who wanted to climb or lean on the sculptures; I wish they had the power to levy hefty fines as well.

A wall panel at Rani ki VavThis comparison makes me wonder about the market for craftsmen in India a thousand years ago. It is obvious that works of exquisite beauty in stone were not the monopoly of just one kingdom or one short, golden period. The talent was widespread, as was the demand. Furthermore, there exists a span of a good five of six centuries between Ellora and the Hoysalas. Throughout this period, there seemed to be enough work for craftsmen to sustain themselves and not let their art die. As a scholar primarily of Europe, I found it an interesting comparative snapshot of the composition of the economies of the kingdoms of the Indian subcontinent ten centuries ago.

I would like to go off on a short tangent at this point about the Solanki kings of Gujarat because I was quite surprised to hear some of the theories of their origins and others might be too. Several theories consider the Solankis to be the descendants of the southern Chalukya dynasty of what is today Karnataka. To begin with the mythological evidence first, one theory suggests that ‘Chalukya’ was the name of a warrior who was born from fire and his descendants became the Chalukyas. The idea of a fiery birth is prevalent across Hindu epics and puranas and very likely fired up the imagination of a few poets in search of new euolgies for their royal patrons too.

The notion of Agnikula Rajputs was probably popularised by Chand Bardai, the 12th century court poet of Rai Pithora, in his poem Prithviraj Raso. Rajput clans are broadly divided into three lineages – those claiming descent from the Sun, suryavanshi, those claiming the Moon as their ancestor, chandravanshi, and those born of fire, agnivanshi. This is drawn from the Bhavishya Purana, where it is stated that the agnikunda Rajputs – Chauhans, Chalukyas, Parmaras, and Pratiharas – were born at Mount Abu. As I said earlier, one of these warriors was called Chalukya.

Another theory, this one from Bilhana’s 11th century eulogy to Vikramaditya VI, the Vikramankdevacharita, is that Brahma took some sacred water of the Ganges into his palm, from which he created a fearsome warrior. Since the word for palm is “chuluk” in Sanskrit, the warrior and his descendants came to be known as the Chalukyas. A third theory, proposed by the 10th century poet Pampa in his Vikramarjuna Vijaya, suggests that the Chalukyas were the descendants of the great Pandava warrior, Arjuna.

Coming to the realm of history, several scholars such as Lt. Col. James Tod, Sir James Campbell, and Gaurishankar Ojha have speculated on the Kalyankataka – a town undisputedly under Chalukya suzerainty – origins of the Solankis. Their sources are inscriptions and chronicles of the period such as Merutunga’s Prabhanda Chintamani, Arisimha’s Sukrita Sankirtana, and Someshwara’s Kirti Kaumudi. Of course, the veracity of these chronicles must be taken with a pinch of salt, but they seem to broadly agree with each other.

No doubt, there are differences between the southern Chalukyas and the northern Solankis, but that is to be expected over a couple of centuries. In keeping with local customs, perhaps, the northern branch of the dynasty underwent changes in their kuladeva, their crest, their gotra, and their name underwent a linguistic as well as language shift. Language experts can tell you more about the shift from “ch” to “s” but away from home, the Chalukyas of Gujarat gradually became the Solankis of Gujarat. In a far less complicated manner, a modern example would be how the Scindias of Madhya Pradesh are the Shindes of Maharashtra.

Anyway. I had expected to spend at most half an hour at Rani ki Vav but ended up spending closer to two hours. What was supposed to be just another hole in the ground ate up much more time than I had expected. With sunset approaching, we headed to Modhera after the promise of song and dance.

Modhera Surya MandirThe Surya Mandir at Modhera had been lit up in different colours and a stage had been built in front of it, this side of the kalyani, of course. The programme consisted of three segments: it would be an hour of odissi, followed by an hour of bharatnatyam, and concluding with an hour of Gujarat’s own gharba. Sadly, I am no dance connoisseur but I doubt anything on a stage with such a magnificent backdrop could look bad! I was mesmerised by odissi and the bharatnatyam but left before the gharba started – somehow gharba gives off the vibe that it is a participatory activity and not a spectator event. Due to a little logistical snafu, we could not get a hotel room in Mehsana and had to drive back to Amdavad. However, thanks to the good road, we made it home in good time.

Odissi at Modhera Bharatnatyam at Modhera Narasimha avatar

Surya Mandir, ModheraThe next day, we hit the road early because we wanted to see Modhera during the day and then move on to Dholavira and make it there before the sun set. The Surya Mandir at Modhera was quite beautiful, though heavily eroded. In fact, I was surprised to see the level of erosion the sculptures on the temple walls had endured. Going only by the erosion, had I not known the age of the temple, I would have easily guessed it to be at least 500 years older than it actually was. I suspect part of it is the constant touching and climbing by tourists, not to mention the sacking by Allaudin Khilji, but some of it might also be that the Gujarat air carries a lot of dust – not unthinkable in a semi-arid state.

View from garbha griha, Surya MandirThe Modhera Surya Mandir was built by King Bhimdev in 1026, the same ruler in whose honour Rani ki Vav was posthumously built. It is built such that, on the summer solstice, the first rays of the sun fall on the deity, Surya. Our return to Amdavad the previous night had not been entirely foolish, thankfully: had it been an equinox, we would have missed an opportunity to witness this for ourselves. The temple has three segments: a pushkarini, a sabha mantap, and the garbha griha. The pushkarini is slightly larger than an Olympic-size swimming pool, and its steps contain tiny shrines to 108 deities though I did not count them! Also, I have not noticed such a prominent and stand-alone sabha mantap at any other temple that I recall. Even if such an arrangement exists, it does not seem common.

Roof of sabha mantap, Surya MandirThere was a small museum on site too. It is not really worth a visit unless you want to come away with horror stories of how the Archaeological Survey of India has just collected statues and fragments in there, or how the labels are atrociously vague. When we visited it, there were no guards or attendants there and even the lights were off. The museum, such as it was, stood only marginally above a lost-and-found goods warehouse.

Eroded idols at Surya Mandir, Modhera

Eroded Ganesha, Surya Mandir Eroded Anantashayana, Surya Mandir Eroded Suryadev, Surya Mandir

We set off for Dholavira well before noon. The distance between us and our destination was approximately 250 kms and pace all the stories about Gujarat’s great roads, I knew that in India, the only sensible thing would be to plan to cover the distance in eight hours. Just the previous month, I had been stuck on a stretch of highway that took four hours to traverse a hundred kilometres! We reached Dholavira in four hours, but it was not all smooth sailing.

