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Chaturanga

~ statecraft, strategy, society, and Σοφíα

Chaturanga

Tag Archives: World Heritage

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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Bringing Stone To Life

18 Mon Aug 2014

Posted by Jaideep A. Prabhu in Society, Travelogue

≈ Comments Off on Bringing Stone To Life

Tags

Ajanta, Alamgir, Andhaka, Aurangabad, Aurangzeb, Bibi ka Maqbara, bodhisattva, Brahma, Buddha, Buddhism, Charanandri, Daulatabad, dharmachakra pravartana mudra, Elapura, Ellora, Griheshwar Temple, Hinduism, India, Jainism, Jataka Tales, jyotirlingam, Kailasa, Kalachuri, Lakulisa, Mahabharata, Mahavira, Mahishasuramardini, Nataraja, Padmapani, pralambapadasana, purana, Ramayana, Rashtrakuta, Rishabha, Shiva, Shivapurana, Sravasti, tirthankara, travelogue, Vajrapani, Verul, Vishnu, Vishnupurana, World Heritage

Even in a land pockmarked with centuries-old temples and monuments, the cave paintings and sculptures at Ajanta and Ellora stand out as among India’s more renowned historical treasures – with good reason, as I found out this weekend. The two cave complexes are easily among the highest achievements of human engineering and artistry in the world, the only comparable examples, in my opinion, being Angkor Wat in Cambodia, the Longmen Grottoes in China, and the temples at Abu Simbel and Karnak in Upper Egypt.

Although Aurangabad does have an airport, it is a tiny one and not as well-connected in terms of cities or frequency of flights. However, you should certainly check it out in case what is available fits your schedule. We chose to start from Pune, the epicentre of Marathi culture and 235 kilometres to the southwest of Aurangabad. Although the two cities are connected fairly well by bus and train, we preferred the flexibility of a rented car. In India, most car rentals provide a driver with the car and one does not have to be worried about knowing the roads though that comes at the cost of losing one seat. In that sense, I suppose it is more of an extended taxi service than a car rental. Unfortunately, our driver was not familiar with Aurangabad but since we hardly deviated from the state highways, this did not cause much trouble. Be sure to check if your driver knows your destination well when you rent a car.

Our first destination was Ellora, or Elapura as it was once known. Thirty kilometres from Aurangabad, the caves open to the public at 06 00 and close at 18 00; if you have the stamina to make full use of these hours, Ellora would take two days to finish. For ordinary mortals, three days makes for better planning. This is assuming that you, the discerning tourist, would spend time getting an overall feel of the place, identify each of the sculptures, dwell on the construction techniques, and marvel at the artistic genius. Many plebeians, however, are simply interested in taking some selfies for Facebook or Twitter and make a nuisance of themselves at the site.

The Ellora cave complex has 34 caves, 17 Hindu, 12 Buddhist, and 5 Jain. Unfortunately, these are numbered consecutively rather than chronologically – Caves I – XII are Buddhist and in the south, Caves XIII – XXIX are Hindu and in the middle, and Caves XXX – XXXIV are Jain and in the north. If you are a stickler for chronology – it makes seeing the transitions and developments easier – as I am, you can expect Ellora to include a bit of a walk.

The latest historical research indicates that the earliest construction was of a few Hindu caves, followed by the Buddhist caves, a second phase of Hindu cave construction, and finally the Jain caves. These phases lasted from the early fifth century to the late tenth century and obviously, some of these phases overlapped with each other. The earliest caves were carved during the rule of the earliest Kalachuri kings and the later caves – Hindu, Buddhist, and Jain – were built during the Rashtrakuta Empire.

It is not necessary to visit all the caves – some are incomplete and where stonemasons and sculptors perfected their techniques before applying them to the main sites. Nonetheless, these caves may give you an idea about the construction techniques of the cave builders and should not be totally ignored.

