• Home
  • About
  • Reading Lists
    • Egypt
    • Great Books
    • Iran
    • Islam
    • Israel
    • Liberalism
    • Napoleon
    • Nationalism
    • The Nuclear Age
    • Science
    • Russia
    • Turkey
  • Digital Footprint
    • Facebook
    • Instagram
    • Pocket
    • SoundCloud
    • Twitter
    • Tumblr
    • YouTube
  • Contact
    • Email

Chaturanga

~ statecraft, strategy, society, and Σοφíα

Chaturanga

Tag Archives: tandava

Wandering Around Tamil Country

01 Mon Feb 2016

Posted by Jaideep A. Prabhu in Society, Travelogue

≈ Comments Off on Wandering Around Tamil Country

Tags

acharya, Airavateshwara Temple, ananda tandava, bael, Bauddhayana, bhikshatana, brahman, brihad lingam, Brihadeeshwara Temple, Cauvery, Chandramaulishwara, Chidambara Rahasyam, Chidambaram, Chidambaram Mahatmyam, Chittrambalam, Chola, Coleroon, Dakshinamurthy, Darasuram, darshan, Darubanna, Divakaram, Divya Desam, Ganga, gopura, Hoysala, Hyder Ali, Ibn Battuta, India, jambu lingam, Kakatiya, Kampaheshwara Temple, Kampaheswarar Temple, karana, Keezh Ambalam, Krishnappa Nayak, Kulothunga II, Kulothunga III, Kumbakonam, lingam, Mahishasuramardini, Malik Kafur, Mohini, Muhammad bin Tughlaq, Muyalaka, Nataraja, Natya Shastra, Nayaka, Nayanar, nishkala thirumeni, Orlov diamond, Paadal Petra Sthalam, Palaiyarai, Pallava, pancha bootha, pancha sabhai, Pandya, Patanjali, prakara, Rajaraja Chola, Rajarajapuram, Rajendra Chola, Ramanuja, sakala thirumeni, sakala-nishkala thirumeni, Shaiva, Shiva, Shivacharya, Shwetavarman, Sri Ranganatha Swamy Temple, Srirangam, swayambhu kshetra, Tamil Nadu, tandava, Tanjan, Tevaram, thaanana thirumeni, Thanjavur, Thetri Ambalam, Thillai Nataraja Temple, tilak, Tipu Sultan, Tiruchitrakoodam, travelogue, Tribhuvanam, tripundra, Ulugh Khan, UNESCO, Vaishnava, Vengi, vibhuti, Vijayanagara, vimana, vishishtadvaita, Vishnu, Vishnudurga, Vyagrapada, World Heritage Site, yantra

Of late, wandering around Tamil Nadu seems to have become a hobby of mine. And who can blame me – with a rich heritage and dozens of stunning temples, it would take months to even cursorily pass by just the major sites. Some time around the Gregorian New Year, I had felt the call of Thillai Koothan; with that as the primary target, I persuaded my friends into a trip into Tamil country.

TripChidambaram is a small and rather unimpressive town with a population of about 60,000 not more than 15 kms inland from the Coromandel coast. It is about 235 kms south of Madras, the state capital, and connected by road as well as by rail. Though Tamil Nadu generally has fairly good albeit narrow roads, the roads on the approach to Chidambaram are quite rough. Anyone planning to drive in should factor in at least an extra hour to hour and half for the last 40 kms or so. The nearest airport, for those coming in from afar, is Tiruchirappalli, about 150 kms away; this, however, does not spare you from the last stretch of bumpy roads unless rail is availed.

Historically, Chidambaram has gone through three names – its ancient name was Thillai, after the mangrove trees of the Excoecaria Agallocha species that grow in the area. The second name, Puliyur or Perumpatrapuliyur, has mythical origins: it is said to derive from Vyagrapada, one of the two saints – the other was Patanjali – who came to Thillai to witness Shiva’s cosmic dance and to pray to him on the banks of a nearby lotus pond. Puliyur means ‘tiger town,’ after the saint whose name meant ‘tiger-footed.’ The third name and by which we know the town today, Chidambaram, means ‘ocean of consciousness.’ Chit means consciousness in Sanskrit and ambaram means ether. However, the scholarly consensus does not accept such a simple translation. It is argued – with some justification – that Chidambaram is a Sanskritised version of the Tamil name, Chittrambalam, which means the ambalam (or stage) placed at a lower pedestal (Keezh Ambalam). The ancient Tamil lexicon, Divakaram, defines Tiruchitrakoodam (the Vishnu Shrine within the temple complex) as Thetri Ambalam. Tamil scholars opine that this refers to the Vishnu shrine being present at a higher pedestal (Maettu Ambalam), while the Nataraja shrine was called the chittrambalam (the Keezh Ambalam).

Chidambaram, if not ancient, is still an old town. The first mention of a settlement in the vicinity is found in the 7th century collection of devotional poems to Shiva, the Tevaram, by the Nayanars: Appar and Sambandar identify the cult of a local dancing god in Chidambalam to Shiva. The nearby goddess cult of Perambalam was also subsumed into the legend of Chidambaram and cemented in the 12th century work, the Chidambaram Mahatmyam.

ChidambaramThillai Nataraja Temple has five sabhas and at least nine kalyanis. At the centre of the temple is the chit sabha with its golden dome, where Nataraja is depicted performing the ananda tandava. In the ardha mandapam of this shrine are shown Vyagrapada and Patanjali, and a sanctum is also present for Shiva’s consort, Parvati. As is the case with most South Indian temples, every minute detail of a temple, from the number of pillars to the depiction of the primary idol, has meaning. The ananda tandava is one of the many forms of Shiva’s cosmic dance, its main disposition in this instance, as the name suggests, being joy. Hindu myths say that Shiva was wandering around a forest called Daruvanna as a bhikshatana with Vishnu as Mohini. The rishis were enamoured by Mohini while their wives became love-sick for the bhikshatana. When the rishis realised what had happened, they were furious and they sent a tiger from their sacrificial fire against the bhikshatana. Shiva just laughed and killed the tiger, tearing off its skin to use as a makeshift sarong. Enraged, the rishis sent poisonous snakes against the man who had enchanted their wives. Again, Shiva just calmly took the snakes and wrapped them around his arms and waist as ornaments. Next, the rishis use black magic to create a fierce dwarf, Muyalaka, and order him to slay Shiva. However, he is dispatched without much effort too. Finally, the rishis send their sacrificial fire itself to burn the intruder. Shiva calmly takes the flame upon his left hand and begins to dance atop the slain demon-dwarf with a smile upon his face. Realising their folly, the sages fell to the floor before Shiva. This is why the Nataraja in the temple is shown performing the ananda tandava.

It is not clear when the temple was originally built; all we have now are records of renovations and expansions by later emperors of the Pallava, Chola, Vijaynagara, and Nayaka dynasties which still puts the temple at around 800 years old. However, it is believed that the temple was first built by King Shwetavarman in the 6th century when he was cured of leprosy by bathing in one of the ponds in the Thillai vanam. Today, that pond is the Shivaganga kalyani.

Chidambaram doorway karanasFrom a distance, the Thillai Nataraja Temple’s four gopura are the most visible sights, of course. They are all later additions to the temple and scholars date them to the 12th century at the earliest. The first thing one sees upon entering the temple is the exquisite miniature sculptures of the 108 karanas in the Natya shastra. These adorn all the entrances to the temple and cannot be missed. Such numerous depictions are found only in five of Tamil Nadu’s temples that I can recall. It is only appropriate that Chidambaram be one of those temples for all dance is supposed to have originated from Shiva’s tandava and the Thillai Nataraja Temple is one of the most important Shiva temples that carries a prominent depiction of Nataraja. However, it is not Shiva but a woman, accompanied by two musicians, who performs the karanas on Chidambaram’s gateways.

Directly in front of the chit sabha is the Kanaka sabha where most of the daily rituals are conducted. The Nritta sabha is in the form of a chariot and said to commemorate Shiva’s victory over the three aerial cities of Tripura. The wheels of the sabha are the sun and the moon, the car of the chariot is Prithvi, Brahma took on the role of the charioteer, Mount Meru is the bow, Vasuki the bowstring, and Vishnu the arrow released by Shiva to destroy Tripura. According to lore, Shiva defeated the goddess Kali in a dance competition in this sabha. after a fierce duel with a powerful demon, Kali could not calm down. Shiva challenged her to a dance to direct her energy and while dancing, performed the urdhva tandava. This reminded the warrior goddess of her true form, the peaceful Parvati, and she took control over herself. The Deva sabha is generally closed to the public though it may have once been used as an audience hall for visiting kings. The Raja sabha is a thousand-pillared hall that is actually ten short of reaching four digits; it is probably among the later additions and is used only during the rathotsava where Shiva and his consort, Shivakamasundari, are worshipped.