GadkibetI must at this point register my strong distrust of Google Maps. The product is generally good, I will admit, but there have been times when I have also been terribly misled. This was one of them. We had driven north to Radhanpur from where got onto NH 15 as it would take us half way to Dholavira. Theoretically, we were supposed to turn off NH 15 onto Gujarat SH 52 just after Santalpur and towards Ranmalpura. From there, GJSH 52 would take us through a desert patch called Gadkibet and all the way to GJSH 51 near Balasar and on the last stretch to Dholavira. Except that when we left NH 15, we were quickly onto a dirt track to nowhere! We pushed on for a bit but there seemed to be no sign of civilisation. Finally, we came across a couple of people walking by and asked them for directions. For whatever reason, they seemed eager to tell us how to get to Dhoraji rather than Dholavira! I dare not contemplate the possibility that they had not heard of the ancient Harappan site.

A puncture in the middle of nowhereSoon, even the bushes failed and we were in the open desert with not a point of reference on the horizon to guide us. Google Maps still showed us to be on the alleged GJSH 52 but I am wondering if that whole road is some sort of NREGA scheme Google cooked up! Life never gets better without getting worse first – in the middle of this nowhere, our car got a flat tyre. I know, oy vey! Common sensical folks that we are, we had serviced the car before leaving on our journey and we had a spare tyre. After changing the wheel, we pressed on with only the sun and our tracks as navigational references. Oddly, I did not feel at all scared to be out of sight of everything; it felt like I had the planet to myself for a few minutes, and that really wasn’t so bad 🙂 Finally, we reached a road and I am not quite sure whether by luck or by our rudimentary navigation. To be fair, we knew we would eventually hit a road somewhere; we just hoped we would not have to deal with another puncture. We reached Dholavira only half an hour later than we had expected, remarkable given our adventures.

Road to DholaviraThere was no town around Dholavira, it was merely a marker on the map. There were two lodges and a shop in the vicinity of the Harappan ruins and that was it. I did not see anything else for a few kilometres. Normally, I review hotels I have stayed in on TripAdvisor to avoid clutter in the travelogue. However, there is an important lesson to be learned about lodging in the Gujarati wilderness – you really cannot call Dholavira anything else – that is best explained here. Both hotels were tolerable for backpackers, students, and budget travellers but there were no luxuries. Both places were somewhat clean though the paint was peeling off the walls at one place and the other place appeared too new for real wear and tear. However, one place had no bathroom infrastructure in terms of a health faucet, bidet, jet spray, or even toilet paper. The difference in price for these otherwise similar places was double for the one that had the facilities. The same was the case in Mehsana – in fact, the porter actually asked us what ‘toilet paper’ was when we asked about the inadequate bathroom! So the lesson here is: always carry a roll of toilet paper in Gujarat!

Dholavira townWe had about an hour of sunlight and I could not resist the call of a 5,000-year-old settlement. We rushed to the Harappan ruins to catch a first glimpse of what life was like five millennia ago. Of course, the Indus Valley Civilisation was not the first settlement in South Asia though it was the first clearly urban one: the subcontinent’s history is considerably older if one considers the Mehrgarh discoveries of advanced farming communities. Unfortunately, those sites, or whatever is left of them, are in Balochistan and not quite accessible. After an hour or so on site, we headed back to our hotel for not only was it getting dark but it was difficult to figure out the significance of all but the most obvious structures such as the huge water reservoirs.

Dwelling, Level 7; DholaviraWe arranged for a guide for Dholavira for the next day at our hotel. For all its primitiveness, the staff was very cooperative and friendly. There was little to do after that except have dinner and retire – there was no television and my phone was off network. It was not quite cold but we still started a small campfire for us to sit around and chat. It turned out to be a great decision – miles from nowhere, in the middle of a desolate salt marsh, the sky was clearer and more wondrous.

The main boulevard of DholaviraThe next morning, we set off early to maximise our time at the Harappan ruins. We would have a long drive to Somnath later and the sooner we got out of Dholavira, the better. Our guide had himself spent 13 years assisting archaeologists excavate Dholavira and was quite knowledgeable about the area. The entire archaeological site is about 800 metres in length and 600 metres across. It took us approximately three and a half hours to wander through the citadel, midtown, and lower town. Dholavira thrived for some 1,500 years and at its peak, housed some 15,000 people. Dholavira is one of the five largest Indus Valley cities discovered so far, the others being Mohenjodaro (Sindh), Harappa (Punjab, Pakistan), Kalibangan (Rajasthan), and Surkotada (Gujarat). The city has seven layers so far – meaning that it was inhabited and abandoned seven times. Unfortunately for archaeologists, later layers freely borrowed building material from earlier ones, and separating the different stages without contaminating them is painstaking work.

Water reservoir, DholaviraThe most immediate thing you notice about the ancient city are its massive water reservoirs and water filtration system, five out of an estimated sixteen of which have been excavated. In a place like Khadirbet, the reason for this is obvious. The only sources of water for the inhabitants of Dholavira would have been two storm water channels, the Manhar and the Mansar, that flanked the city. Additionally, they would have had to practice some serious rainwater harvesting. Given the shortage of water, it is surprising that the Dholavirans spent so much water in making the bricks for the high walls of the citadel. The only logical answer for such constructions is that they must have feared regular attack from their neighbours, wandering tribes, and bandits. For Dholavira to not just survive but flourish away from a perennial river or the sea, they must have been on some ancient trade crossroad; their fabulous wealth must have attracted unwanted attention.

Dholavira signpostAnother interesting discovery at Dholavira is the famous signboard found there. Of course, there is no piece of wood or placard surviving from 5,000 years ago but the imprint of the gypsum used to make the sign remains. This is, unfortunately for tourists, covered to protect it. The urban planning and sewage systems of Indus Valley settlements is well-known and Dholavira is no exception. There are baths, water reservoirs, drainage channels, wells, and even storage tanks to keep water cool in the citadel. In the dried up river beds of Manhar and Mansar, evidence has been found to suggest that the Dholavirans built dams to divert the monsoon water in the rivers into their reservoirs. If one notices carefully, the slope of Dholavira will be apparent; this aided the flow of water the higher tanks to the lower cisterns to the extent that water was not in particularly short supply throughout the year.