Cave XVI from the edgesThe piece de resistance at Ellora is undoubtedly the imposing Kailasa Temple one sees immediately upon entering the premises. Constructed in the mid-eighth century by Krishna I, the megalith rises to over 100 feet and has a footprint of about 42,500 square feet. At these dimensions, it is the largest cave structure in India and probably the world. Technically Cave XVI, the Kailasa Temple is built in the Pallava style with tapering viharas and cloisters flanking the temple on three sides. It is estimated that some 400,000 tonnes of rock were excavated to create it. Originally, the temple was painted completely white so as to resemble Lord Shiva’s abode in the Himalayas. The temple itself has two floors and is surrounded by a three-storey gallery on three sides. The main prayer hall has a large and majestic lingam and the inseparable Nandi a few metres away while the walls are decorated with sculptures depicting events from the puranas and epics.

KailasaDensely packed with sculptures from Hindu cosmology, Kailasa alone requires the better part of a day to decipher and appreciate. The view of the temple from the front is blocked by a fortress wall but you can climb around the sides and get a view of the entire complex from the top and behind. What makes Cave XVI stand out as one of the greatest achievements of not just Hindu iconography but monument-building worldwide is that the entire structure was carved out of a single piece of rock – engineers, stonemasons, master craftsmen, and others would have had to have calculated how the temple would take shape precisely as they worked on it starting from the top and proceeding to the bottom. Given the necessity for structurally sound rock for the temple, workers could not simply hammer away the tonnes of rocks or wedge indiscriminately for fear of larger-than-desired cracks developing. The whole project had to be meticulously planned and carefully excavated, and that is why I rank this monument so highly.

MahishasuramardiniCave XIV is called Ravan ka Khai for reasons beyond me. It has a pillared hall and the walls are decorated with life-size sculptures of a dancing Shiva, Varahavtara, Shiva and Parvati playing chausar, Gajalakshmi, the saptamatrikas, Andhakasuravadha, and others. In fact, it looks as if one wall is dedicated to the Shivapurana and the other to the Vishnupurana. What I found most riveting, however, was the sculpture of Mahishasuramardini on the right as soon as you enter. Interestingly, though the common depiction of Mahishasuramardini shows Durga killing a buffalo, a couple of carvings at Cave XVI showed Mahishasura as a man wearing a horned helmet.

Cave XV is up a steep flight of stairs and another marvellous cave. It is a two-storeyed pillared hall with a Nandi mandapam in the courtyard. The Nandi statue has been displaced from the mandapam, I don’t know why, and can be seen on the first floor of the cave. What makes this cave even more interesting is that it is one of the few caves that are supposed to have inscriptions in them – the Rashtrakuta king Dantidurga is supposed to have etched out his genealogy and conquests in the stone somewhere near the Nandi mandapam. Unfortunately, we were ill-prepared and did not have flashlights and what feeble light our mobile phones gave off was not enough to spot it. The cave is called the Dasavatara cave but precious few of Lord Vishnu’s avatars are depicted in it; in fact, Cave XV is a Shiva shrine and is adorned with sculptures like the Markandeya anugraha murti, Gangadhara, Lingodhbhava Shiva and Tripurantaka.

Again, the multiple floors and courtyards of Cave XV make it easy to forget that this cave, like all others at Ellora, were carved out of the Charanandri Hills. The sculptures’ magnificence aside, that the entire complex was carved in situ makes it even more remarkable.

Dumarlena - Ravana shaking KailasaCave XXIX, also known as Dumarlena, bears a striking similarity to the Elephanta caves in Bombay. There is a large lingam in a centrally located shrine with four doorways, each guarded by two towering dwarapalaks. The walls of the spacious cave have six large panels with various depictions of Lord Shiva such as the sundarakalyanam, Nataraja, Lakulisa, Shiva and Parvati playing a game, Ravana trying to lift Kailasa, and the killing of Andhaka.

As far as I know, there is no documentary or inscriptional evidence that details the funding of the construction of Ajanta or Ellora. One can only surmise that something of this magnitude would have required royal patronage and perhaps the support of rich local merchants. While Ajanta was lost for a long time, Ellora was close to important trade routes and did not suffer the same fate. The complex continued to receive visitors over the centuries and some fo the caves were indeed used for the purpose for which they seem to have been created – prayer.