After the staggering beauty of the temples at Madurai, Tirunelveli, Thirukkurungudi, or even the temples of Kanchipuram, the Thillai Nataraja Temple of Chidambaram was slightly disappointing. The temple complex still sits over 40 acres but the scale of the temple is smaller and it lacks the exquisite figurines, musical pillars, and other features we take for granted in major Tamil temples. Yet what the temple lacks in imperial grandeur is compensated for in the beauty of the idol of the main deity, the Nataraja form of Shiva.

Chidambaram Nataraja frescoNataraja faces south at Chidambaram. This is not done for any deity except Shiva since the south is considered inauspicious because the cardinal point is the abode of Yama, the god presiding over death. Shiva faces south to signify his conquest over Death. While the Nataraja is sakala thirumeni (manifest deity) of the temple, right in front of him is the sakala-nishkala thirumeni (aniconic) form in the shape of a spatika (crystal) lingam. It is believed to be a fragment of Chandramaulishwara, the crescent that adorns Shiva’s head, and installed in the temple by Adi Shankaracharya. In the same shrine, next to the Nataraja is the nishkala thirumeni, the formless ether, symbolised by an empty chamber whose entrance is covered by a red-and-black curtain with a yantra on it. Behind the curtain is a string of 51 golden Aegle marmelos leaves, more commonly known as bael. The curtain is parted slightly at each puja – there are six per day – so that devotees may glance at the formless lingam through a latticed window. This is the Chidambara rahasyam, or the secret of Chidambaram.

The temple at Chidambaram is one of the pancha bhootha sthala, one of the five Shiva temples each of which has a lingam manifested in one of the different prime elements of nature; Chidambaram holds the akasha lingam. Finding a mention in the Tevaram, the temple is a paadal petra sthalam. The Thillai Nataraja Temple is also one of the pancha sabhai, one of the five temples where Shiva is said to have performed his cosmic dance. Each of these temples have at least an ambalam or sabhai that holds a Nataraja but Chidambaram is the only temple in the world that has Nataraja as the primary deity. Chidambaram’s ambalam is known as pon-ambalam (gold hall). Yet another specialty of the temple is is that it is one of the aadhara sthala, the physical manifestation of Tantric chakras associated with human anatomy, and Chidambaram represents the ajna chakra. Little wonder, then, that Chidambaram has not developed into a tourist spot and pilgrims are left to themselves…though not in peace for the crowds are truly Indian in size and nature! Furthermore, only Hindus are allowed into the temple. Photography is not allowed within temple premises.

Chidambaram MahishasuramardiniInterestingly, the Thillai Nataraja Temple also contains a shrine for Vishnu and is one of the 108 divyadesams. It is difficult not to chuckle at occurrences such as this given the animosity between the Shaivites and Vaishnavites. Ekambareshwar Temple in Kanchipuram is also such a dual shrine where the Vishnu shrine has been placed such that worshippers cannot avoid a pradakshina around the primary Shiva lingam to get to it. Govindaraja Swamy, as Vishnu is called at the Chidambaram temple, has his shrine right in front of the chit sabha and is reclining on Ananta with his feet towards Nataraja; the shrine is also higher than the chit sabha. There have been many disputes between the Vaishnavite priests and the Dikshitars, the priests officiating over the rituals for Shiva, some of which have even gone to court. Apparently, the shrine was moved outside the temple premises during the reign of Kulothunga II in the early to mid 12th century but was returned to its present location by Krishnappa Nayak in the mid-1500s.

The Dikshitars are a group of Shaiva brahmins who follow Vedic rituals to worship Shiva and not agamic practices like the Shivacharya brahmins. Their rituals are apparently based on the works of both Bauddhayana and Patanjali. Legend has it that the Dikshitars were brought from Kailasa to Thillai by Patanjali for the specific purpose of maintaining the Chidambaram temple. Once, Brahma requested 3,000 Dikshitar priests to perform a Vedic ritual at his abode. When they were done, they returned to earth but to their dismay, found that one had gone missing. At this point, a voice from the chit sabha called out that Nataraja himself was the last of the Dikshitars. Today, they are about 360 in number.

The temple opens at six o’clock in the morning and remains open until noon when it closes for a siesta. It reopens at 5:00 PM and closes at 10:00 PM. It is best to get to the temple as it opens and catch the first puja around 7:00 AM when the priest goes to the Palliyarai to bring the deity to the sanctum sanctorum. During the second puja, a ruby Nataraja is also anointed and the burning of camphor before and behind the idol accentuates its translucence. The last puja of the day, the arthajaamam, starts around 9:00 PM and is conducted with greater fervour for the belief is that all the deities of the temple gather around the chit sabha and the divine forces are concentrated in the Nataraja before he retires.

The religious importance of Chidambaram made it a very attractive target for invaders. The Thillai Nataraja Temple was brutally ransacked by the forces of Malik Kafur in the early 14th century and desecrated again by the British, French, and the Islamic rulers of Mysore who used the temple premises as barracks and the prakara as fortifications.

Hotels should not be difficult to find in Chidambaram unless you show up during a festival. There are only a few hotels in town given the small population but they are mostly decent and there should be no trouble in securing basic amenities such as clean sheets, hot water, and air conditioning. Tamil Nadu has three seasons – hot, hotter, and hottest – and the best time to visit for tourists is December or January. Be warned, though, that the sun can be quite sharp even in those months.

We had gone to the Thillai Nataraja Temple at the crack of dawn but were done only by late morning. After a quick breakfast, we pushed on to Darasuram, about 75 kms southeast of Chidambaram. No more than a large village of about 13,000 people, Darasuram is famous primarily for its famous Airavateshwara Temple. Despite being added to the list of UNESCO Heritage Sites in 2004, the temple remains off the beaten track for most tourists. Airavateshwara Temple is one of the four great imperial Chola temples, albeit the smallest of them.

DarasuramWe chose to visit Darasuram after Chidambaram because the Airavateshwara Temple, unlike others on our itinerary, was not a functioning temple. Sure, there is an aarti at certain times of the day but there were no rituals performed at the temple that would mark this temple as functional. Largely, this meant that it would remain open in the afternoon for us to visit.

Airavateshwara Temple was built by Raja Kambeera Mamannan, also known as Rajaraja Chola II, in the mid-12th century when he moved his capital from Gangaikondacholapuram to Palaiyarai, renaming the town Rajarajapuram. Over time, the name evolved to its present form. The temple was also called Rajarajeshwara but had been renamed by the 15th century. Dedicated to Shiva, the deity here is known as Airavateshwara because of a legend that tells how Airavata, the chief among Indra’s elephants, was granted relief from Durvasa’s curse: the poor thing had lost its white colour and was restored to its former beauty by bathing in the sacred waters of this temple. Similarly, Yama also bathed in the waters of the Airavateshwara Temple to escape from a rishi‘s curse that caused a burning sensation all over his body.

NandiAiravateshwara Temple is a small structure by any stretch of imagination. Its vimana rises barely 85 feet and the entire complex can be contained in a couple of acres. The main mantapa does not even have a circumambulatory path. Nonetheless, Airavateshwara Temple is one of the most exquisite temples for my money. It contains dozens of spectacular and intricate sculptures, some betraying Pala influence as well. Of particular note are the Vishnudurga, Dakshinamurthy, and Ganga figurines. There is also a panel of miniatures depicting the lives of the 63 Nayanars in great detail. There is a clear theme to all the engravings and miniature sculptures in the temple – music and dance. The temple has three main mantapas, the mukha mantapa depicted as a chariot with wheels and stone horses, the maha mantapa, and the ardha mantapa. Shiva’s consort at this temple is known as Periya Nayaki Amman which was probably part of the temple but now stands alone as a detached temple. Outside the eastern entrance is a large Nandi, behind which are a set of musical stone steps; these steps have now been sealed off in a metal grill to protect them from local children.