Neglected DholaviraIt was just wonderful to let the antiquity of the place to engulf you. Yet it was disappointing to see the neglect of such an important historical place. For instance, Dholavira was discovered around 1967 by Jagat Pati Joshi but the ASI began excavating it only around 1990. Presently, all excavation in the area has stopped. Our guide told us that some portions of the site had been reburied by archaeologists for fear of damaging the artifacts through neglect. There has even been encroachment upon the site from nearby farms and it would be an uphill battle to reclaim those lands for archaeological excavations if they ever started again. Wild grass grows all over the site and no road has been created for tourists to walk around. There are hardly half a dozen placards around the site and even they are completely unhelpful in terms of information or directions. Had it not been for our guide, I am not sure how much we could have gleaned from piles of stone and brick lying around.

Dholavira sealWe had spent some three and a half hours on site and I was thoroughly shocked to note that we did not bump into a single tourist or official the entire time! The ruins of this city from near the beginnings of civilisation in India was simply not on the map; Belgium, on the other hand, advertises Manneken Pis – a bronze figurine of a small boy urinating – as if it is the greatest piece of sculpture in European history!

Dholavira potteryThere is a small museum as well but most of the artifacts worth seeing have been carted off to Delhi, some to decorate the museums of the capital while most languish unappreciated in ASI warehouses. Other than the eponymous site, there is also a fossil park at Dholavira that we did not visit. Samples of fossilised wood from the park were available at the museum and we were not particularly interested in seeing more.

From Dholavira, we left for the temple town of Somnath. We had decided to skip Dwaraka. For many Hindus, our decision would seem sacrilegious but the fact is that I do not really care about modern temples lending substance to mythology. There are two temples in the area that pilgrims flock to – Dwarkadhish in Dwaraka, and Keshavraiji on Bet Dwaraka, 35 kms away. Admittedly, some of the pillars in Dwarkadhish Temple are close to two thousand years old but this only proves the borrowing of older building material. The finding is still too recent for it to be connected to the mythological Krishna story.

Excavations in the area have found interesting artifacts but most date back only to the Mauryan period. Some discoveries that indicate an earlier date of settlement in the area still do not go much beyond the late Harappan period. Of great interest has been a handful of items that have been carbon-dated to approximately 7,500 BCE. However, the findings are inconclusive at best and may even be natural formations. Suffice it to say that the jury was still out on the whole thing and it was not like we would be able to go scuba diving to see the really cool stuff anyway. Therefore, there was no cause to add Dwaraka to my itinerary.

The journey to Somnath was 450 kms long. In any other state, I would not have dared to start a journey of this length after noon but Gujarat’s roads gave me the confidence that this was doable. The road was iffy until we hit Chitrod, but it got much better from Rajkot on. In fact, we made Somnath in about eight hours, including a stopfor lunch and some shopping. We practically flew until Junagadh but from there, the road was good in spurts only. In the towns, the roads were quite bad. We had to stop in Junagadh for a bit to pick up a mundu for me because I was travelling in cargo shorts and that is not how one goes to meet Lord Shiva! Unfortunately, Gujaratis seem to be a race of midgets, for the mundu I could find was only up to my ankles and that too if I wore it dangerously low!

In Somnath too, the hotels had the same bathroom issue we had bumped into in Mehsana and Dholavira. Thankfully, there are plenty of hotels in Somnath and we could find decent and affordable accommodations quickly.

Somnath Temple silhouetteThe trick about Somnath Temple is to visit it at the crack of dawn and avoid particularly holy days or the holidays. As the primary of the twelve jyotirlingas, it can get pretty crowded on Mahashivaratri for example. The next day, we were knocking on the gates around 05 00. The temple opens at 06 00 but the first aarti is at 07 00. To be fair, we got there so early to do a bit of photography. Security is strict around the temple, and cars have to be parked some 500 metres away. No cameras or leather items are allowed inside the temple, and one’s dress should be…modest. We were among the first in line and we could easily go in, get our darshan, and then wait on the side until the aarti started. It got crowded pretty quickly and any doubts I may have had about getting there so early disappeared as the ardha mandapam began filling up.

Somnath TempleWe observed the aarti in peace and then walked around the temple complex. I was surprised to see so many of my mundu brethren there and a couple of them were eyeing me strangely as if to wonder, Namma oorkaaranga maadiri dress pottuirukkara parasigan yaarappa? Somnath is by the sea and the spot is therefore naturally picturesque. An interesting factoid is that there is no land on the longitude of Somnath Temple south of it until Antarctica, about 10,000 kms away. Behind the temple, there is a covered promenade for devotees to sit and enjoy the view. I can only imagine how nice it must be during the monsoons. Right by the Somnath Temple, is another Shiva temple. That one was built by the Maratha queen Ahilya Holkar in 1783 and stands in the footprint of the original Somnath Temple. Since Somnath had been destroyed so many times, Ahilya Holkar had the garbha griha built in the basement as a security measure.

Everyone knows that the Shiva temple at Somnath was looted by Muslim armies time and again. What I did not know was that the present temple is the seventh one, built in 1951. No one knows precisely when the first temple was built but it is assumed to be around 4CE. The second temple was built by the Yadava kings of Vallabhi around 649. The third temple was built by Gurjara Pratihara King Nagabhata II in 815 after Junayd ibn Abd al-Rahman al-Murri, the Arab governor of Sindh, destroyed it in 725. In 1024, the temple was yet again destroyed in the infamous raid by Mahmud of Ghazni; it was rebuilt by Gujjar Paramara King Bhoj and Solanki King Bhimdev I in 1042. The temple was sacked in 1296 during Allauddin Khilji’s bloody invasion which saw over 50,000 Hindus put to death and over 20,000 sold as slaves. The Chudasama king Mahipala Deva rebuilt the structure in 1308 only for it to be destroyed again by Muzaffar Shah I in 1395, Mahmud Begada in 1451, and Aurangzeb in 1665. Somnath Temple was then rebuilt only after Maratha power waxed in India and the smaller Muslim kings of Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh were crushed. In between, Somnath had been sacked several times without the temple being destroyed.

Sardar Vallabhbhai PatelThe temple that we see today was constructed through the efforts of India’s first home minister, Vallabhbhai Patel. The ruins were pulled down and a fresh build was undertaken. During Islamic suzerainty over Gujarat, Somnath Temple had been converted into a mosque. This mosque moved a few kilometres away to make room for the new temple. Though Patel was the driving force behind the rebuilding of the Somnath Temple, he did not live to see it open. The temple opened in May 1951, five months after Patel’s death. Interestingly, Gandhi also supported the rebuilding of the Somnath temple as did several Congress leaders such as KM Munshi. Jawaharlal Nehru remained the voice of the tiny minority opposed to the temple project.