Cave 10, ElloraTo sample the next day’s pleasures, we ended the day with a visit to the Buddhist Cave X. In retrospect, I can say that it is, without doubt, the most stunning Buddhist cave at Elapura. The colonnaded chamber with its ribbed ceiling is reminiscent of pre-Carolingian churches (no transept) and has two floors. In the place of the altar is a stupa and before it sits Buddha on what can only be imagined as a throne. Buddha sits in the pralambapadasana, making what is probably a vyakhyana mudra, believed to be what is referred to in the base tongue as the teaching mudra. On the right side of the cave’s porch, there is a mini-shrine to Mahamayuri, one of the pancharakshas in Buddhism, who is seated on her peacock vahana and holding the iconic peacock feather. This simplicity is in contrast to later depictions, especially in Tibetan Buddhism, that show Mahamayuri with multiple arms laden with various symbols such as the lotus. Some of the pillars that ran down the sides of the cave all had regular holes at the same height, presumably to bear torches at night.

We simply had to sit there and take in the ambience of the place, imagining the cave in its heyday. The torches, the darker nights, the smell of oil, the monks, the chanting…it was quite enough to give some of us goose bumps. Although camphor is offered to the Buddha in Japan and Sri Lanka, I am not sure if that custom was prevalent in India twelve centuries ago.

The next day, before reaching Ellora, we stopped by the Grishneshwar Temple at Verul. I don’t know much about the temple itself except that it was renovated in the late 18th century by the Malwa queen Ahilyabai Holkar or that it has a fairly high tapering shikhara of stone in various shades of red. Grishneshwar is the last of the twelve jyotirlingas and very close to Devagiri, now known as Daulatabad, barely a kilometre or so away from Ellora. There is nothing to differentiate a jyotirlingam from any other lingam visibly; it is believed, however, that those who have achieved higher states of consciousness can see the jyotirlingam as a beam of bright light penetrating the earth and stretching upwards towards the sky.

According to Hindu mythology, Brahma and Vishnu, two of the Trinity, get into a debate about who has a better knowledge of Shiva. To test them, Shiva appeared as an endless pillar of light and asked Brahma and Vishnu to go up and down respectively until the end of the pillar. After a while, Brahma came back and lied that he had seen the top while Vishnu confessed that he could not find the bottom. Shiva was enraged with Brahma for lying and cursed him that there would be no temples to him while Vishnu would be worshipped for eternity.

As many temples in India, the approach to the temple was dirty and the temple itself not clean. Even early in the morning, there was a fairly large crowd waiting for darshan. At Grishneshwar, devotees can actually touch the lingam and offer flowers, bael patra (aegle marmelos), or do a milk abhishekam themselves. As we were standing in line waiting to be given access to the garbhagudi (sanctum sanctorum), I spotted vendors I had just passed at the entrance separating the flowers from the bael patra from a pile of discarded offerings. I suspect they recycle the flora by selling it to unsuspecting pilgrims who arrive a little later. My experience was further marred by the priest asking for dakshina even before we had started our prayers. For all the agitation Hindu groups in India do about political rights, I wish a little effort were also spent in keeping these supposedly sacred places spotless.

After our temple visit, we hit the Buddhist caves. Of the twelve Buddhist caves at Ellora, only four are significant. This is not to say that others should not be visited but only that anyone pressed to finish Ellora within two days might have to prioritise which caves they wish to spend their time in.

Cave II has over 20 sculptures of the Buddha, a few unfinished and coarse, in pralambapadasana and a couple in padmasana atop a lotus. Most of the Buddhas are flanked by bodhisattvas and are making what appears to be a dharmachakra pravartana mudra though I may be wrong on this. However, many scholars argue that this mudra is the same as the vyakhyana mudra. A little variety is available in the form on a Maitreya Buddha on the right side of the entrance to the cave and a panel depicting the miracles at Sravasti on the left upon entry. There is also a depiction of Tara, the Saraswati of Mahayana Buddhism, near the Sravasti miracles panel and Jambhala, the bodhisattva of material wealth, sits at the left end of the porch. I am told that both Jambhala and Tara come colour-coded to symbolise various virtues but my knowledge of Buddhism is not up to par to remember all those details.

Ellora, Cave 5Another Buddhist cave of interest is Cave V. It is designed as a prayer hall seen in any Buddhist monastery, with low stone benches running down its entire length in the centre and a Buddha statue at what is presumably the altar. It is about 35 metres in depth and and lined with small cells, presumably for monks to rest between chanting, prayer, and study. At the door stand the bodhisattvas Padmapani and Vajrapani.

