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Chaturanga

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Chaturanga

Tag Archives: UNESCO

Wandering Around Tamil Country

01 Mon Feb 2016

Posted by Jaideep A. Prabhu in Society, Travelogue

≈ Comments Off on Wandering Around Tamil Country

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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

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A Gujarati Soujourn

24 Sat Jan 2015

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

≈ Comments Off on A Gujarati Soujourn

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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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