Trident street lamp, SomnathA Chalukyan style, or more specifically, the Kailas Mahameru Prasad style, was employed in the reconstruction of Somnath. I am no student of architecture but going by what I saw when I visited Badami and its environs, Somnath does not look similar. Perhaps the skills to produce such ornate pillars with such delicate features has been lost and what was achieved was a poor 20th century imitation. Large parts of the garbha griha and sabha mantap have been plated with gold since 2008. Around the temple, some reclamation work has been done – traditionally, the temple sat on the shore but it is now slightly inland and the beachfront around it has big boulders to break the waves and deter potential attackers. Before the temple, a statue of Patel stands, gazing upon one of Hinduism’s holiest shrines.

I will say that Somnath Temple has been maintained quite well. Temple towns have a reputation for pushing the boundaries of filthiness but Somnath was a pleasant surprise. Even the railway station looked tidy despite handling what must be thousands of pilgrims daily. We came back to our hotel and rested for a bit before driving back to Ahmedabad, a distance of 400 kms. Gujarat is not a small state, and sometimes the distances to be covered are vast. It is only with the network of high quality roads that this trip was possible in so short a time. In fact, we made such good time on our journey that day that we decided to stop by Lothal on the way.

Lothal townLothal is another Indus Valley site and is famous for its dry dock (though there has been some debate over this and suggestions that it might just be a large irrigation tank), one of the earliest in the world. The settlement is smaller than Harappa and dates further back. It was also quite prosperous but was subsumed into the Indus Valley fold as waves of migration from the Saraswati-Sindhu basin occurred. The name, ‘Lothal,’ apparently means in Gujarati what ‘Mohenjodaro’ means in Sindhi – mound of the dead – but there is little evidence of burial and lots for cremation at the site.  While we do not know much about what the town was like before the Harappans came there, the urban planning and the water management infrastructure mark Lothal as a quintessential Indus Valley settlement. The settlement’s dimensions are roughly 300 metres long by 200 metres wide.

Lothal dry dockLothal looked different – less haphazard – from Dholavira, probably because Lothal does not have seven layers of habitation. The town is small yet suited to its purpose, i.e., manufacturing and trade. At Lothal, you see a variety of building materials – the town was built with sun-dried bricks, the water system mainly of kiln-fired bricks, and the wharf and warehouses of mud bricks. Since water was plentiful – too plentiful, in fact – the residents of Lothal could afford to use brick rather than stone and therefore their structures retain a clean and polished finish unlike at Dholavira. The town layout follows a grid, streets and buildings perfectly parallel or perpendicular to others. The superstructures have all vanished due to erosion and theft but the bricks that remain still hold true even after four millennia.

Neglected LothalLike its contemporary, Lothal has also been virtually abandoned by the ASI. Grass grows wildly over the site and there did not appear to be anyone guarding it. It would have been very easy for us to pick up and spirit away a few bricks as souvenirs if we so desired. Moss grew over the walls of the dock and several bricks had fallen apart, I would venture from salinity. There is a small museum on site but it was closed when we were there. In terms of accommodation too, there did not appear to be much in the area. Ahmedabad, some 85 kms away, is not particularly well connected to Lothal either – one would have to go to Bagodara or Burkhi and then either catch a local bus or perhaps hitch a ride to Lothal. Thank the gods we were in our own car! There is no food either, the nearest stalls being on the highway some 20 kms away. Sorry, Mr. Bachchan, we would love to breathe in a bit of Gujarat but it is a nuisance to do so.

Gujarat roadsI should also tell you a little bit about Gujarat’s roads that no one else will. Sure, the roads are broader than they are in India and as smooth as many highways in the developed world. None of that really matters, though – if you are going to have goatherds wantonly cut across the highway with their flocks, people driving on the wrong side of the highway (!!) to avoid 500 m of extra driving to a nearby u-turn, drivers going slow in the fast lane, and an abject disregard for lane discipline, no quality of road will help you! So Gujarat’s roads are good but they also warrant caution, something one tends to forget when a beautiful, black ribbon unfolds to the horizon.

One more thing I found absolutely bonkers about Gujarat is its dogs. Unlike normal creatures that get up and run away when a hominid or a speeding car approaches, these canines do not seem to have a care in the world. I have seen cars slow down for them as they do for cows. The only difference is, drivers are a little less worried about hitting dogs than cows. Naturally. Dogs form the bulk of roadkill on Gujarat’s highways because they also have the habit of leaping at speeding vehicles. That whole thing about puppies and wheels during the 2014 general election campaign is now beginning to take on an entirely different hue – avoiding puppies would require extra care in Gujarat!

After three days of long drives and getting up early, we thought it best to lie in for a day. We stayed in Ahmedabad and explored some of its culinary options as well as a couple of local sights. After some spectacular vadapav in the early afternoon, we headed over to Adalaj to see its famous stepwell, some 20 kms away from Ahmedabad. A quick comment on Gujarati cuisine: I still don’t like it, but it is significantly better than I thought after eating what passes as Gujarati food in Bombay. The dhabelis are a great snack option and the vadapav in Ahmedabad is much better than in its home state of Maharashtra! I did not try all the variants of Gujarati cuisine and honestly, I do not think I regret it. My munching style is far more suited to Iran and the cuisines of the countries around the Mediterranean.

Adalaj wellAnyway…Adalaj. The stepwell has an odd history, for starters. It was built by Mahmud Begada, the Sultan of Gujarat, for Queen Roopba, the wife of the Rana Veer Singh of the Vaghela dynasty of Dandai Desh as the territory around Adalaj was known then, after the former had invaded and killed the latter in battle. Begada was apparently overcome by the beauty of the slain king’s wife that he completed the project that Rana Veer Singh had started. Of course, the queen might have preferred that her kingdom not be invaded or her husband killed, but these are minor matters. The stepwell was built in 1499 and once Begada took over the task, in Islamic style. This meant that the well would have no human figurines but instead be decorated only by geometric patterns. Legend has it that the queen agreed to marry Begada only if he finished the well in the memory of her husband but committed suicide in the well as soon as it was completed.