The temple at Darasuram was never a focal point of religious practice or debate as Chidambaram was but royal patronage ensured it remained active. As the other Great Chola temples attest, it had become common practice to build royal shrines. While it may be a stretch to say that the Chola emperors sought to elevate themselves and their ancestors to quasi-divine status, the builder’s mark on these temples is unmistakeable. The four Great Chola temples are probably the only ones in which the central vimana towers over the gopura.

Chariot mantapa, DarasuramTo escape the Tamil Nadu sun – yes, even in January! – we found a nice shady and windy spot in the prakara of the Airavateshwara Temple for a short snooze. After all, that was one of the purposes of the colonnaded halls! It is incredible how cool the corridors were, with plenty of shade and wind tunnels. In fact, I have half a mind to go around Tamil Nadu taking an afternoon nap in all the major temples…I should probably get an extra thread for this achievement 😀 We left Darasuram for Tribhuvanam around 4:00 PM after the aarti.

The treasures of Airavateshwara Temple, Darasuram

Prakaram at Darasuram Gajasthamba, Darasuram Yali at foot of pillar, Darasuram
Dakshinamurthy, Darasuram Bas relief on pillars Vishnudurga, Darasuram
Ganga, Darasuram Lingodbhava, Darasuram Virabhadra, Darasuram

Tribhuvanam is about eight kilometres from Kumbakonam and is the site of the Kampaheshwara Temple, built by Kulothunga Chola III in the late 12th century. Also one of the Great Chola temples, it is the newest of the four with its vimana rising to about 120 feet. The main mantapa is built like a chariot with events from the Ramayana decorating the temple walls. A rare appearance of Sarabeshwarar, the lion-man-eagle rupa Shiva took to pacify Narasimha, can also be found at the Kampaheshwara Temple. Legend has it that Shiva cured the kampa (quaking – epilepsy?) of a king who was haunted by a brahmarakshasa because he had accidentally killed a brahmin. The more prosaic reason, however, is that the temple was built to commemorate Kulothunga Chola III’s military victories against the Hoysalas, Vengi, and probably the Kakatiyas.

We reached the temple as it opened for the evening and there was not too big a crowd. Oddly, there were even fewer tourists present than at Darasuram; I suppose with Thanjavur so close by, it would take only a real South India aficionado to discover the smaller Chola temples. As a functioning institution, Kampaheshwara Temple follows strict hours and closes in the afternoon – tourists would be well advised to plan accordingly. With the sightseeing at Tribhuvanam done, we called it a day and headed to Thanjavur for the night. Good accommodation is available much closer in Kumbakonam but it made more sense with our itinerary to get closer to our next morning’s destination.

Entrance to BrihadeshwaraThere is no mention of Thanjavur in the records until the 4th century. The name is thought to have been derived from an asura by the name of Tanjan who was killed by Neelamegha Perumal, a local deity considered an avatara of Vishnu. Another theory is that the original name was Thanseioor, meaning something to the effect of ‘rice paddy between rivers,’ no doubt indicating the settlement’s position in the Cauvery delta and its chief crop. Thanjavur, simplified to Tanjore by the British, has been an important city since about the 9th century. It has been ruled by several Hindu dynasties and was even the capital of the Chola empire for about 150 years towards the end of the first millennium. About 340 kms from Madras by road and 60 kms from Tiruchirapalli Airport, Thanjavur is well connect by road, rail, and air.

Gateway, BrihadeshwaraThe Brihadeshwara Temple of Thanjavur is one of the most famous temples of Tamil Nadu. Completed in 1010 by Emperor Arulmozhivarman, commonly known as Rajaraja Chola I and arguably the greatest of the Chola emperors, it is the oldest of the great Chola temples. With a soaring vimana of 216 feet, the Brihadeshwara Temple is also the largest of the Great Chola temples. Everything about the temple is grand: the kalasha at the top of the vimana is a single rock that weighs 80 tonnes, and a 20-tonne monolithic Nandi, albeit replaced by the Nayakas in the 16th century, faces a 3.7 metres tall lingam. The dwarapalakas of the garbha griha are 18 feet tall themselves. It is the first all-granite temple in India, though a facade of softer rock that was more amenable to sculpting was also created. To this day, the Brihadeshwara Temple stands as the tallest temple in India.

IMG_5817Like most big temples in India, Brihadeshwara Temple has also seen several additions by later rulers; the shrine to Shiva’s consort, Brihannayaki, was added by the Pandyas, the Subramanya shrine was constructed by the Vijayanagara rulers, and the Vinayaka shrine – truth be told, a bit of an eyesore in the midst of stone opulence – was contributed by the Marathas. The Nayakas added several paintings over the original Chola murals.

Vimana of Brihadeshwara TempleRajaraja Chola I died shortly and several unfortunate occurrences are said to have plagued the royal family. A superstition took hold that any king entering the temple through the grand main entrance – the Keralantaka Vayil – would soon lose his crown if not his life. When the Nayakas conquered Tanjore they had a 18-foot fortified wall with a 15-foot moat built around the temple. This wall enclosed the main entrance, thereby blocking it for royal or public use. Later, the Marathas, who succeeded the Nayakas, broke down the part of the wall blocking access to the main entrance and built a torana in front of the main entrance which was thrown open, once again, for public use. Rajaraja Chola’s son, Rajendra Chola, inexplicably moved the capital from Thanjavur to Gangaikondacholapuram and had a Brihadeshwara temple built there. It is one of the Great Chola temples, though not as magnificent as the original.

IMG_5823There is a lot to see at the temple, even if it is not so ornate as the one at Darasuram. The brihad-lingam, with its tripundra of vibhuti and a red tilak, looks divine. The most striking feature of the temple, however, is that the vimana is hollow. Some say that the column of air above the lingam that such a structure allows is the ‘true’ lingam, or rather that the air lingam is the manifestation of the highest brahman. Nowhere else has this been replicated and if this is a valid interpretation of Rajaraja Chola’s intent, it is a welcome metaphysical facet to the temple that is otherwise more a testament to an emperor’s ego than any spiritual inclination. Yet, to be fair, temples did not serve purely religious functions back in the day; they were active in welfare, education, and health. A royal shrine can still be important in the lives of the local population.

Nayaka painting on ceiling of Nandi mantapa, BrihadeshwaraSince we had all been to Brihadeshwara Temple before, we spent about an hour and a half there. I hesitate to venture how long others might need for it depends on how they define ‘seeing’ a temple. Some treat it as a surgical strike – darshan and out, while others like to wander, look at the sculptures, paintings, and wonder about the sthalapurana. At all the three of four Great Chola temples that we visited, there was little by way of information signposts and there were no guides save at Brihadeshwara. Tourists would have to to their homework before they come or arrange for a guide from their hotel or travel agency. For all its enormous tourist potential, India remains a primitive backwater.

Chola political influence extended into Southeast Asia and it is natural that their cultural influence would follow. The principles of many of these temples can be seen in Hindu and Buddhist shrines all over Cambodia, Indonesia, and Vietnam. Of course, the Cholas were subject to external influences as well. The Pala style is particularly visible in some of the later temples. The Palas were a Buddhist dynasty in Bengal that flourished from the 8th to the 12th centuries and Chola contacts with them, either through warfare or through trade routes, brought many Pala sculptors and architects south into Tamil Nadu in search of patronage. Perhaps the clearest indication of this flow of talent can be seen in the way some of the statues are finished – Pala artisans used a softer stone, or covered a semi-finished hard stone with softer material like terracotta, and gave a smooth, shiny appearance to their figurines. Cholas, on the other hand, finished their work in the same hard stone. This meant that the end product lacked the polish and finesse of comparable Pala work though there were just as spectacular in terms of artisanal skill that went into the creation.

