Category Archives: Exploring India

photo essay: hampi, stories told and untold

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Don’t mistake the swarms of visitors at Hampi as tourists. Not all of them are. Most of them are pilgrims. For in Hampi, nestled in a surreal boulder-strewn landscape in north Karnataka, each stone is sacred.

Irrevocably tied to the Hindu epic Ramayana, Hampi traces itself back to a mystical past. Anegundi, the expanse across Hampi’s Tungabhadra river, was then known as the vanar [monkey] Kishkindha kingdom ruled by King Sugriva. In the epic, Sugriva’s commander Hanuman and army of monkeys helped Rama rescue his wife Sita from the demon Ravana.

Fast forward a few millennia from otherworldly mythology to historical facts substantiated by Kannada inscriptions and journals of Italian merchant Nicolo di Conti [1420], Persian diplomat Abdur Raazaq [1442], and Portuguese traveller Domingo Paes [1520].

Hampi, was now the capital of the wealthy, secular, and immensely powerful Hindu Vijayanagar empire. The richest city in the Indian subcontinent and the second biggest city in the world, it ruled a realm that encompassed modern-day Karnataka, Telangana, Andhra Pradesh, and Tamil Nadu.


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aihole, cradle of indian temple architecture

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Indian temple design did not arrive at in a day. Surprised? 🙂

More surprising is where its evolution took place.

The floor-plans and superstructures one takes so much for granted today took shape in a tiny village in north Karnataka over a period of two hundred years of vigorous, yet brazen experimentation.

Known as the ‘cradle of Hindu temple architecture,’ Aihole, the first capital of the Early Chalukya Kingdom [6th to 8th Century] served as a laboratory for the construction of sacred sites.

From rock-cut cave temples to apsidal-shaped monumental structures to one akin to a cozy homely hut. From the ‘northern’ high curved Nagara-style and ‘southern’ pyramidal stepped Dravida-style superstructures to the hybrid ornate Vesara model typical of the Deccan. They all came into being here.

There are 15 prototypes of sandstone standalone and rock-cut cave temples in Aihole’s over 125. Each a masterpiece built by architects 1,500 years ago who designed fearlessly and were ready to break stereotypes.

It was a feat made possible by the prevailing rulers’ openness and willingness to experiment as they reigned over the Deccan, a region sandwiched between the north and south of the Indian subcontinent.

Currently on the UNESCO World Heritage Tentative List for its role in temple architecture evolution, many of Aihole’s edifices owe their names to a more recent and lax naming ceremony. Durga Temple is not dedicated to the goddess, but refers to a later Durg or watchtower built on its roof. Lad Khan temple, Aihole’s oldest temple, is so named because when discovered by the Archaeological Survey of India, it was known as where a Mr. Lad Khan once lived. A gentle reminder of Indian plurality. 🙂 And the Ravana Phadi rock-cut cave temple has less to do with Ravana and more to do with Shiva.

Next time you walk into a Hindu temple, surrounded by a familiar standardized floor-plan and superstructure, just remind yourself it is a design which won the lottery and got pushed into the future. There were many others in the original basket where these came from. And if you are curious about them, here are some of the candidates.

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travel shorts: pattadakal, a marriage of sorts

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Anyone who is acquainted with the idea of India, will also be familiar with the great north-south divide. It encompasses ethnicity, language, culture and in a deeply religious nation, temple architecture. Yet, in a narrow strip atop the Deccan plateau, one gets to witness a marriage of sorts in the latter that is completely unique to the subcontinent.

Pattadakal, a UNESCO-listed 7th-8th Century World Heritage Site displays this north-south eclectic mix at its finest. The enclosed part of the site is made up of eight temples—three of which are models, one a ‘project work,’ and four designed as full-fledged functional places of worship.

The Virupaksha Temple in the last group, with its sophisticated amalgamation of north and south elements, has been in continuous use since its consecration in 740 CE. It was commissioned by Lokamahadevi, a powerful Chalukya Queen, to commemorate her husband’s victory over the Pallava kings of the South.

If you have been wondering about my terminology, it is because Pattadakal, along with Aihole, were akin to a ‘laboratory’ where architects and artisans under royal decree experimented with temple architecture.

How about a corridor through which the local populace could circumambulate the holy sanctum which was otherwise out of bounds? A Nandi to mark the temple site? Perhaps a kalash finale atop the roof symbolising the meeting of heaven and earth? This investigational process, carried out over a couple of centuries culminated in Pattadakal’s most sophisticated edifices. Where the north and south architectural styles, till then side by side in platonic comradery, also merged in a hybrid blend for a while.