Design on wall at Adalaj 1Adalaj is supposed to be beautiful and I can understand that theoretically. Unfortunately, after Rani ki Vav, it was difficult to see Adalaj as much more than a hole in the ground. The well goes down about five storeys and is quite impressive nonetheless. Some Hindu motifs such as the kalpavriksha and Ami Khumbor have survived the Islamic construction and even blended well with Islamic motifs. On the walls of the well and the many pillars can be found carvings of elephants of different sizes, and occasionally, small figurines of women engaged in domestic chores, dancers, and musicians. One can tell that Adalaj was partially built by a Hindu king from its architecture – the trademark prop and lintel system can be seen in the construction around the funnel of the well. I do not wish to take away from Adalaj – it is indeed a beautiful stepwell – but mayhap a bit bland after Rani ki Vav.

We returned to the city and I decided that I wanted to try out the much talked about Bus Rapid Transport System. The system has its plus points and minus points. On the plus side, the buses are all air-conditioned Volvo wagons and the dedicated lanes for the BRTS makes the journey really quick, especially during rush hour. On the minus side, BRTS is not integrated with the older bus systems in Ahmedabad that serve the more crowded localities and have roads narrower than BRTS can navigate. The stealing of two lanes by BRTS from a regular six-lane road also frustrates many motorists. However, the dedicated lanes solve the problem only up to a point – BRTS is vulnerable at traffic junctions. Ticket prices are comparable to similar services in other cities such as Bangalore.

Hutheesing Jain TempleI took the BRTS to visit the famous Hutheesing Jain Temple. Built in 1848, Hutheesing took Rs. 800,000 to build and is dedicated to the 15th thirthankara, Dharmanatha. The temple was built during a famine and its construction gave much-needed employment to hundreds of labourers and craftsmen. I was surprised to see the quality of craftsmanship that had gone into the temple; I did not expect to see a temple built so recently to even attempt to imitate the grandeur of the past. Hutheesing Temple does a decent job, though, and it makes me reflect unfavourably on all the Maratha temple renovations around the country that look amateurish by comparison.

Hutheesing Jain Column atTemple Craftsmanship at Hutheesing Hutheesing Jain Temple facade

Jama Masjid, Champaner 2On my last day in Gujarat, I decided to go see the other World Heritage site in the state – Champaner, or more accurately, Champaner-Pavagadh. I had not heard any great reviews of the place from any of my friends or relatives who had visited Gujarat previously but surely, a World Heritage site must have something to it! Champaner is 150 kms from Ahmedabad but a good chunk of that distance can be traversed on the National Expressway 1, perhaps the best stretch of road there is in India presently and running between Ahmedabad and Baroda.

Jama Masjid, ChampanerChampaner is no more than a village and a dirty one at that, albeit a 1,200-year-old one, and the points of interest are scattered all over the place. The Heritage Trust of Baroda lists 114 monuments there of which only 39 are being maintained by the ASI. The entire archaeological park contains mosques, temples, forts, wells, tombs, custom houses, and all sorts of interesting structures. Champaner must have been a strategic place because of all the hills surrounding it. Indeed, the Rajputs used the town as a stronghold in the region until they were defeated by Mahmud Begada in 1484. The town went into rapid decline after Mughal emperor Humayun sacked it in 1535.

Dome of Jama Masjid, ChampanerWe did not intend to spend three days in Champaner, sifting through all the monuments. For one, my history of Gujarat is weak and were I to attempt such a comprehensive tour, all monuments would start to blur into each other. I was particularly interested in the Jama Masjid and the Saat Kaman. The Jama Masjid is an interesting construction with several Hindu features incorporated into it. The building is on a plinth, is decorated by motifs such as pots, vines, and even lotuses, and its dome is lifted above the structure on short pillars to allow air to circulate inside. The ASI manages the site and it therefore has the obligatory lawns; however, Jama Masjid and indeed, Champaner itself, had hardly any tourists. I was beginning to wonder if India’s Ministry of Tourism even exists and it is not all just a myth.

Decoration on walls of Jama Masjid, ChampanerJama Masjid was a beautiful monument, as were a couple of the other mosques we stopped to see on the way to Jama Masjid. There was, nonetheless, a visible qualitative difference between the Jama Masjid and the other mosques. From the mosque, we drove to Saat Kaman, half way up Pavagadh Hill. There is a Kalika Mata temple on top and the route up is called patha, or pilgrim’s route. This path is considered to be the soul of Chamapner and the saat kaman, or seven arches, have become a marker of the town. When I got to there, I was sorely disappointed.

Saat KamanThe saat kaman are a very unassuming structure – small, tucked away, and simple. I have no earthly clue what made this one of the favourite subject for tourism posters of Gujarat. So shocked were we that we actually asked a guard nearby if this was indeed the much talked about saat kaman. The seven arches seems to have been a military outpost of some kind for the view from there was quite good and the breeze would be most enjoyable on a hot Gujarati summer’s day. We looked around a bit to see if we had missed anything – we still could not reconcile ourselves to the humbleness of the seven arches – and finally left.

There is much to see and do in Gujarat. One can visit the state as a pilgrim, a wildlife lover, a tourist, or even as a foodie. For me, it was clearly the history that attracted me. One thing that struck me as I readied to go home was that despite the shabby condition of several of the tourist attractions in Gujarat, not one of them sported the traditional Indian defacement of idiotic graffiti such as ‘Jignes loves Nehal’ or ‘Samir wuz here.’ I do not know how they achieved that – perhaps by not promoting tourism at all – but kudos, guys…excellent job.

Something else I noticed was the ubiquitous presence of signs in Gujarati. Everyone understands Hindi, at least in my experience, but signs in Gujarat, from signboards to nameplates, appear mostly in Gujarati. A distant second choice is English, but I saw very little Hindi. Of course, Gujarati is the state language and this should not have surprised me but I took for granted the presence of Hindi alongside English and the local language as I have experienced in Bombay and Bangalore. I suppose this will be an example for the parochially minded elements in other states I shall not mention!

All my travelogues have an ode to the Indian tourist, and this one should not be any different. The good news is that Gujarat’s historical treasures do not seem to suffer from the vandalism and littering other states in India do. The bad news is that the pendulum has swung to the other extreme on this, all the way to neglect and apathy. Dholavira and Lothal appear to be ghost towns in more ways than one but even at Champaner and Modhera, there were few tourists around. At Patan, Rani ki Vav had devolved into a picnic ground thanks to the beautiful lawns provided by the National Gardeners’ Association, also known as the ASI. People were eating, sleeping, and even playing badminton, all things I did not realise were on the agenda at the palaces of Schönbrunn or Versailles. What is more, I suspect many of them had come there with the express purpose of picnicking and not to see the stepwell.