The sights at Brihadeshwara Temple, Thanjavur

Gopuram at Brihadeshwara entrance Stone lizard, Brihadeshwara Long view, Brihadeshwara
Dwarapalak, Brihadeshwara Ganpathi, Brihadeshwara Bhikshatanamurthi, Brihadeshwara
Sculptures on entrance gopuram 3, Brihadeshwara Sculptures on entrance gopuram 2, Brihadeshwara Sculptures on entrance gopuram 1, Brihadeshwara
Grantha inscription, Brihadeshwara Kartikeya, Brihadeshwara Nataraja, Brihadeshwara

Our next stop was Srirangam, a small island surrounded by the Cauvery and the Coleroon. Its Sri Ranganatha Swamy Temple, one of the 108 divya desam, is not only the largest temple in India at 156 acres but the largest functioning temple in the world and among the most sacred shrines for Vaishnavas. No one really knows when the temple was first consecrated but the earliest inscriptions come from the 10th century, making it at least 1,100 years old. Tradition has it that it is one of the eight swayambhu kshetras of Vishnu. Its mention in the Tamil epic, the Silapadikaram, speaks to is further antiquity as does its inclusion by the Vaishnavite mystics, the Alwars, in their 5th-8th century poetic compositions known as the Divya Prabandham. The legend of Ranganatha Swamy is similar to that of Ravana and the Vaidyanath jyotirlinga in Deoghar, though perhaps without the sense of impending doom. In this case, Rama had given the idol of Vishnu he personally worshipped to Vibheeshana to take to Ceylon as a token of appreciation for his help in the war against Ravana, his own brother. The only condition was that the statue should be set down anywhere before its final resting spot. However, the Ceylonese king had to set the idol down on the banks of the Cauvery where the Ranganatha Swamy Temple is because of an utsav proceeding through the area. When the procession had gone by, Vibheeshana tried to lift the idol but to no avail – it had become firmly entrenched into the ground. A temple was built on the spot but over time, was lost to nature. It was rediscovered by a Chola king many years later.

Srirangam gopura from roof 2The temple has seven prakaras with 21 gopura, its perimeter being slightly over four kilometres. The gopuram on its southern wall rises to about 240 feet, making the Ranganatha Swamy Temple the tallest temple in the world. Given the sprawl of the temple premises, it is quite possible that the entire town once lived within its walls. Hundreds of inscriptions have been found on the temple walls and pillars. Together, they give historians a fairly decent picture of the social, economic, and political conditions of the time. The substantial royal patronage that flowed to Srirangam documents the growth in wealth and influence of the temple. It is worth noting that though the Cholas were Shaivites and the squabbling between the different mathas had started in their time, they continued to support all dharmic institutions within their realm.

Srirangam changed hands many times over the centuries. The Cholas, Ordras, Hoysalas, Pandyas, Vijayanagara, and the Nayakas all ruled over the city and made generous additions to the temple. However, Srirangam also felt the love of the Muslim invasions, first in 1311 and then again in 1323. The town fell under Islamic rule in 1331 and was liberated only in 1371 when Kumara Kampanna Udaiyar of the Vijayanagara Empire defeated the Muslim ruler of Madurai, Sikhandar Khan. Hindus under this Islamic rule were cruelly repressed as the chronicles of Ibn Battuta and others reveal.

Srirangam WallThe armies of Malik Kafur, Ulugh Khan, and the Madurai Sultanate stripped the temple bare; its coffers and granaries were plundered as were the ornaments of gold and precious stones. Gold was peeled off domes and pillars and golden statues, ornaments, and vessels were carried off. Some commanders used the temple premises as quarters for their soldiers and garrisoned on the island. To give some idea of the wealth Srirangam possessed, the donations of just one king – Jatavarman Sundara Pandya – should provide a glimpse. Inscriptions tell us that the king offered many tulabharas worth of gold, silver, and jewels to the temple. He is said to have covered the Ranga vimana with gold and built three additional golden domes. Jatavarman gifted garlands of pearls and emeralds, a crown of jewels, a golden ship for the Teppattirunal, golden vessels, and made several infrastructural additions to Srirangam. It is to the Vijayanagara kings and generals to whom most of the credit for restoring the temple to some semblance of its former glory goes. They donated gold, silver, jewels, and art generously, even entire villages as devadana. The Nayakas added the paintings on the walls and ceilings in the 16th century. The armies of Hyder Ali and Tipu Sultan also came by Srirangam but the damage was not as severe this time. The thick walls of the temple attracted British and French forces to use the buildings as barracks as well. The temple is now under the mismanagement of the Tamil Nadu Hindu Religious & Charitable Endowments Board.

Not all of Srirangam’s wealth was lost through plunder. Some of it was simply stolen. Perhaps the most famous example of this is Orlov’s diamond, a 189.62 carat stone mined in Kollur but now owned by Russia’s Diamond Fund. Though the details are sketchy, it seems the jewel that was the tilak on Ranganatha. was stolen in 1747 by a French soldier who had pretended to be a devotee. I suppose the hostility towards non-Hindu visitors is a little clearer now. On a side note, I wonder why none of India’s nationalist rabblerousers ask Vladimir Putin for the diamond back as they heckle David Cameron for the Kohinoor.

Vijayanagara cavalry on pillar at 1000 Pillar Hall, Srirangam Vijayanagara cavalry from front at 1000 Pillar Hall, Srirangam See the details of the carving 2 - 1000 Pillar Hall, Srirangam
This is a cavalryman carved into one of the pillars of the 1,000 Pillared Hall built by the Vijayanagara kings; the same sculpture is photographed from the right, front, and left. Notice the fine details of the carving in the third picture.

When you walk into the temple, it feels like you have walked into a small town. Between the prakaras, there are entire houses, shops, food stalls, and flower vendors. There are great crowds at Srirangam, so be prepared to wait for at least an hour in the queue for darshan. There are faster queues for ₹50 and ₹250 which might suit out-of-town tourists better. On my first pass through the temple a few years ago, it took a good four or five hours to see the temple but this time, we took just three hours. Non-Hindus are allowed up to the second prakaram but no further and photography is prohibited in parts of the temple. There are several mantapas and shrines and what makes them interesting rather than repetitive is that they were added over the centuries and show different artistic influences. For example, there is a thousand-pillared hall (which is missing some 40 pillars) that was built in the Vijayanagara style with plenty of horses on their rear legs at the base of the pillars and there is the Garuda mantapa which was added by the Nayakas.

Srirangam gopura from roof 3You can purchase a ticket for ₹10 to climb up to the roof from where you can see all the gopura unhindered. Be warned, though – the roof can get pretty hot! Though the rajagopuram, the tallest of them all, was added only in 1987, the rest of the 20 gopura were built between the 14th and 17th centuries. One can only assume from other temples in the state that older gopura were pulled down by invaders in an effort to bring down the entire temple. It goes without saying that visitors should check the temple timings if they want a darshan – as a functioning temple, it closes in the afternoon and timings during festivals may vary.

Srirangam’s name is even more famous because of its association with Ramanuja, the great 11th century Vaishnavite philosopher, theologian, and leading proponent of vishishtadvaita. Ramanuja renounced his worldly life and came to Srirangam to meditate on the scriptures. Over his lifetime, he wrote several books expounding his theories, the most famous of which is the Sri Bhasya. Hymns from his Gadhya Trayam are still recited in the temple. During his time in the Ranganatha Temple, Ramanuja is said to have implemented several reforms in administration and temple affairs. His scholarship made Srirangam the epicentre of vishishtadvaita scholarship and Hindu A shrine to the acharya is found in the fourth prakaram and the thaanana thirumeni – symbolic body – is ritualistically coated with saffron and camphor every six months. In fact, a large part of the temple grounds are dedicated to the growing of saffron to be used in this ceremony. Ramanuja was the only person to be interred inside the Srirangam temple, probably owing to the belief that he was an amsha avatara of Adishesha, and his mula vigraham is constructed over his relics. I have heard some tour guides say that the Ramanuja shrine contains the actual embalmed body of the acharya and if you look closely, it is possible to see his nails. This is complete hogwash as anyone with a basic science degree can tell you – the exposure to the elements, particularly water, would have destroyed any mummy in the 800 or so years the thirumeni is supposed to be.

Bassorilievi on the pillars of the Sri Ranganatha Swamy Temple, Srirangam

Reliefs on pillars 12, Srirangam Reliefs on pillars 11, Srirangam Reliefs on pillars 9, Srirangam
Reliefs on pillars 10, Srirangam Reliefs on pillars 8, Srirangam Reliefs on pillars 7, Srirangam

Our last stop of the trip was the Jambukeshwarar Akilandeswari Temple in Thiruvanaikaval. A paadal petra sthalam and a pancha bhoota sthalam – jambu lingam – it is an important temple from a religious viewpoint and is believed to have been built by Kochenga Chola, making it approximately 1,800 years old. Unfortunately, we were out of time for this trip and we stopped by only for a darshan of Akhilandeshwari. Hindu mythology tells the story of how Parvati once mocked Shiva’s penance for the betterment of the world. Miffed, Shiva condemned his wife’s words and told her to leave Kailasa and do penance. Parvati, in the form of Akhilandeshwari, left Kailasa and came to the Jambu forest where she proceeded to make a lingam out of water from the Cauvery and meditate upon it under a Venn Naaval tree. When at last Shiva was satisfied, he appeared before Akhilandeshwari and gave her the Shiva gnana. Since she took the teachings facing east, her statue faces east in the temple and Shiva faces west. The priest conducting the midday puja to Shiva wears a sari to symbolise Akhilandeshwari praying to Shiva.