The last Buddhist cave we visited was Cave XII. It is a massive construction, three storeys high and built like a miniature fort with a courtyard and two keep-like structures in the right and left corners that used to be connected to the main complex. The entire cave is arranged in the form of three mandalas, and someone with significantly greater knowledge of Buddhism will have to explain to me the full significance of the cave. At the basic visual level, I can account for a series of deities  like Manjushri, Raktalokeshwara, Sthirachakra, Tara, Kunda, and a couple of others at the back of the cave on the first floor. In the sanctum sanctorum sit Buddha making the bhumsparsa mudra with several bodhisattvas around him; do enter the chamber or you will miss the several sculptures surrounding the Buddha as he preaches.

The second floor has a couple of pillars with inscriptions on them; in an inscription-starved site, even sighting one inscription was elating even if I could not read much of it! The level is also similar with Tara, Kunda, bodhisattvas in the main chamber, Padmapani and Vajrapani as the dwarpalaks, and in the main shrine, again, Buddha in the bhumisparsa mudra surrounded by bodhisattvas. On this floor, he is also joined by Tara and Jambhala in the shrine. Interestingly, Padmapani seems to be holding a thunderbolt and one of the bodhisattvas an upraised sword; this is quite a contrast with the common (mis)perception of Buddhism as a peaceful and ascetic religion. In reality, there are several sects and each interpret the teachings of the Buddha in different ways; hence the weapons, the presence of several deities, and a heavy dose of tantra can be seen at Ellora.

Seven buddhas, Cave XII, ElloraThe third floor is, in my opinion, the most majestic. There are five low stone benches running across the enormous hall, interspersed by pillars. Like Cave V, this was probably a place for meditation, prayer, chanting, and study. There are five buddhas along the right wall and four along the left either in padmasana or pralambapadasana; at the front of the hall, there are 14 of the 27 buddhas prior to Siddhartha Gautama. As our guidebook informed us, they are Vipasi, Sikhi, Vishvabhu, Krachakunda, Kanakmuni, Kashyapa, Sakya Simha, Vairochanda, Akshobhya, Ratna Sambhava, Amitabha, Amogha Siddhi, Vajrasattva, and Vajra Raja from left to right. The 14 buddhas sitting in meditation inject a serenity in the chamber that I did not feel on the other two floors. We decided to take a little break right in that hall and enjoy the feel of the cave a little longer.

The shrine has an antechamber on this floor and there are six female figures along its walls – Janguli, Mahamyuri, Pandra, Bhrikuti, Tara, and Usanisavijaya. There are also six female figures facing out, three on each side of the door, and the dwarpalaks Padmapani and Vajrapani. As for the female figures, I am a bit confused – some say they are all bodhisattvas while others say there are different manifestations of Tara. Either way, the Buddhist pantheon, I realised, is fuller than I had thought.

In the innermost chamber, Buddha sits with a bhumisparsa mudra and is surrounded by Maitreya, Sthirachakra, Manjushri, Tara, Jambhala, and other bodhisattvas.

We broke for lunch before returning to finish off the Jain caves. Now I am sure none of my companions will agree with me on this but there are absolutely no civilised places to eat in the immediate vicinity of Ellora. There is one decent-looking restaurant whose food is of middling palatability and service is atrociously slow. The rest are basically shacks fashioned out of corrugated metal sheets. There is one other sturdier place, Vrindavan, if you like Jain Gujarati food – one of us asked for an onion unknowingly and got a look as if we had asked to sacrifice the waiter’s first-born to Melqart! Personally, I plan to carry a small tucker bag of goodies on my next visit.

While we are on the topic of food, another thing I noticed is how difficult it is nowadays to find misal pav in Aurangabad; I am told that Bombay is no different either. When we went looking for some good Maharashtrian snacks, on the first evening, we were told it is a breakfast food. The next morning, however, misal pav and its friends – pav bhaji, sev batata puri, bhel puri, usal pav – was nowhere to be seen either. In fact, it was easier to locate a quasi Udupi restaurant for some idli vada and upma. This is quite different from my experience elsewhere – in the north, restaurants will carry aloo paratha, samosa, and kachori all day whether you find them fit for breakfast or not, and in the south, no restaurant worth its salt would stop making idli or dosa at any point of the day.