I had a great trip. I already have two itineraries planned for my next visits, one exclusively focusing on the smaller Indus Valley sites that have fallen off the tourist map and another more general one covering the reserve forests, temples, and contemporary history – meaning post 1200 CE. Ahmedabad itself has a lot to offer that I could not avail of this time. This first reconnaissance visit achieved a lot in terms of sight-seeing as well as giving me a feel for the place, its infrastructure, and its logistics that you cannot get from the internet. Here is to hoping that “next time” will come soon 🙂

A few photographs from my travels:

Varaha, Rani ki Vav Mahishasuramardini, Rani ki Vav P1020258
Odissi, Modhera Odissi, Vamana avatara Odissi during Uttarardh, Modhera
Decoration on walls of Jama Masjid, Champaner
Design on wall at Adalaj 2 Statues on Hutheesing Jain Temple walls
Adalaj Jama Masjid, as seen from Saat Kaman Surya Mandir kalyani

This post appeared on Swarajya on May 03, 2015.

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A Chalukyan Odyssey

03 Mon Nov 2014

Posted by Jaideep A. Prabhu in India, Society, South Asia, Travelogue

≈ Comments Off on A Chalukyan Odyssey

Tags

Aihole, Aihole inscription, Ananthashayana, Archaeological Survey of India, ASI, Badami, Badami Chalukya, Banashankari Temple, Bhoothanatha Temple, Brahma Jainalaya Temple, Chalukya, Dambala, Doddabasappa Temple, Dravida, Hoysala, India, Itagi, Kalyani Chalukya, Kappe Arabhatta, Karnataka, Kashivishwanatha Temple, khanavali, Lakkundi, Lingayat, Mahadeva Temple, Mahakuta, Mahavira, Mahishasuramardini, Mallikarjuna Temple, Mangalesha, Meguti, Muthuswami Dikshitar, Nagara, Nanneshwara Temple, Pallava, Parsvananth, Pattadakal, Pulakeshi, Sudi, Tiruchenkaatankudi, tourism, travelogue, tripundra, Vatapi Ganapatim Bhaje, Vesara

They may not have built in the monumental scale of the Cholas nor with the same stunningly intricate stonework of the Hoysalas but the Chalukyas were certainly an important chapter in the history of Indian temple building and architecture. Last weekend, I finally put into action my North Karnataka itinerary and visited Badami, Pattadakal, and Aihole, the three most famous examples of Chalukya temple complexes.

It goes without saying that the value of any trip is enhanced by reading up on your destination; conversely, one could just travel with knowledgeable companions! It is useful to note that the Chalukyas were a prosperous dynasty that ruled southern and central India for six centuries from the 6th century to the 12th century. However, the dynasty was split into three branches – the Badami Chalukyas who rose to power with the fall of the Kadambas and ruled from Vatapi, the Vengi Chalukyas who broke off from the Badami Chalukyas to become a separate kingdom after the death of Pulakesi II, and the Kalyani Chalukyas who rekindled Chalukya hegemony in the western Deccan in the 10th century after it had been eclipsed by the Rashtrakutas some 200 years earlier. For such a long-lasting dynasty, the Chalukyas have remained one of the most underrated dynasties of Indian history.

Bangalore to BadamiDespite the central role the Chalukyas played in the history of Karnataka, I was shocked to find that there the Karnataka State Road Transport Corporation (KSRTC) did not run a bus service between Bangalore and Badami. After the Hoysala temples at Belur and Halebid and the Vijayanagara capital of Hampi, the cave temples of Badami are easily the most prominent on the map of Karnataka tourism and yet the state tourism development board remains nonplussed. We finally found private carriers to transport us.

Badami is about 470 kms north of Bangalore, about the same distance it is south of Pune in Maharashtra; it is slightly closer – 420 kms – to Hyderabad in one of those Gult states, I can’t remember which. If there are no direct buses to Badami from your city, consider connecting via Bagalkot, Hubli, Hospet, Dharwad, Bijapur, or Belgaum. For tourists living further away, train might be more suitable – Badami itself has a train station but the nearest major hub is Hubli, though Bijapur, Solapur, and Gadag may better suit your itinerary. For tourists living even further away, the nearest airports to Badami are Belgaum and Hubli.

Our hotelOur hotel in Badami was just outside the town and the bus driver allowed us to get off right in front of it instead of dragging us to the nearest scheduled stop. It was a very comfortable place and the manager was very helpful. Luckily for us, the hotel was a bare two kilometres away from the site of the Badami caves and we did not need to rent a car that day. The bus journey from Bangalore was about nine hours and so to save the productive daylight hours, we had taken the night bus. After checking in, a shower, and breakfast at our hotel, we chose to walk to the Badami caves.

Temple on the way to the fort in Badami 1Rather than simply enter through the main entrance and see the Bhoothnatha temple complex and the caves alone, we found a backdoor which let us access the fortress walls and the few temples interspersed around the keeps. Some of these spots are inaccessible by path and one would have to brave rocks, gravel, thorns, and short yet steep inclines to reach them. Our efforts not only yielded man-made structures but also a beautiful view of Agastya lake by the banks of which the rest of the historical site was situated. If one is inclined to use the proper channels to explore the fort, access to stone walkways can be gained by the small museum the Archaeological Survey of India has built.

Temple on the way to the fort in Badami 2The Badami museum probably does not have anything spectacular and houses only broken remains from the nearby temples. We could not visit it as the museum is closed on Fridays. Our next stop was the Bhoothanatha temple complex but on the way, we stopped by the famous Kappe Arabhatta inscription close by. It is dated to about 700 CE, and what makes it interesting is that it is in Kannada. By no means is it the oldest Kannada inscription but I am told it is a poem written in metre.

Bhoothanatha temple

The Bhoothanatha temple complex consists of two parts, usually referred to as the Upper and Lower compexes. The Upper part has several elements of Kalyani Chalukya architecture and was built in the 11th century while the more famous Lower complex is located most picturesquely on the banks of Lake Agastya and was built by the Badami Chalukyas in the 7th century. There is a path leading behind this temple where you’ll find a very small structure in which Vishnu is carved in the Ananthashayana form with Lakshmi in attendance.