The temple is not a small one though just after Srirangam, it feels puny. Nonetheless, it has five prakaras and is said to have a rare depiction of Kartikeya with a demon under his foot. Sadly, there is little more I can tell of this temple except that it is in my list of places in Tamil Nadu to visit soon. This was a short trip, over a regular weekend rather than an extended one, and we packed in a fair amount of sightseeing even though we promise ourselves each time to set a more relaxed pace next time! I guess it is the excitement of seeing the marvellous buildings and sculptures that numbs us to our fatigue.

Most of the temples I have visited are from approximately the same period, between 800 and 1200. The last temple that we did not see was quite the lesson in its unusual statue of Kartikeya. I have an eye for the Nataraja and the Mahishasuramardini, and variations in their posture leap out to me. The variation is insignificant among Chola temples of the medieval era but when comparing temples of an earlier age or a different location, it is remarkable to see how strong Chola influence was in the arts and the gradual standardisation of deity postures. Even at Mahabalipuram, Mahishasura is shown running away from Durga rather than under her feet; at Cave XVI in Ellora, Mahishasura looked more like a man with odd martial headgear than a buffalo as he came to be represented. Skanda went atop a peacock, Mahishasura went under Durga’s foot, and the Nataraja evolved in several ways too. Perhaps these are obvious observations to those well-versed in Indian art history but to me, not even an amateur, they are profoundly interesting.

If you are truly interested in Indian art and architecture, the only way to visit South Indian temples is two or three days at a time. That should allow for about six temples; any more, in my opinion would simply result in temple fatigue, where all the sculptures begin to appear similar and the finer points are entirely missed. I realise this is not very helpful for anyone outside the four southern states of India, but that is just how it is. I remember how, on one of my 15-day trips through Spain, all the churches started to look alike after about the eighth day…and those are rather simple structures in comparison to temples like Airavateshwara. One option is to break the pattern with something completely different like Rajasthani forts, the ruins of the Indus Valley Civilisation, or scuba diving in the Andamans. However, this luxury puts tourist budgets under much stress.

The temples could have been cleaner, as I have said many times before, but travelling with friends from the region immunises you from the woes of ordinary tourists. The general impression that I got from Darasuram and Thanjavur was that a lot of work remains to be done in making these places tourist-friendly but until then, I suggest everyone find a knowledgeable Tamil friend or three – there is no better way to travel that South Indian state!

A few photographs from our Tamil walkabout:

Brihadeshwara View from the garbha gudi, Darasuram Gajasthamba at Darasuram
Relief 1, Darasuram View down one of the prakaras Relief on pillar, Darasuram
Reliefs on pillars 2, Srirangam Pillar in 100 Pillar Hall Nayaka painting in prakaram 1, Brihadeshwara
Nayaka painting in prakaram 2, Brihadeshwara Relief 2, Darasuram Smaller shrine at Brihadeshwara

Share this:

  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)
  • Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)
  • Click to print (Opens in new window)
  • More
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)

Like this:

Like Loading...

Mokshapuri Kanchi

09 Mon Feb 2015

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

≈ Comments Off on Mokshapuri Kanchi

Tags

Adivaraha, Airavateshwara, Archaeological Survey of India, ASI, azvarkal, Chennai, Chola, Dakshina Murthy, Dennis Hudson, Divya Desam, Divya Prabhanda, Ekambareshwara, Gajasura Samhara, Kailashanatha, Kalidasa, Kamakshi Amman Kovil, Kanchipuram, Madras, Mahabalipuram, Mahishasuramardini, Matangeshwara, Mrityunjayeshwara, Mukteshwara, Nandivarman II, Narasimhavarman I, pancha bootha, Pancharatha, Pandya, Rajasimha, Ravana Anugraha, Shore Temple, Somaskanda, sthala vruksham, tandava, The Body of God: An Emperor's Palace for Krishna in Eighth Century Kanchipuram, Thiru Parameswara Vinnagaram, tourism, travelogue, Vaigunda Perumal, Varadharaja, Varaha

I have always neglected visiting Mamallapuram and Kanchipuram even though I have been to Madras countless times. I suppose one takes things in one’s own backyard for granted, sometimes until it is too late. “Next weekend, next vacation…what’s the rush? It is here wonly, no?” Last weekend, I finally resolved this lacuna and am glad that I did. Both Mamallapuram and Kanchipuram are near Madras and there are plenty of good accommodations available at both the tourist towns. However, I preferred to operate out of Madras for personal as well as logistical reasons.

MadrasEveryone like to make fun of Madras because…well, it is Madras 🙂 The North mocks it because they do not know better and the South mocks it because it is jealous; I mock it out of frustration for having so much quality literature inaccessible to me via that undecipherable language of theirs. The fact is, however, and I would deny ever writing this, that it is not a bad place – it is on the coast, it is well connected, it has decent public transport, it is not criminally expensive, and it pulls off an interesting balance between traditional and hipster. That said, I was greeted by the stench of urine the moment I stepped off the bus at Koyambedu that warm Madras dawn!

MahabalipuramMy first stop was Mahabalipuram, as Mamallapuram is also called. The place is named after the famous Pallava king Narasimhavarman I, who defeated his arch-rival, the Chalukya king Pulakeshi II in 642. Mahabalipuram was a bustling seaport even two thousand years ago and served as the second capital of the Pallavas. Today, it is a small town 60 kms south of Madras and its temples and cave sculptures have been on the UNESCO World Heritage list since 1984. Connectivity to Mahabalipuram from Madras is not bad – several city buses as well as state transport buses ply the route, some of which are even air conditioned. We, however, chose to go by car as the buses take longer than we were willing to dedicate to the trip.

Naga, Nagini on Mahabalipuram bas reliefDespite being on the UNESCO World Heritage list, many people are dismissive about Mahabalipuram and its historical sites. This is unfortunate, for there is actually much of value to see. Admittedly, the town stands in the shadow of Kanchipuram but that is not a fair yardstick by which to judge Mahabalipuram or any other place. Naturally, we alighted at the famous bas-relief panel depicting the elephants going to drink water. However, the descent of Ganga and Arjuna’s penance to Lord Shiva for the Pasupata at Indrakeel Mountain is perhaps the key takeaway from this monument. The interpretation of this panel, as it turns out, is quite contentious – some think that the figure doing penance is Bhagiratha while others think it depicts Naga worship. What gives it away, in my mind, is the relief of a cat imitating the worship of the man, surrounded by rats. This is also a tale from the Mahabharata when Duryodhana mocks Arjuna’s worship as false and hypocritical. Several other sculptures on the panel illustrating little-known events in the great Indian epic also indicate that the subject is indeed Arjuna and not anyone else. Particularly interesting is the way the river Ganga has been shown on the panel – one would imagine that during the rainy season, water would follow the same tracks on the panel as that of the Ganga and collect at the bottom. This makes the panel feel dynamic rather than simply another rock sculpture.

VarahaRight by the panel is the Varaha cave. As in so many royal houses of South India, the lion is an important motif and can be seen incorporated into the base of the pillars by the entrance. The cave contains four panels – Bhuvaraha, Trivikrama, Durga, and Gajalakshmi. What makes this cave temple most interesting is that the Gajalakshmi relief shows the goddess being bathed by two elephants while four maidens stand by with flowers. Lakshmi’s hair is in jata bandha while her hands are in kataka mudra and both her feet are planted firmly on the ground instead of her usual padmasana or with only one foot on the ground. Compared to the fine work at Belur, Khajuraho, or Rani ki Vav, the sculptures here appear clumsy and it must be remembered that the stone used in these other sites is softer and significantly more amenable to sculpting. As a result, the Pallavas abandoned the idea of carving cave temples and went for standalone monolithic rock temples instead at Mahabalipuram.