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travel diaries: four caves, a lake, a seeker and badami

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One of Badami Cave Temples' most impressive sculptures: Shiva as the 18-armed Nataraja doing the Tandava Nritya—the cosmic dance of creation, preservation, and destruction.

One of Badami Cave Temples’ most impressive sculptures: Shiva as the 18-armed Nataraja doing the Tandava Nritya—the cosmic dance of creation, preservation, and destruction.

One is never far from the gods in India. They are everywhere. Carved out of living rock. Carved into living rock. As far back as even 578 CE.

It is just after lunchtime, and I am at the foot of a gigantic red sandstone escarpment. Hundreds of school-children are racing down the steep uneven steps hewn into the cliff’s face. Their teachers shout behind them to slow down. Not that their wards pay any attention to the ominous warnings. Dressed in shiny tracksuits, they run in and out of the cavernous halls, doubled over in unstoppable giggles.

Slicing their way through this human avalanche are staid family groups. Their elderly matriarchs stomping ahead, undeterred by limps or wobbly canes.

“Aaj bahut bheed hai [It is very crowded today],” I observe to the security guard at the gate. “Roz aisa hai. Season hai na aaj kal [It is like this every day. It is the season nowadays],” he smiles back happily.

In a few months these cliffs will be deserted again, first under the scorching summer sun and then because of the monsoons which would make the stone steps a veritable death trap.

Yet such ominous weathers rarely affected pilgrims in the distant past. 1,400 years ago.

Portrait of a man in Ancient India. Ancient Hindu temples, by virtue of their depiction of both the sacred and secular, offer a fascinating insight into the then prevailing norms and societies.

Portrait of a man in Ancient India. Ancient Hindu temples, by virtue of their depiction of both the sacred and secular, offer a fascinating insight into the then prevailing norms and societies.

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a self-guided walk through shimla, the british raj’s summer capital

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1864. The British Crown was now directly in control of the Indian subcontinent. Five years had passed since they had squashed the Indian Mutiny. It had been a tough fight lasting nearly two years and two months, but they’d won in the end.

Summers in their new capital, Calcutta, were, however, brutal. Oh, how they longed for the grey overcast days back home, bathed in gentle drizzle.

Since the 1820s, the earlier British East India Company officers stationed in India had been escaping from the sun-baked plains to a hamlet in the middle hills of the Himalayas during such summers. The hamlet, comprising some 50 houses, was called Shayamala after a local Hindu goddess.

India’s new rulers decided to make this association more permanent. They renamed the hamlet ‘Shimla,’ and set up the British Raj’s ‘Summer Capital’ on its seven hills.

Every year, just before the sweltering heat clamped down on the Gangetic plains, the entire administrative machinery would move here, replete with traders, restaurateurs, and socialites. Once the heat cooled down, and snow started to peck its slopes, they would all move back again south-eastwards.

A mini-Britain was created in Shimla’s hills. Timber-strapped Tudor houses, soaring neo-Gothic churches, grand town halls, and a theatre for concerts and plays. On the Ridge, which offered rather splendid views, a bandstand was thrown in where military bands could play music and the gentry could indulge in leisurely strolls. Not too shabby now, perhaps they whispered to each other in relief.

Though it is now 77 years since the British have left, their summer capital’s remnants still dot Shimla, and more so on its main commercial pedestrian artery—Mall Road.

Here is a self-guided walk on what to watch out for should you ever be in the vicinity, with suggestions for eating and staying dating back to the colonial days. Take your time and savour its charms. After all, Shimla was always for the long haul. ❤

PS. Take the lift up to Mall Road, and on exiting the lift turn left towards Christ Church.

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kullu manali and their 11 loadstones

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Loadstone: Noun. A person or thing that is the focus of attention or attraction. In aplenty. In other words—Kullu and Manali.

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Two of India’s most popular hill stations’ names are often taken in the same breath. Even though they are separated by some 40-odd kilometres.

Welcome to Kullu Manali. Two towns located on the verdant Kullu valley in India’s Himachal Pradesh with the ice-blue Beas river gurgling past them.

Free of a colonial overprint, or the culture and faith of an invading ruler, these two towns have in the past, as well as today, continue to epitomize Himachal history, traditions, and heritage. In all its unadulterated richness.

Gods are in abundance here, and so are centuries-old beliefs. The lines between mythology and mundane reality are blurred with characters from the epics Mahabharata and Ramayana popping up everywhere. Ancient sages, mythical heroes, demons, and the proverbial Noah [in Hinduism’s case Manu] who set forth from his ark to kick-start the lineage of mankind. They are all somehow associated with the Kullu valley which has earned itself the moniker ‘Valley of Gods.’