Agastya Lake

Finally, we headed to the caves which are located on the other side of the lake maybe a kilometre away. They are four in number, and honestly, after Ellora, they appeared rather bland. However, such impossible yardsticks would require us to disregard the overwhelming majority of artistic endeavours worldwide and is neither fair nor fruitful. The caves were quite marvelous nonetheless. The first cave as you enter has a beautiful Mahishasuramardini on the right. The third cave is the biggest and is dedicated to Vishnu. Thanks to an inscription in it, we are quite certain it was created in 578 CE by King Mangalesha, uncle of Pulakeshi II. The final cave is a Jain cave, complete with its statue of Mahavira and one of Parshvananth.

The route from the temple complexes to the caves is absolutely filthy along the lake. It passes by houses with garbage liberally strewn around them, dirty water whose origins we would rather not contemplate upon, and pigsties. There may be a route from the main street, and it may be the advisable one.

The caves at Badami could be a little strenuous for some – there are quite a few steps which may be tiring. However, nothing stops one from taking a break in the middle and ascending in intervals. Beware not to carry anything you want to keep – there are quite a few monkeys at the site and they will most likely snatch any food or drink in your hand; one woman lost her handbag in front of us.

In the Badami fort walkwaysBefore returning to the hotel, we thought it might be time for some food again, seeing as we were totally lost in the beauty of the Badami monuments and had not eaten anything for about seven hours save a glass of sugarcane juice. Yet before food, we visited the famous Banashankari temple near Badami. The shrine is supposed to date back to the 6th century but the idol was replaced in the 17th century by a wealthy merchant. This sparked off a short conversation about “lived culture” and its potential drawbacks – because Hinduism is the oldest continuous culture, every generation that comes feels ownership of the temples built by their forefathers. Unfortunately, from a historical perspective, later generations may seek to renovate or improve upon older work. In the example of Banashankari temple, we are still left with a 400-year-old statue but the historian in me cringes at having missed a 1,500-year-old statue. The merchant was only trying to show his devotion and perhaps his gratitude for his success but that devotion and gratitude inadvertently came in the way of historical value.

One last point about Badami – as most people know, the town was called Vatapi in earlier times and was the capital of the Chalukya kingdom. Muthuswami Dikshitar was inspired by the Ganapati statue in Tiruchenkaatankudi (near Thanjavur) to compose his famous Carnatic music piece, Vatapi Ganapatim Bhaje. From the name of the statue, one can surmise that it originally resided in the Chalukya capital of Vatapi. However, Badami fell to the Pallava king Narasimha Varma in one of the many wars between the Chalukyas and the Pallavas. After the victory, a Pallava general named Paranjyoti carried away the Ganapati statue and had it installed in his hometown where it resides to this day.

Mallikarjuna temple at MahakutaOn the second day of our trip, we visited Mahakuta, Pattadakal, and Aihole. Each are about 15 kms from each other and our first destination, Mahakuta, about the same from Badami. Instead of hiring a car, we opted for one of those three wheeler auto rickshaws. Unlike their urban cousins, the rickshaws in Badami were built to carry more than three passengers.

Banyan tree at MahakutaThe Mahakuta temple complex is a set of small Shiva temples built in the 6th century. There are two main temples – Mahakuteshwara and Mallikarjuna – in the complex, the remainder of the nearly two dozen or so structures being smaller shrines. While the temples maintain the traditional lingam depiction of Shiva, there are several other depictions in the various shrines. Some are quite rare, like the urdhwaraheteshwara. One lingam is in the pushkarini on site, which serves as a shallow pool as well as a site of worship. What makes this lingam interesting is that it has four faces carved on it. Like at Badami, the Mahakuta temple complex has a couple of important inscriptions that have shed light on the history of the Chalukyas.

Krishna IyerThe complex also had a few ancient sculptures arrayed in a corner. These were probably once a part of the temples and shrines but either broke off or the shrines are standing no more. Nonetheless, any sculpture not damaged had the obligatory Shaivite tripundra smeared on it…including a Krishna statue! Particularly powerful at Mahakuta were the massive banyan trees that lent an air of overwhelming bliss to the place.

From Mahakuta, we proceeded to Pattadakal. The roads were atrocious, almost as bad as in Ladakh. It did not help that we were travelling in a rickshaw but I doubt a car would have made much of a difference. The roads in Badami are quite bad too but failed to make an impression since we had walked to the caves from our hotel. Yet below all the dust and gravel, they were just as bad. Away from national highways, roads in northern Karnataka are as pockmarked as a war zone.

Another thing I noticed was the rampant open defecation in the area. In the south, I had heard horror stories about the lack of development in the north but I never saw it when I occasionally drove from Mangalore to Bombay. Now, staying in the region for three days, the lack of roads, electricity, and sanitation was very apparent. Even the district capital was not free of people relieving themselves in the nearby fields.

Pattadakal 1It is easy to see why the Badami-Pattadakal-Aihole region is called the laboratory of Indian temple architecture. Pattadakal is a splendid complex of about a dozen 8th century temples built by the Badami Chalukyas and a couple added by the Rashtrakutas – the Kashivishwanatha and the Jain temple – a little later. The range of architectural experiments encompasses all three styles of Hindu temple building, the Dravidian, the Nagara, and the Vesara which is a little more than a hybrid of the former two.

Pattadakal 3 Relief at Aihole Pattadakal 4

At Pattadakal, I was quite annoyed by a couple of sets of tourists who clearly had no clue about the historical value of the place. Nor did they display an ability to appreciate the artistic or engineering elements of the site. They were clearly on vacation and the nice lawns seemed like yet another picnic spot for them. However, what annoyed me immensely was that they allowed the children in their groups – some three or four of them – to openly urinate on the lawns. This utter lack of civic responsibility is what hampers much of India’s development efforts, be they the Swachh Bharat Abhiyan or simply providing clean train compartments.

Pattadakal 2While I enjoyed Pattadakal immensely, it is not difficult for the ignorant tourist to suffer from an overdose of temples at Pattadakal. Not knowing the significance of the site or unable to distinguish the architectural innovations, engineering skill, and construction material, it is possible that all temples look the same. I overheard one tourist who had bumped into someone from his hotel say that he was done with the place in about 20 minutes! I overheard another tourist debating whether or not to see the entire complex since “it was just one temple after another” – blasphemous words to those interested in identifying every mural and sculpture in each temple!

Aihole Durga TempleFrom Pattadakal we went to Aihole. The temples of Aihole, though impressive, are not considered as magnificent as those at Pattadakal but the several inscriptions found at the site make the site a very important one for Indian history. Furthermore, it was established as the first capital of the Chalukyas in 450, before Pulakeshi I moved his court to Vatapi. The oldest temple at Aihole consequently dates back to the 5th century. Though Aihole has dozens of temples strewn all over the area, the Durga temple is the iconic image of the village.