Gajalakshmi, MahabalipuramThis cave also has, allegedly, carvings of the Pallava kings. If true, this is extremely rare indeed – nowhere that I have visited in Tamil Nadu do monarchs trumpet the glories of their dynasty on temple walls. These carvings can be found on either side of the Gajalakshmi panel and the inscriptions above indicate that the Pallava kings in question are Simhavishnu and Mahendra. These monarchs may have been father and son who started and finished the temple but where they fit exactly in the Pallava genealogy is beyond me.

MahishasuramardiniWithout doubt, the finest of the cave temples at Mamallapuram must be the Mahishasuramardini cave. The shrine in the cave is for Shiva, which is discernible, despite the missing lingam, from the Somaskanda on the back wall of the garbhagudi. On the left wall is a magnificent and large Vishnu reclining in the anantashayana pose. Half asleep, Vishnu is unaware that two demons, Madhu and Kaitabha, are about to attack him. The relief shows Adishesha hissing at the demons and scaring them away as Vishnu taps the snake to calm him down. Interestingly, Vishnu’s equipment – gada, shanka, chakra, and khadga – are all personified. This is also seen in the central Shiva shrine – one of the dwarapalaks has horns protruding from his conical helmet at an awkward angle but this depiction is meant to indicate Shiva’s trishul. However, by far the most magnificent of reliefs in the cave – and in my opinion, the entire Mahabalipuram – is the Mahishsuramardini on the right wall. Unlike the usual depictions of Durga stomping on the figure of a half-bull-half-man while thrusting a trishul into it, this relief shows Durga in the middle of a battle with the demon.

AnanthashayanaIt was here that I found my episode for this travelogue’s ode to the Indian tourist: we spotted one climb onto the figure of the reclining Vishnu and replicate his posture for a photograph. The tackiness aside, the tourist paid no heed to either the sacrilege of stepping and climbing onto a religious symbol or the historical value of the sculpture! Another blood boiling incident occurred at the Varaha cave: an Italian tourist was standing timidly by a sculpture for his companion to take a photograph. His local guide urged him to get closer to the statue and finally physically moved him to appear as if he was swinging on Varaha’s left arm as Bhudevi was held with the right. In case someone has the sense and respect not to endanger a historical artifact, natives are always at hand to encourage such vandalism!

Several of the monuments at Mahabalipuram have been damaged due to neglect and prolonged exposure to the elements. In addition, many of the structures were left incomplete which may give the impression of shoddy workmanship, erosion, or damage to the inattentive eye. However, even these incomplete structures are worth a quick dekho for the simple reason that they reveal how the finished caves were worked on.

There are a few stalls near the historical compound where one can avail of tender coconut water, sugarcane juice, ice cream, and other such drinks and snacks. However, if you want a decent restaurant, you will have to leave the area. There are a couple of decent places around and auto rickshaws should not be difficult to find either. Depending on how much time you have allocated to Mahabalipuram, you may choose to rehydrate and press on. We gave the place a day and I think we should have been more judicious with our time or scheduled a visit the next day as well. We skipped several points of interest such as the Trimurti cave, the Kotikal, Krishna, Koneri mantapas, and the new excavations such as the Mukunda Nayanar Temple. This was partly because of time but more because of mental fatigue – it is difficult to digest so much new and detailed information in a day on a topic entirely alien to you. India is new to me, and there is so much I learn on each of my trips.

After lunch, we went to the Olakkanneshwara temple. It is situated on a hill but there are steps up to it. From there, I caught my first glimpse of the Bay of Bengal…for that trip. As a lover of maritime activity, I measure time by the last time I had salt spray in my face. Given its height and unobstructed view of the sea, the temple could have easily served as a lighthouse back in the day.

Pancha ratha elephantAnother famous set of monoliths at Mamallapuram is the Panch Pandav Ratha. This has nothing to do with the Pandavas, obviously, but have been associated with them since they are five in number. The rathas have been carved from top to bottom as is evident from the elaborate gopuram but incomplete bases. The Draupadi ratha looks like a small hut and is the least ornate, with a smooth and sloped, curved roof; the Dharmaraja ratha is perhaps the most impressive, with its tritala vimana; the Bhima ratha is rectangular, indicating a potential plan to depict a reclining Vishnu inside the shrine. Around the rathas are also two elephants. The rathas are in different stages of completion – while some are almost complete, others appear to only have the outer work done. Together, the five rathas appear to be part of a framework of a larger temple. They stand alone, perhaps inspired by Buddhist architecture, but slope from the shortest to tallest ratha.

Shore TempleThere is no leaving Mahabalipuram without visiting the Shore Temple, which is actually two shrines to Shiva – Kshatryasimheshwaram and Rajasimheshwaram. Built by the Pallava king Rajasimha, they are the newest of the Mahabalipuram stone works at about 1,300 years old. The shrines are surrounded by a wall that is topped with Nandis. Despite the hard rock, the temple appears severely eroded. There is an old myth about the first foreigners who sailed to Mamallapuram seeing seven temples on the shore. The Seven Pagodas, as they were thought to be, were assumed to signify the presence of Chinese civilisation in the area. Of course, a vimaana looks nothing like an East Asian slightly upturned pent roof but try telling that to those early visitors!

On December 26, 2004, a massive tsunami hit the Coromandel coast. Mahabalipuram was also affected. The horrific loss of life in the region and the great damage to property, however, had a silver lining: several structures off the coast of Mahabalipuram were revealed as the force of the tsunami waters washed away the detritus that had gathered over them. Sonar exploration since has revealed at least a couple of temples and caves less than 500 metres from the shore. One exciting discovery was of a 2,000-year-old shrine belonging to the Sangam period. These discoveries have also impelled excavations on land in the vicinity of Mahabalipuram with several interesting results already.

On Sunday, we went to Kanchi. “The best among cities” is how the great poet Kalidasa described Kanchipuram and it is difficult to disagree with him. Wrote the mahakavi of the city, pushpeshu jati, purusheshu Vishnu, narishu Rambha, nagarishu Kanchi – like the parijat among flowers, Vishnu among men, and Rambha among women is Kanchi among cities. A medium-sized town today on the banks of the Vegavathi river some 70 kms west-southwest of Madras, Kachipedu, as it was once called, still attracts pilgrims, tourists, and scholars in droves. Like Mahabalipuram, Kanchipuram is a very old town with the first mention of its name during the Maurya period some 2,300 years ago. The town was part of a busy network of cultural and economic activity with Cambodia, Sumatra, Java, Champa, Thailand, and China; its wealth attracted scholars, priests of various traditions, and merchants from the entire Southeast Asian region.

There are dozens of temples in town and even the absolute must-see ones will easily take a serious tourist a couple of days. We had but one day; this does not mean that we skipped any of the important temples but just that we spent less time in all of them. There was just too much to consider in each temple that multiple trips were a foregone conclusion; for those living further away – foreigners or northerners, I would recommend at least three days for a leisurely visit to the key destinations of Kanchipuram. And I cannot stress this enough – do your homework before coming!

Vaikunta Perumal Temple, NarasimhaOur first stop was the Vaikunta Perumal Temple, one of the 108 divya desams mentioned in the Divya Prabhanda by the azvarkal, revered Tamil poet-saints of the 6th to 10th centuries. These saints are considered to have been very influential in several aspects of Tamil culture, from language to religion. Believed to have been built by Nandivarman II in the early 8th century, Vaikunta Perumal Temple has served as an inspiration to temples all over the state. According to the late Dennis Hudson, the elite of Kanchi were highly literate and the Vaikunta Perumal Temple was meant not to teach my means of depiction but to remind devotees of what they already knew, to transform the consciousness and to awaken them. The temple has also had later additions from Chola and Vijayanagara kings as is evident from the several inscriptions around the building.

I was surprised to find that Vaikunta Perumal Temple shares a water tank with the Nawab Sathathullah Khan Mosque next door. This is because Kanchipuram, like so many Indian temple towns, also fell to Islamic forces and was looted and desecrated. The first Muslim ruler of the town was the Bahamani sultan Muhammad II who captured the town in 1481 and the last to rule were the nawabs of Arcot. The mosque contains within it a shivalingam as it stands atop a Hindu temple.

Vaikunta Perumal, Pallava historyThe temple has three shrines to Vishnu; in the first, on the ground floor, he is seated; on the second floor, open only on ekadashi, he is reclining; and on the third floor, which devotees have no access to, he is standing. There are, of course, the usual depictions of the dashavatara and various other myths but there are also a few panels some scholars believe depict the history of the Pallava dynasty. If this is true, it is revolutionary indeed and Vaikunta Perumal Temple will join a handful of temples where there is any acknowledgement of the kings who built them. There are also plenty of inscriptions for those who can read the Pallava grantha.