There is perhaps only one Jain cave that stands out – Cave XXXII, named the Indra Sabha; one thing I will clearly never understand is the naming conventions of some of these caves! In any case, Cave XXXII is a series of small shrines to Mahavira and other important tirthankaras of Jainism. There is a sarvatobhadra mandapa, meaning that there is a tirthankara facing each of the four cardinal directions; in this case, they are Rishabha, the founder of the faith, Parsvanatha, Neminatha, and Mahavira the great reformer. There is also a stambha and a free-standing rock elephant in the courtyard.

Indra, Cave XXXII, ElloraThe hall contains sculptures primarily of Mahavira, sometimes flanked by Indra on his Airavata; Neminatha is seen protected by Ambika on her lion, and Parsvanantha under the hood of a naga. There are several other key Jain figures in the hall like Gomateshwara, Sarvanabhuti, Bahubali, and others. The main shrine, at the back and centre of the hall, contained a large Mahavira in his usual dhyana mudra and padmasana.

The first floor of the cave contained more of the same. However, more of the paint seems to have survived here than in any of the other caves at Ellora. Though covered in centuries of grime and neglected by the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) – some may say that is a blessing in disguise – the remaining bits of the frescoes and murals give an idea of how wonderful the caves might have been when new.

We quickly wound up the rest of the Jain section and moved back to Kailasa where we ended the day. The temple is so massive that it takes a lot of time to take it all in; we were yet to explore the cloisters and that we did at the end of the second day, our last day in Ellora.

Despite being a UNESCO World Heritage site, Ellora is very poorly maintained. All the caves reek of largely chiropteran excrement or have anything more than natural lighting. One would simply have to be an above average photographer to capture the beauty of some of the sculptures in the recesses of the caves. Furthermore, the caves are still home to hundreds of bats and tourists should be careful in using their camera flash in the darker corners of the caves.

Yet the greatest danger to Ellora comes from elsewhere – Indians. It is shocking to see the criminal disregard the overwhelming majority of Indian visitors to Ellora show for the ancient rock sculptures. At several places, I saw litter and graffiti. This is a problem not just at Ellora but all Indian monuments I have visited. At Ellora, we also saw a special breed of idiot that insisted on climbing on top of the sculptures to take photographs. We even asked the guards to stop them but severely undermanned, had just given up and did not bother to fine or evict any of the visitors. By the second day, our horror had surpassed our desire to avoid conflict and a couple of us started yelling at the vandals to get off the artwork while others might have started mentally going through ancient and medieval torture techniques.

Maybe it is for the best that so many of India’s historical artifacts were looted by the British and are now on display in their museums – at least they are being preserved well. India’s ancient heritage needs to be preserved, no doubt, but the first step in that process seems to be to protect it from Indians.

I remember someone wondered if the defacement happens because of a loss of sacrality of the site – because the temples, chaityagrihas, and Buddhist viharas have fallen out of use, they are just ordinary structures and no longer sacred ones that need to be cherished. If true, this would be spell a sad fate for secular monuments; however, there is no reason to believe this is so as even functioning temples are quite filthy at times. Nearby Grishneshwar was dirty but not disgusting; Kashi and Puri, on the other hand, would drive any sane man to apostasy!

Graffiti Litter Vandals

One way to prevent such defacement is to raise the entry fees; at present, Indians and citizens of SAARC and BIMSTEC countries can gain access for ₹10 and other foreigners for ₹250. If this were raised to a hefty ₹1,000, it may not stop the vandalism – wealth or education did not appear to be criteria for being idiots – but it will at least reduce the crowds to a level that may be more manageable for the guards. The high entry fees would also ensure that Ellora is not just some picnic spot on the way to somewhere else – usually Shirdi – and only people interested in visiting the site would come in.

The caves ought to be cleaned and proper lighting provided. By proper, I mean bright yet soft light and bulbs that give off low heat. Given the affordability of MP3 players, audio guides to the caves in five or six Indian and foreign languages can also be easily made available.