Abandoned Chalukya templeAs far as I can tell, the main difference between a monument and a forgotten pile of stones in the general Dharwad area is in the attention given to it. There were several temples we could see from the road as we drove by that had simply been abandoned – apparently, India simply has too much heritage to care for it all!

MegutiIt was almost sunset by the time we were done with Aihole. We were a bit rushed at the end because we wanted to catch the sunset from Meguti because the photographers in our group informed me that it was supposed to be stunning from there. Well, the sun sets everyday…whatever! My interest in Meguti, Mahabharata buff that I am, was that it held the famous Aihole inscription on the Jain temple at the spot. The inscription dates the building of the temple (verse 33) in relation to the Great War mentioned in the Mahabharata. As scholars are wont to do, there is some debate over whether the inscription places the war around 3101 BCE or 5376 BCE.

Meguti sits atop a hillock but there are steps to the top. They are not at all difficult but they could be a bit of a run if you are racing against the sun at twilight. Beyond the inscription itself, the spot was quite pleasing with the temple sitting symmetrically in the middle of the tiny fort.

SudiOn the last day of our trip, we wandered off into the unknown. Or rather, I followed my friends who knew a lot more about the region than I did into villages I had never heard of until then. The rich find of temples, wells, and other remnants of the Chalukyas convinced me further about my theory of discards and monuments.

Vandalism at SudiOur first stop was Sudi, where a temple just stood abandoned. According to some young lads playing cricket outside, the ASI had recently sent some stone to the villagers and asked them to renovate it until they could come and grow a lawn around the temple. I was horrified to think that a bunch of untrained villagers had been tasked with restoring a historical site until I saw the vandalism inside the temple. Like many historical and/or abandoned temples around India, this one had lost all its idols too and there were two men sleeping inside – drunks, homeless, or lazy, I could not tell. What was even worse was the graffiti someone had drawn on a slab with inscriptions on it. This, sadly, is not an isolated case – I have seen such cretinism at almost all historical sites around India: Ellora, Hampi, Taj Mahal, Red Fort, Hawa Mahal, and more.

Itagi Mahadeva templeAfter Sudi, we went to Itagi and then to Lakkundi before ending our trip at Dambala. All these places had temples in the Kalyani Chalukya style of architecture unlike most of the ones we saw during the first two days. Despite not making it onto the tourist map, the Mahadeva temple at Itagi was quite exquisite. Lakkundi was a surprise for me because it had over 20 temples scattered around it and some of those temples were quite elaborate. The Brahma Jainalaya was most fascinating, holding the idols of both Mahavira and Brahma. Even more interestingly, the four faces of Brahma depicted a man at different times of his life and mirrored the four ashramas of the Hindus – brahmacharya, grihasta, vanaprastha, and sanyasa.

Brahma Jainalaya, LakkundiOur last day was the only day we had time to stop for lunch at an appropriate hour, and we tried a local Lingayat khanavali. Long story short, there is no food available in even one of the towns and villages we passed through. Not if, that is, words like hygiene and taste mean anything to you. I have noticed that Indians have an uncanny ability to eat anywhere and my companions certainly did not suffer from what I perceived to be a lack of cuisine. However, for the fainthearted, if proper food at regular intervals is a priority for you, I suggest getting it packed at your hotel in the morning or picking up fruits, crisps, biscuits, and sodas in any of the shops and stalls around.

Kashivishweshwara Temple at Lakkundi, with Surya shrine on rightThere were several other temples at Lakkundi such as the Kashivishveshwara, the Nanneshwara, and even a Surya temple, very rare for the South. One thing that really stood out was at the Lakkundi museum near the Brahma Jainalaya temple – an undamaged sculpture of Vishnu and Lakshmi, about a foot in height. Given Indian history and the public disregard for their heritage, one does not come across undamaged sculptures on a day-to-day basis. This one was exquisite but unfortunately, the museum does not allow photography inside.

Doddabasappa Temple at twilightWe reached Dambala late in the evening. However, the Doddabasappa Temple was striking in the twilight. This 12th century Kalyani Chalukya temple in some ways gives an indication of the era of temple building to come under the Hoysalas. It is based on a 24-point stellate plan and constructed out of the softer soapstone the Hoysalas would use a couple of centuries later. However, the Doddabasappa Temple lacks the intricacy of either the future Hoysala temples or even the other Kalyani Chalukya temples contemporaneous to it.

Doddabasappa Temple, DamabalaOur three-day trip to northern Karnataka was truly an enjoyable one. I suppose it is difficult to go wrong in Karnataka or Tamil Nadu, especially if one is interested in Indian history, as both states are saturated with jaw-dropping splendour. We were also aided by the beautiful weather; the best time to tour India is from October to February. The Indian summer runs from March to June and the monsoons have their way with the subcontinent from July to September. As much as I love the monsoons, the roads do not and logistics is always a bit harder in those months.

ASI works its magicSomething I noticed throughout the trip was that the ASI seems to have taken on the role of national landscapers. Everywhere we went, the temples that the ASI had adopted were surrounded by well-manicured lawns that brought Lodi Gardens in Delhi to mind. Unfortunately, that seemed to be most of what they did. The restoration work of the temples left much to be desired, not to mention thoughtless markings on the stone and addition of modern structures. There were few signs explaining what each monument was – what precious little explanation we could get was usually one one sign at the entrance that tried to explain everything about the complex. The lighting inside the temples was poor and one would have to be a photographer of at least some talent to capture any shots; furthermore, some temples smelled of bat faeces thanks to decades of neglect.

Mahishasuramardini at PattadakalOur entire trip can be compressed into a day if you are the type to visit places only for the sake of your Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter accounts. However, for those who want to absorb the Chalukyan air, plan for about four hours at Badami (without the fort visit), three to four hours for Pattadakal, and two to three for Aihole. This is assuming you stick only to the main complexes and do not wander into all the smaller temple complexes all over the area. The four villages on our last day are difficult to do as they require a bit of travelling between them. However, if you want to explore each of them properly, they should probably take two days on their own.

All in all, despite the bad roads, filth, virtually non-existent sanitation, and difficulty of procuring food, do not miss out on the splendour of the Chalukyas. It will be a trip well worth the nuisance!


This post first appeared on Swarajya on November 09, 2014.

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