Vaikunta Perumal, inscriptionsLike any state funding from any period or region in the world, there was a lot of politics and symbolism involved in the construction of the Vaikuntha Perumal Temple. For example, it has been suggested that this house of Vishnu was built in competition with the older Kailasanatha Temple built by Nandivarman II’s ancestor, Rajasimha. Not just cosmology and theology but also lineage played an important part in the saga – that of pure and impure (offspring with non-Pallava women) Pallava blood. The cross-pollination between one line of Pallavas in Cambodia and the main one in Kanchipuram has raised several questions about the influence of the Indian temples of the Coromandel coast on Angkor Wat. For example, both have three levels of the garbhagudi and both have exclusively Bhagavata iconography on the gopuram. If anyone is interested in reading more on this, Hudson’s The Body of God: An Emperor’s Palace for Krishna in Eighth Century Kanchipuram is a lovely read.

KailasanathaAfter spending more time than we had planned to at Thiru Parameswara Vinnagaram, we moved on to Kailasanatha Temple. Built in the late 7th century, it is the oldest temple in Kanchipuram. Construction of the temple was interrupted when the Chalukyas captured Kanchipuram but continued as soon as it was retaken; unlike other invading armies, the Chalukyas had not destroyed the construction site. Unlike most of the temples at Mahabalipuram, Kailasanatha is one of the oldest stone temples not carved out of rock that is still standing in India.

Kailasanatha, SomaskandaThe Pallavas clearly had a thing for Somaskanda, for there are dozens of depictions of him all over the temple. Occasionally, you might spot him sitting on his peacock but by and large, he his happily settled on his mother’s lap. Another form of Shiva the Pallavas seem to have loved is Dakshinamurthy, of whom there are also several depictions. The temple has 58 shrines in it and Nandi sits on a pedestal far from the entrance across a lawn. However, it is clear that the Cholas and Vijayanagara kings added to this temple as well; the original temple consisted only of the sanctum sanctorum and a detached sabha mantapa. Now, there are umpteen shrines surrounding the temple. Some of these shrines even have some of the original paint intact. This gives an idea of what the original temple must have been like – a white main temple surrounded by colourful shrines.

Kailasanatha insideThe main shrine has a 16-sided black granite shivalingam, with the walls carrying depictions of Umamaheshwara and Shiva performing the tandava. One interesting statue I noticed was of Shiva dancing the ananda tandava but instead of standing on one leg bent at the knee, he seemed to be in some sort of quasi-virabadhrasana! Another posture Shiva can be found in is the urdhva tandava; clearly, the Pallavas had a diverse compendium of Shiva postures for their artwork.

Kailasanatha, restorationUsually in my travels, I have little more than scorn for the work of the Archaeological Survey of India. Their maintenance has been found wanting at several places and their restoration work a replay of an Islamic invasion! Yet I must admit that at Kailasanatha temple, they have done some marvelous work in reversing the damage done to the temple by invaders and by nature. Something else about the ASI I have noted is that every time I have met one of their officials on site, they have been most knowledgeable and helpful. At Kanchipuram, we met one such official who, pleased with our enthusiasm, offered to take us around the city on a tour of temples that are generally closed to the public.

Varadharaja Perumal, Vijayanagara mantapaNext, we swung by Varadharaja Perumal Temple. It was a bit late in the morning but we hoped we could make it before the temple closed for lunch. No such luck. However, we could persuade one of the administrative officials to allow us into a mantapa built by the Vijayanagara kings. The hall supposedly has a hundred pillars and is a masterpiece of Vijayanagara sculpture. The primary subjects of the carvings on the pillars are episodes from the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. There is a large stage upon a pedestal, over which is erected the Lord’s jhula on festive occasions. It was only then that I noticed the sartorial choice of the Vijayanagara kings: heavily influenced by the Portuguese and Muslims. Phillip Wagoner argues that the similarities did not stop just there. Even the title many Vijayanagara kings used – Hindurayasuratrana – appears to be a Hindu equivalent of the Muslim Sultan and was probably what Vijayanagara’s Muslim neighbours called its kings. Of course, to understand the cleavage between Islamic religion and Islamicate culture we must keep in mind Marshal Hodgson’s differentiation of the two in his magisterial The Venture of Islam. It is equally important to understand that despite these Islamic influences, Vijayanagara remained a Hindu kingdom. One reason is that Islamic influence did not seep into the state’s image of itself. Vijayanagara made it a point to revive classical Hinduism and its iconography clearly reveals this. Whatever accoutrements the nobility and rich merchants may have picked up from their northern neighbours was merely a passing fad and did not, as far as I can tell, create a hybrid culture as was the case north of the Vindhyas.

This mantapa stands in stark contrast to the Maratha contribution to Hindu architecture. While the former is ornate and exquisite, the latter stands simple and bland. I am not trying to take away from the work of Maratha rulers like Ahilya Holkar who rebuilt countless Hindu temples all over India but the renovations and repairs do seem like the work a soldier engineer might do rather than a master craftsman patronised by the king. The additions of the Chola and Vijayanagara monarchs vied with each other and tried to surpass the original work but Maratha additions were usually stolid.

We broke for lunch and headed over to Saravana Bhavan much against my wishes. Actually, I was quite surprised and pleased with the restaurant. Imagine my surprise when I realised that I had probably never eaten at a real Saravana Bhavan in my life! Apparently there are many copycat outlets that even imitate the logo of the Tamil restaurant chain and they are not of the same calibre. My experience at the fake restaurants has been that it was dirty, crowded, hot, and specialised in serving mushy rice with dishwater – rasam. The actual place is not a bad option for food while touring.

Varadharaja Perumal, RajagopuramSince we had missed darshan earlier, we returned to Varadharaja Perumal Temple. It is an enormous place, covering some 23 acres and possessing 32 shrines and scores of pillared halls. At the entrance, you are greeted with a 130-foot tall rajagopuram. This sort of monumental architecture is seen most commonly in the Chola era and is a dead giveaway of the temple’s origins – it was built in 1053 by Rajendra Chola II but expanded greatly by Kulothunga Chola I and Vikrama Chola a couple of decades later. Like Vaikuntha Perumal, it is also one of the 108 divya desams. In 1688, the deity was moved out of the temple in fear of an impending Muslim invasion but was returned after the threat had subsided. Such tales are quite common in the towns and villages of India but this was perhaps the largest temple in the country to experience such an event. I was informed that, interestingly, Robert Clive of the British East India Company presented the deity at Varadharaja Perumal with a valuable necklace. It is worn only on special occasions and is now known as Clive Maharkandi.

One must be alert as to where one is heading at this temple. With so many shrines, it is easy to stand in line at a wrong one as did happen to us! Anyway, we saw the utsava murthi before moving upstairs to the main shrine. There is something very pleasing about a temple with a beautiful idol, I tell you, and Varadharaja Perumal Temple has one of the most beautiful idols I have seen in a garbhagriha. Next we headed to the Lakshmi shrine but got confused and went to a shrine of two lizards first. One is gold and the other is silver and it is said that touching them will wash away your sins. I must say it is quite amusing to see indulgences in Hinduism…the Pope would be proud 🙂

Matangeshwara, dilapadatedWe linked up with our new ASI friend next and he took us to the Matangeshwara, Mukteshwara, Mrityunjayeshwara, and Airavateshwara temples. Some of these, such as the Mukteshwara Temple, is closed to the public while others were closed when we were there. The Matangeshwara Temple was badly eroded. I found this odd, given the hard rock that had been used. However, I also noticed that some temples were made of soapstone yet stood on a granite base. It appeared as if puja was done at the temple but I doubt more than a hundred people visited that temple each day. The inner walls of the temple had a Nataraja and a Gajasurasamhara that were yet in fairly decent shape though the outer walls might as well have been sandblasted. The Ravana Anugraha and the Descent of Ganga are also depicted but are not in good shape.