There’s also tall graceful fir trees, rivers fed by melting glaciers punctuated with hot water springs, and wooden homes which have housed many a generation of pahari [mountain] folks inside their weathered walls.

You will need at least a few days to get acquainted with Kullu and Manali’s sites. Hotels and taxis are easily available. Let me not go into them here. Rather let this post be a roadmap of what makes these two towns attract pilgrims and tourists in their droves, always. ❤ Continue reading →

part 3: the spiti trilogy: lahaul, the mystical side of life and himachal

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Prayer flags at Kunzum Pass. Because the gods live in the mountains.

Prayer flags at Kunzum Pass. Because the gods live in the mountains.

Welcome to part 3 of my photo diary trilogy on Kinnaur, Spiti, and Lahaul, high up in the Himalayas in India’s Himachal Pradesh.

If Kinnaur is all about the lush flourishing side of living, and Spiti the very opposite—about its barrenness, then Lahaul is the natural outcome of going through both sides of life. It is of tuning in with one’s inner self. I guess you could simply also describe it as meeting one’s Maker.

Here in Lahaul, Buddhist chants echo from monasteries perched atop peaks. Lakes contain deities and so do mountain passes. There is the sacred everywhere, and it is celebrated with much joy.

I would like to share my journey through Lahaul valley with you here. Maybe its magic captures your heart and soul too. 🙂

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part 2: the spiti trilogy: spiti, the barren side of life and himachal

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Buddha statue in Langza Village. Because the gods live in the mountains.

Buddha statue in Langza Village. Because the gods live in the mountains.

Welcome to part 2 of my photo diary trilogy on Kinnaur, Spiti, and Lahaul.

This week’s post is about Spiti, a cold desert biosphere in the rain shadow area of the Himalayas bordering Tibet. India’s monsoons do not reach here. Even if they do manage to squeeze their way past the soaring peaks, all they are able to muster is a drizzle. The summers are always dry. The winters are covered in thick snow and ice.

None of which is conducive to agriculture except if carried out on the banks of the Spiti river. The land is otherwise brown and barren, its moonscapes strewn with sand and boulders. Nestled in this arid bleakness are countless ancient monasteries, bedecked and bejewelled with Tibetan Tantric Buddhist iconography. These pockets of sanctity serve as places of refuge, giving strength and meaning beyond a difficult life.

Come along with me to Spiti.

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part 1: the spiti trilogy: kinnaur, the verdant side of life and himachal

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Sangla valley—Sangla means 'Pass of Light' in Tibetan language. Because the gods live in the mountains.

Sangla valley—Sangla means ‘Pass of Light’ in Tibetan language. Because the gods live in the mountains.

I have always seen myself as an ocean person. I love the rhythm of crashing waves, the smell of salt in the sea air, the white foam breaking into froth around my feet, and tugging me along as it leaves.

And then I went to the Lahaul and Spiti valleys and everything changed inside of me. I became a mountain soul. Those who have been there will understand what I mean.

The Lahaul and Spiti district in India’s northern state of Himachal Pradesh is one of the most beautiful places I have travelled to. Remote and untouched, its offroad route is accessed through neighbouring Kinnaur district if coming in from the Shimla side. When exiting, it continues to Manali to form a loop. Kinnaur and Lahaul are both verdant and green. Sandwiched between them, Spiti, in stark contrast, is a high mountain barren desert perched on the soaring Himalayan range, wild and windswept.

Starting with today, I will be posting a photo diary trilogy of Kinnaur, Spiti, and Lahaul over the coming three weeks. Care to join me and let your soul fall in love with the mountains too? ❤

Note: Lahaul and Spiti used to be two separate districts and were merged into one in 1960. For the purpose of this trilogy, they are treated separately because of their geographic distinctiveness.

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the story of qutub minar

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Prologue

Perhaps it would be more apt to title this post: Stories about Qutub Minar. As in plural.

Apart from being Delhi’s most iconic monument, it is steeped in multiple stories and a whole lot of firsts, making it unlike any other in the city. To top it, it is not the handiwork of any one ruler or dynasty, but is a collaborative effort spanning 800 years with even an East India Company officer adding his own bit to it—a Bengal-styled chhatri perched on top of the tower, which was thankfully brought down twenty years later.

So, here are Qutub Minar’s most famous stories. The spunk behind its stones. 😊 Continue reading →