One last thing I noticed about Ellora was the damage to many of the caves. The most common reason given is water damage but that simply does not cover it. The builders of Ellora, fully aware of the Elaganga and other streams that flow through the Charanandri Hills, would have taken measures to limit water damage. Furthermore, while water damage may still explain some of the damage to the extremities of the caves, it does not explain the damage to the sculptures deeper inside. Some of the damage can also be explained by the disrepair the caves fell into after the Muslim conquest of the region. Neglected by the authorities, the caves were used by locals as dwellings as well as to stable their livestock. However, a lot of the damage curiously involves decapitation of the hands, breasts, and head – typical of Islamic marauders as can be attested by Hampi and several other sites across India. It would be a striking coincidence if water damage explains this uniformly across all the caves.

My theory is that much of the damage was wrought by the Islamic overlords of Maharashtra, from the Khiljis, the Tughlaqs, the Bahamanis, and finally the Mughals. Part of the damage was caused by the lack of maintenance and royal patronage while a significant amount must have been caused by the iconoclasm of the invaders. If anyone has a better theory, I am more than willing to reconsider my assertion.

Ajanta from a distanceOn our last day in the region, we visited Ajanta. The first thing I learned was that the town name is pronounced अजिंठा and not अजंता as I have always heard. Admittedly, one is in Marathi and the latter in Hindi but since Indians seem to believe their regional flavours must be accommodated by all – Chennai, Kolkata, Mumbai, Puducherry – I was amused at the adhocism of this petulance.

Ajanta is about 95 kms away from Aurangabad and so not as conveniently reachable as Ellora is. On Indian roads, this translates to approximately two hours of driving. Strategically, visitors to the Ajanta would be better off staying in Jalgaon than Aurangabad. In any case, we had finally located some misal pav and had our fill – minor delays would not faze us that day!

Ajanta Cave 9Ajanta is a complex of 29 Buddhist caves, not all of which are finished, that were constructed in two phases. The first phase of cave building, under the Satavahanas, took place somewhere around 200 BCE and the second phase, during the reign of the Vakatakas, took place from 200 CE to 500 CE. Ajanta is therefore older than the cave complex at Ellora. It is common knowledge that the location of these caves was lost for centuries and Ajanta was found accidentally in 1819 by Captain John Smith, a British officer with the 28th Cavalry of the Madras Presidency, while hunting.

When we reached Ajanta, I was surprised to see how well planned the site was, very unlike most tourist sites in India. My surprise soon vanished when I found out that the Japanese government planned the tourist centre and access to the Ajanta complex; implementation, however, was in the hands of the Maharashtra government and quite poor. For example, there were two or three tickets we had to purchase and the bus from the tourist centre to the caves had another ticket – I am not sure why they could not all be combined into one fee. One more thing – the caves are not, yet again, in chronological order but simply numbered in the order they come on the east-to-west tourist path.

Ajanta Cave 9 BuddhaAfter Ellora, I did not think I could be impressed anymore; I had just seen some of the most magnificent manifestations of human artistic endeavour and surely there could be little to surpass the Ellora 35. I was wrong. The caves at Ajanta may not have surpassed Ellora but were easily their equals in grandeur and beauty. Here, the creators had been less intense with sculpture but the paintwork had survived the centuries due to the undisturbed state of Ajanta until 1819. The beautiful frescoes and murals, though covered in grime, were still vivid and even bright in some spots.

It is difficult for me to explain even the contents of the important caves because I am not well versed in the Buddhist canon. However, the subject matter of the murals and frescoes at Ajanta are events from the life of the Buddha, stories from the Jataka Tales, and events from the lives of some of the bodhisattvas; Ajanta is too early for the more “ornamented” versions of Buddhism, though that is what makes it better.

Padmapani, Ajanta Cave 1Cave I contains the murals of Padmapani and Vajrapani prominently seen in India’s tourism promotion campaigns. Caves IX and X are chaityagrihas – they have stupas in them – and tales from the Buddhist scriptures painted on the walls. Cave X was also the cave that Smith spotted and subsequently vandalised by scratching his name and date on one of the murals higher up. Cave XXVI is famous for its large reclining Buddha rock carving, showing the man at his moment of death. It also holds a magnificent Buddha sitting in front of a stupa and preaching.

The caves at Ajanta clearly present evidence that construction was carried out in two phases. The first phase matched the earlier and more austere Hinayana Buddhism while the latter is more in line with Mahayana Buddhism. One simple example is the increasing placement of Buddha’s statue in the shrine rather than the aniconic stupa in later caves. This is, however, an oversimplification – the latter caves are not fully Mahayana caves though they represent the transition from the earlier practices of Buddhism.

Black Buddha, AjantaSomething else that is quite interesting in the Ajanta caves is the occasional but not infrequent appearance of darker-complexioned people in the paintings. Unlike much of medieval Western art in which black represented evil, there is no hierarchy implied in the cave paintings at Ajanta. Vajrapani, Buddha’s dwarpalak and a bodhisattva, is dark. In fact, even the Buddha is frequently depicted as a black man. This is not surprising to anyone well-versed in Hindu literature – Krishna, one of the key protagonists in the Mahabharata and the eighth avatara of Vishnu, is always shown to be dusky. There is no doubt that there is an aesthetic preference for fairer skin among many in India but that preference does not at all extend to moral and character judgments about darker people. The cave paintings at Ajanta are yet another example of this fact.

I remember being asked to pay for a special ticket while entering Ajanta that was supposed to be for the lighting in the caves. Unlike Ellora, Ajanta has at least attempted to remedy the problem of darkness in the caves. However, the lighting is very poor and you will need a torch as you did at Ellora. Worse, I am not sure if the lighting installed by the management is conducive to the long life of the artwork in the caves – I would have expected a brighter and softer light, probably LEDs, that gave off much less heat than what has been provided presently.

We finished with Ajanta and headed back to Pune. Ajanta is open from 09 00 until 17 00 but we did not spend the whole day wandering through the caves. This was due to the way our itinerary had turned out but honestly, I was a bit bored in the Buddhist and Jain caves of Ajanta and Ellora. No doubt, they are exquisite creations, but they are difficult to appreciate for someone not fluent in Buddhist and Jain cosmology. I walked in, was wow’ed, and I walked out – after all, there are only so many times you can see a buddha in pralambapadasana holding a vyakhyana mudra and not get bored. Growing up on the exponentially vaster Hindu canon, I took for granted what outsiders might consider mind-boggling and ultimately confusing diversity of Hinduism. My familiarity with the various avataras of Vishnu and Shiva, not to mention the epics, is hardly scholarly but these things are the sort of stuff any normal Indian would be weaned on and just know. My quick saturation with the Buddhist and Jain caves in no way takes away from them but only expresses my weaker understanding of their canon and hence an inability to enjoy them as thoroughly as I did the Hindu caves.

If you are from afar, you may want to spend some time in Aurangabad too now that you have travelled so much. The city has a few sites of interest, the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb’s unassuming tomb near Ellora being one of them. Alamgir’s first wife is also buried there in the Bibi ka Maqbara, which looks a little like a poor man’s Taj Mahal. The Daulatabad fort may also be worth a visit. The city also has a few dargahs but none quite so spectacular or for anyone so renowned – you would be better off spending your limited time elsewhere than visit mausoleums for every Tanveer, Dastagir, and Hamid.

The misal pav was one hunt we went on but if you are non-vegetarian, do not miss out on Aurangabad’s famous naan qalia, a delicious mutton preparation.

India is hot, tropical country, and Maharashtra offers no respite; Aurangabad can be quite hot and sunny even in the non-summer months. You may want to bring along a cap, sunglasses, and some sunscreen if you do not get along with Suryadev but more importantly, be sure to keep yourself well hydrated. There is a canteen at the entrance of the Ellora complex where you can replenish your supplies, and an extra bottle of water in your backpack will not hurt. The catch here is that, like most places in India, the bathrooms are utterly filthy. Beware, you have been warned!

Like most tourism in India, Ajanta and Ellora makes one seriously consider if the dirt and grime is really worth the potential pleasure of seeing an important historical site, and like most places, the answer is a resounding “Yes” after a moment’s hesitation. These two World Heritage sites are an absolute must-see for anyone interested in Indian art, and mine was a long weekend well spent.

A few photographs from…a different kind of spelunking:

Kailasa vihara Ganesha, Cave 17, Ellora Kailasa mahayogi

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