MukteshwaraThe Mukteshwara Temple held a real surprise. It is a small and unassuming standalone temple, resembling a Buddhist chaitya more than the other magnificent shrines in Kanchipuram. Like Matangeshwara, this temple too had weathered badly. Our ASI guide opened the garbhagriha for us as well and there stood a nice shivalingam. Behind it was the typical Somaskanda portrait but it was hard to make out any details. It did not look damaged and so I stepped into the garbagudi and took a photograph, of course, taking care to avoid the deity. The result astounded us: the flash revealed what the naked eye could not see, that there were remnants of the original paint still on the Somaskanda! As per Tamil tradition, the goddess – Parvati in this case, was painted green. What made it harder for us to discern the colours was that during the Raj, the British had whitewashed the whole temple in an attempt to restore the temple. That may have been the best technology of the times but it was no good for the sculptures.

Mukteshwara, SomaskandaThe original colours are important because some entities have taken it upon themselves to revive old temples as part of their philanthropy or goodness tax, also known as corporate social responsibility. Re-colouring the temple murals and sculptures has, so far, been a disaster of epic proportions; the newer paints are gaudy and a sacrilege at best. We asked the ASI official about such ham-handedness and he informed us that such things are not allowed. We did have to chuckle and I pulled out my collection of photographs detailing ASI’s crimes against history: gratuitous use of cement, unsightly support structures, and atrocious reconstruction to name a few. Our guide also seemed shocked; he informed us that cement is not allowed in superficial restoration work and neither are modern paints. At Kailasanatha, the ASI has taken the pains to create the original paint and construction material for their conservation work. It was indeed odd to see the widely varying practices of the ASI and I am not sure why that is so.

It was the next two temples that introduced a new thought in my mind. The Mrityunjayeshwara and Airavateshwara temples are in such a bad state of repair that it makes little sense for the ASI to maintain them. The latter is actually run by a private concern as the ASI lost control over it in some land dispute in the courts. Ideally, these structures ought to be carted off to a museum and reassembled there rather than be left intact to absorb gardening and security funds. I had really never thought of Indian historical artifacts in such a manner but two things factor into my thinking – the extremely dilapidated state of some structures and their ubiquitous presence. It is simply impossible to retain every temple, tower, shrine, park, palace, and fort and a practical solution is to maintain the important ones while removing others to museums or dismantling them.

My last stop was the Ekambareshwara Temple – there is no way one can miss this temple on a visit to Kanchipuram. It is the largest temple in town, even larger than the Varadharaja Perumal Temple if you can believe it! Ekambareshwar is one of the pancha bootha sthalam – the five Shiva temples wherein the lingam is made of one of the five elements, air, earth, fire, sky, and water. Here, the lingam is made of earth. Four of these five temples are in Tamil Nadu and one is in Srikalahasti in what is today Andhra Pradesh. Spread over 25 acres, there are dozens of shrines in the temple complex, as well as kalyanis and mantapas. However, not one of the shrines is for Parvati – instead, Shiva’s consort resides in the Kamakshi Amman Kovil next door. It was also quite amusing to see a Divya Desam shrine to Vishnu inside a Shiva temple, that too on the right so that there is no way of avoiding a parikrama around Shiva! Sneaky 🙂

Unfortunately, we could not visit the thousand-pillared Aayiram Kaal Mandapam that has the 1,008 shivalingams because it was getting close to dusk by this time and we had to drive back to Madras on a very accident-prone stretch of highway. We also did not see the sthala vruksham, a mango tree alleged to be 3,500 years old. No one knows when a shrine first appeared on the spot but state funds went into giving it the present form since the early 7th century. A tree factoid relevant to this is that the oldest tree in India is claimed to be a 5,000-year-old banyan tree in Jyotisar, Haryana. Locals believe that Krishna delivered the Bhagavad Gita to Arjuna under this tree.

Kailasanatha, Dakshina murthy Kailasanatha 1 Kailasanatha, Shiva doing tandav

At Ekambareshwara as well as at Varadharaja Perumal, I felt like I had entered a small township. One reads of the several functions temples used to have back in the day and these temples make it very easy to imagine that world when temples were centres of education, scholarship, horology, counseling, festivals, trade, philanthropy, gossip, and of course, worship. Some might not consider me a particularly religious person but it is in these “township temples,” centuries old and still living, that fills me with an intense sense of contentment. It is a pleasure to see something of beauty and the shacks that pass for temples nowadays are little more than congregation points for transactional bhakti. Temples like some of the ones in Kanchipuram or Srirangam or Thanjavur deliver a dose of spirituality, history, and culture all in one.

If I have persuaded you through my experiences to visit Kanchipuram and its environs, do keep in mind that a proper tour of Kanchipuram and Mahabalipuram would take three intense days of sightseeing. I did not plan my trip thus because I am presently close enough to go next weekend if I so desired. There is, of course, the intellectual fatigue that sets in for newbies like me – if South India is new to you, I strongly recommend doing your homework thoroughly and breaking up the sightseeing into two or three trips at least.

Let us be very clear – Madras has three seasons, hot, hotter, and hottest. Even in early February, the sun was sharp and the days were warm. The temperature gave a little in the evening but it was still short of cool. Beware walking on the stone floors of the temples for the ground beneath your feet can get quite hot! Still, the sane tourist season for Madras would be from November to February. There is only so much pleasant weather one can expect in the tropics.

I came away from this trip with a better impression of Madras – I had not thought that possible! – and several questions about the influence of the Pandya and Chola polities on southeast Asia. It also underscored the tourist bonanza Tamil Nadu is sitting on, exhibiting nothing but firm, masterly inactivity. There are tourists from home and abroad even now, no doubt, but it is nowhere near its peak potential. Despite being World Heritage sites, there is little promotion of Kanchipuram or Mahabalipuram in India or abroad the way Turkey or Malaysia does. As many scholars of the region have conceded, this is where one finds the true history of India. The North was repeatedly invaded, conquered, and influenced by foreign cultures but the South has retained the old – it has evolved, definitely, but with much less influence from non-Indic sources.

Being so close to Madras, the infrastructure – hotels, food, guides, transport – was decent. Unlike many places in India, visiting Kanchipuram is not an ordeal. The city is considered to be a mokshapuri; I don’t know about moksha, but I certainly got ananda upon going there! And like the best of trips, there is something for the eyes, something for the mind, and something for next time 🙂


This post appeared on Swarajya on February 22, 2015.

Share this:

  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Pocket (Opens in new window)
  • Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)
  • Click to print (Opens in new window)
  • More
  • Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window)

Like this:

Like Loading...

Chirps

  • RT @hodayakh: רחמנות על חמאס. שוב הוא נאלץ לנסות לרצוח אותנו בעל כורחו https://t.co/U0ZCgXWc7v 4 hours ago
  • RT @Tico_Romao: #OTD Masaki Kobayashi's Samurai Rebellion (1967) had its release in Japan. A jidaigeki film set in the Edo period in which… 4 hours ago
  • Canada Supreme Court finds unconstitutional consecutive parole ineligibility periods of 25 years in cases involving… twitter.com/i/web/status/1… 4 hours ago
  • How to be healthy in a dopamine-seeking culture: bit.ly/3lRHz10 | Der Wille, keinen Spaß zu haben 😄 4 hours ago
  • Artificial intelligence is breaking patent law: go.nature.com/38pOlaZ | For starters, what is considered non-obvious to a machine? 5 hours ago
Follow @orsoraggiante

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 225 other followers

Follow through RSS

  • RSS - Posts

Categories

Archives

Recent Posts

  • The Mysterious Case of India’s Jews
  • Polarised Electorates
  • The Election Season
  • Does Narendra Modi Have A Foreign Policy?
  • India and the Bomb
  • Nationalism Restored
  • Jews and Israel, Nation and State
  • The Asian in Europe
  • Modern Political Shibboleths
  • The Death of Civilisation
  • Hope on the Korean Peninsula
  • Diminishing the Heathens
  • The Writing on the Minority Wall
  • Mischief in Gaza
  • Politics of Spite
  • Thoughts on Nationalism
  • Never Again (As Long As It Is Convenient)
  • Earning the Dragon’s Respect
  • Creating an Indian Lake
  • Does India Have An Israel Policy?
  • Reclaiming David’s Kingdom
  • Not a Mahatma, Just Mohandas
  • How To Read
  • India’s Jerusalem Misstep
  • A Rebirth of American Power

Management

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com
Considerate la vostra semenza: fatti non foste a viver come bruti, ma per seguir virtute e canoscenza.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

  • Follow Following
    • Chaturanga
    • Join 225 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Chaturanga
    • Customise
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...
 

    loading Cancel
    Post was not sent - check your email addresses!
    Email check failed, please try again
    Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.
    %d bloggers like this: