My bus dropped me at Thanjavur’s old bus stand on an overcast morning in the first week of March. It had rained all night and the day was pleasant. Getting out of the bus stand, I looked around for someone who can tell me the directions to the temple. I need not have bothered; Brihadisvara temple is the only high-rise building in the town rising up by fourteen stories and 216 feet. It is called Brihadisvara or The Big Temple for nothing! A short 5 minutes walk from the bus stop and I was already in front of the temple.
The Gopuras of Thanjavur Temple. See how far away is the third and tallest thirteen story tower
The first impression of the temple is entirely dominated by its three gopuras. Rising steeply beyond a wide enclosure, the brownish sandstone structures of the tallest tower stands up distinctly with its uncommon, pyramidal shape. The temple is almost like a fort. Its outer wall is a good 10 feet high and stands behind a trench built along the wall. The entrance to the temple, which is tall on its own but dwarfed by the main tower, is marked by a gopura embellished with various gods. Surprisingly, the ubiquitous market lanes outside the temple of such size, selling pooja paraphernalia is missing completely and is substituted by just a couple of flower vendors.
Entering through the main door leads to a wide-open area covered with green grass that is typical of places managed by the Archeological Society of India. I left my footwear at the Chappal stand, bought a booklet on Thanjavur and started my explorations. A search for guides who could show me around and explain was not successful but the booklet I had bought made up for it with its detailed explanation of architecture and history.
Beyond the main entrance is another high wall separating the inner courtyard. The sandstone wall is decorated with small statues of Nandi at uniform intervals along the perimeter, adding up to a few hundreds of them. I walked along the wall marveling at the high rise of the temple and the enormous effort that would have been spent to build it. Behind the temple is a peaceful tamarind grove that is completely isolated from rest of the world by the large temple enclosure, and gives a feeling of calmness and seclusion. I picked a few fallen fruits of tamarind and chewed the sweet and sour fruit in pleasure. The leafy trees are haunted by a few parakeets that burst into a ruckus every now and then.
I was enchanted by the atmosphere and loathed to move on and into the temple’s inner courtyard. But the greed to see more overcame the indulgence of the moment, and I pulled myself forward. The huge inner courtyard has a few smaller shrines situated around the main temple. There is a giant Nandi guarding the shrine, said to be the third largest Nandi statue in the country. I presume that obviously translate to third largest in the world; can we expect a super-sized Nandi statue anywhere else but in India? The roof of the Nandi Mantapa has brightly colored frescoes of floral patterns giving me a glimpse of Thanjavur’s famous frescoes. None of the structures in the temple stand anywhere close in size to the main gopura. The tower has a crown of 80 tonne stone and there have been speculations on how it was lifted all the way up. The lingam in sanctum stands high like the tower it is under, and measures 13 feet.
The insides of the main temple is said to have sections with frescoes that are now closed for visitors to prevent possible damages. Inner walls of the temple courtyard have a few paintings that are in various stages of decay and it looks like ASI has given up on these. Only few of these are in reasonable condition but plaster on the wall has peeled off from most of the paintings, and shockingly, many paintings have been ruined by mindless graffiti. The roof of Amman temple has painted murals but there seems to be some repainting attempts done by untrained hands in the recent years, which has only helped in degenerating them.
Most of the temple’s visitors are tourists and busloads of children on school trips. They usually walk around the temple quickly and head out. Fortunately, despite the oversized temple, Thanjavur is not a well-known pilgrimage center. It is not associated with any mythological incidences that so often binds our temples and nor has it any special significance that would attract devout people in hoards. That means the temple is generally quiet, devoid of any major pooja activity, events or the otherwise ever-present loudspeakers, allowing one to explore the place in peace.
Brihadisvara temple was built by Raja Raja Chola during early years of the eleventh century AD, in the heydays of his kingdom. Later rulers made further additions to the main shrine with contributions from the Nayaks and Marathas post 16th century. Now the temple complex includes an Amman temple next to the Nandi, and a Murugan temple and Ganapathi temple to either sides of the main shrine. The famous Thanjavur style paintings were inscribed inside the temple by the Cholas and enhanced by Nayak rulers.
I spotted the young and active temple elephant as I was heading out. I watched the charming elephant accept donations and bless a few devotees and could not help approaching her myself. Picking up a dozen Bananas, I offered them to the pachyderm, which swallowed them all in seconds as I patted her trunk. As I was about to retreat, the Mahout asked me to bow in front and receive its blessings, to which I obliged. It graciously lifted its trunk and gently rested the tip of it on my head, splattering a few drops of saliva on me! I prodded its trunk and wondered on how strong and tough are the trunks that actually appear soft and agile.
My next stop was the Thanjavur palace which is a fifteen minute walk from the temple. The palace was built by Nayak rulers in 16th century and subsequent additions were made by the Marathas. While the Brihadisvara temple is in a good condition and is well managed, the palace is in shambles. A part of the palace complex is converted into a school. As I walked towards the palace, a few kids bumped into me struck a friendly conversation and posed for pictures. There is some digging and construction activity within the palace courtyard, and there are no signs or information to help visitors about where to go. The interiors are dusty, poorly maintained and cry from neglect.
Thanjavur Palace
Despite all this, the palace has its treasures worth seeing. The Maratha Darbar hall, an open-air auditorium that now has weeds growing all around, has some impressively painted designs worth looking at. Saraswathi Mahal Library inside the palace has a collection of precious ancient books which were once a personal collection of Maratha king Sarfoji. Though the books aren’t accessible to visitors, a few books and some paintings are exhibited in glass casing that makes the visit worthy. Beautiful miniature paintin
gs of Ramayana and picture books on Mahabharata are some of the exhibits worth looking into.
Maratha Darbar Hall
The structure of the palace is unique and doesn’t seem to have any kind of precedence. A seven-story bell tower at the palace entrance almost looks like a modern multi-storied building. Sections of the palace complex now house museums showcasing artifacts from the time of Cholas to the Marathas.
My day in the town ended with the wanderings in the palace. Like the Brihadisvara temple, the palace also has a few structures that are fairly big. Also big is also the impression that Thanjavur leaves with its visitor.
See the first part of this article – Madurai Meenakshi Temple – I
The surroundings of Sundareshwarar temple have a feel very different from that of Meenakshi temple. Open spaces and well lit veranda give way to long and dark passages with shafts of light peeping in from the corners. The main entrance leads me to a mantapa with a Nandi in its middle, facing the main deity. The pillars of the mantapa are covered with carvings of Shiva in his varied forms – Nataraja, Bhairava and Ardhanareeshwara. Continuing the temple’s love with garish metallic structures that disturb the harmony of its surroundings, in the middle of the mantapa is a gleaming yellow pillar that stands apart from its environment.
Devotees come and go in quick successions in the hall surrounding the mantapa, circumambulating the gods adorning the pillars of the edifice. A mural of Hanuman covered in kumkum and decorated with a hanging lamp sees visitors like no other. Wick lamps lit, flowers offered and a pradakshina made, they move on after applying kumkum on their foreheads, in a mood that is visibly contented. As I stand in a corner and watch people go by, their numbers in the hall keeps changing quickly between a few handful to many a dozen, but never disturbing the silence and calmness of the environs.
Along the corridors, the outer walls have been a subject of creativity of the artists. Unstructured, yet beautiful and colourful murals crowd the walls – there are warring people, priests, women churning butter, common people – representing life in the times of their creators. Inside, the sanctum is guarded by life-sized murals of elephants on each side of its door, with their trunks raised up. Flickering orange lamps burning along the door frame provide a brilliant, lively decor to the dark interior. The linga rests in the sanctum on a platform, under the shade of a serpent(adishesha?). The impressions of the modern days are visible here too, in the form of granite flooring that contradicts the beauty of dark stone structures surrounding it.
In front of the complex of Sundareshwarar shrine is a small market selling trinkets, arty materials, small statues and images of all kind of gods. The statues are painted in brightest possible yellow that can make the most willing buyer to reconsider. A door adjoining these shops leads to the gigantic thousand pillar hall, inside of which is crowded with thick stone pillars in every direction. The hall is now a museum that serves no purpose but of a store room for haphazardly installed statues that are in a desperate state, which only disturb the beauty of uniform array of pillars.
In the few days that I spent wandering the temple and its surroundings, the brightly lit Potramarai Kulam and its painted surroundings kept pulling me back to its environs. I cherished the morning hours sitting on the steps leading to the tank, spent watching the pigeons flying in and out of the water, admiring the view of the towers that aim for the sky, and sometimes lost, with the complex labyrinth of thoughts in mind melting away into nothingness in the calm moments.
As I moved on from Madurai and its temples, the scale of its structures and the intent of its creators remained as an enigma. Was it a wish to show-off their prosperity to their people and rest of the world? An icon of their moments of celebration? Or was it truly a show of their utmost belief and devotion of the supreme power? I am yet to understand.
“It will be nice in the mornings,” a friend had told me before I left for Madurai. I grudgingly wake up before sunrise, wishing for a few more hours of sleep. The streets are empty but for the watchman of my hotel and a couple of two wheelers that were drifting away slowly. Perfume draws me towards a small coffee-shop manned by a short man with an innocent smile. The coffee is good, and at three rupees, is the cheapest I have had in many years. I had to have another cup.
Life expanded as I walked towards the temple. There is more light and a few shops are already open, but still hardly any people on the roads. A sadhu with a long beard squatted on the approach to temple, wearing bright saffron, his forehead smeared with Vibhoothi. There is just enough light for me to catch the glitter of warmth exuding from his eyes.
West Gopura of Madurai Meenakshi Temple
Repeated chants of ‘Om Namah Shivaya’ effused by loudspeakers from the temple, indicating that they are already open. Otherwise peace of the morning is disturbed by the continuous chant that is probably on since 5am. It would haunt me inside the temple too, till as late as 8.
Madurai Temple is roughly divided into two major sections – one around Meenakshi shrine to the south and the other around the sanctuary of Sundareshwarar to the North. The eastern entrance has the temple market selling flowers, trinkets, photos and statues of all kind of gods and goddesses. A huge thousand pillar hall which seems to have served a purpose no more than showing off the might of the kings is housed in a corner at the south, which is now converted into a museum. A fort-like high wall encloses all these, with four tall Gopuras one for each direction.
Entering Madurai Meenakshi Temple
The Gopuras dominate Madurai’s skyline and their might is evident from far away. As I walk closer, I pain my neck trying to looking up at all the brightly coloured statues covering every inch of the tower. There are goddesses with uncountable number of hands, gods with multiple heads, demons with long canines, dancing nataraja, calm Subrahmanya with blessing hands and men and women of all kind – earthly and celestial. Leaving their bodies which are painted fair or dark, rest of the Gopura are smeared in every conceivable color by the creative brush of the artist. There are clothes red, yellow and white. Crowns are orange and green. Only the armoury and jewellery of gods are allowed to stay sober in color. The space between statues are painted with a shade of gentle purple that is fading, and there is so little of free space that it fails to become the dominant color of the towers.
I think of the engineering capability of those times used for building these complex structure looming several hundred feet high, at a time when the word skycraper would not have been invented yet. The amount of labour used must be phenomenal enough that current day governments and temple authorities might squirm just to imagine the time and effort they have to spend maintaining the structures.
Potramarai Kulam, Madurai Meenakshi Temple
Entering through the West Gopura, I walk along the temple corridor to the east and reach Potramarai Kulam – The Golden Lotus Pond. Southern Gopura, the tallest of the lot dominates the environs of the pond. Sun is just out and the tip of Gopura is bathed in bright light, rest of it still in shade. A large metal lotus in the pond, colored in yellow would have given the pond its name. Water level is no more than a few inches and the floor appears cemented. A small square in the center isolated from rest of the pond is crowded with lilies and houses a metal pillar in the center – another one painted in yellow. A few pigeons fly in and out every now and then, probably enjoying the feel of shallow water on their feet. The otherwise quiet environs of the pond is unsettled only by continuous chants of ‘Om Namah Shivaya’.
I sit on the steps leading to the pond watching sun rays slowly light up more and more of the southern tower. A sign posted on a pillar next to me, and directly opposing the Gopura and the lake, proudly proclaims its location as ‘Photo Spot’. The corridor around the pond is colored to life with bright Rangoli. I sit quietly on the steps and observe life in the temple, and watch people walk back and forth with tiny pooja baskets. Time moves uneventful and I am lost in non-thought till a man comes and decides to disturb my moments of solitude. He tells me that I should go around the temple and visit the shrine before sitting here, and offers himself as my escort. I politely try to shrug him off with a lie, telling him that it is all done already, but he is not ready to move. I then resort to ignoring him which works fine, and I am back to non-thought mode.
Sun seems to move up really fast, and it was strong and bright all over before 8am. The recorded chants of ‘Om Namah Shivaya’ are replaced by someone singing carnatic music accompanied by Mridanga and Nadaswara. I am keen to linger here, but the rising sun eventually forces me to move. I hear sound of anklets behind me which grow stronger on approach, and become unusually intense as it gets closer. Turning around, I see walking behind me is not a damsel in dancing costume but the charming temple elephant striding with her Mahout. Finding an excuse to leave my seat of comfort,I walk behind the elephant like excited little children in a village who would run behind a motor car.
A woman lights a lamp for Nandi
I stroll further, exploring corners of the temple and put myself in the shoes of observer of life in the temple. A small statue of Nandi is lit with dozens of tiny wick lamps releasing gentle orange flames. Women keet walking in, prostrate in front of Nandi to light a lamp, smear their forehead with a tiny dot of kumkum from the Nandi and move on. A statue of Ganesha keeps watch of people going in and out of the sanctuary of goddess Meenakshi.
Premises of Meenakshi Shrine
The inner prangana(courtyard) is heavily criss-crossed with steel barricades meant to enforce a queue. Garish metals stand out amidst the stone walls and structures of the ancient days. Bright railings of stainless steel, tastelessly installed gold plated coverings for stone pillars and a Nataraja in silver stand out among the dark walls and dimly lit interior. The sanctum is lit only with gentle orange hues of flickering wick lamps that surround the deity. Devotees, only a few in number stand in line to receive prasada and take their time gazing at the deity. There is no rush or hurry. The evening pooja draws a decent crowd that just about fills the inner courtyard and justifies the barricades to some extent.
Coming out from the Meenakshi shrine, I walk forward to the enclave of Sundareshwarar.
Continued in Part II