Some People Are So Poor All They Have Is Money – Part Two
A temple in the clouds
It is easy to get templed out on an extensive tour around the south of India.
As a confirmed agnostic I find Hinduism no more appealing than any other religion on offer, although its chaotic brand of polytheism – there is a god to suit every situation – and the lack of a formal timetable for religious observance does make it seem more of a way of life than a strict religion. On the other hand, it is socially conservative and too much power invested in the hands of priests can never be a good thing. And the prospect of doing without beef is too much to contemplate.
But from an architectural standpoint, I did find that I got a very good sense of the development of what is known as the Dravidian style of architecture, the temples being dramatically different in design and appearance from others to be found in other parts of the sub-continent. Indeed, the southern Indians claim to have a different ancestry – more directly from Africa – from their fairer skinned Indo-Aryan brothers up north, whom one dismissively referred to as Afghan invaders.
The starting point chronologically, if not on our itinerary, was the breath-taking Mahabalipuram on the Coromandel coast, about 60 km south of Chennai. Here are to be found the Pallava cave temples which are reputed to be amongst the oldest surviving specimens of Dravidian architecture. Essentially, they consist of mandapas or verandahs with rows of pillars bearing lions at their foot, the symbol of the Pallavan dynasty. The walls have carved depictions of scenes from Hindu mythology, the standout items for me was the Krishna Mandapa with the eponymous god holding up a hill to protect his people from the torrential rains and the astonishing Descent of the Ganges. There is evidence that some of the carvings were decorated.
Further along are the five structures that make up the Pancha Rathas, each meticulously carved out of a single enormous slab of granite, built around the second half of the 7th century CE. Each structure takes the form of a chariot – ratha – and it is mindboggling to think of the time and effort that went on to create these structures from an enormous rock. Slightly unfortunately, the untimely death of Narasimhavarman the First meant that these structures were never consecrated. Be that as it may there is nothing quite like them anywhere else in India.
Standing precariously by the shoreline is the slightly later Shore Temple, built in the early 8th century CE from blocks of granite, hauled from a nearby quarry. A pyramid structure that stands some 60 feet high it faces east and the sun’s early morning rays shine directly on to the Shiva Linga, the shrine to the main deity.
The biggest temple we visited was the Meenakshi temple that occupied the centre of old Madurai. It had five gateways and enormous Vimana or pyramidic structures, decorated with thousands of stucco carvings, each gaudily painted. The interior was almost like a cathedral and reminded me of the Temple of the Tooth in Kandy, with its separate shrines. It came with its own temple elephant who in return for a note which it took up in its trunk would pat you on your head.
The Kapaleeshwar Temple in Chennai was another favourite, built, supposedly, on the site of an original Pallavan temple dating from the seventh century CE, but the present manifestation was started in the 16th century. It had two enormous gopura, gatehouses, the larger of which stands 40 metres high and was built as recently as 1906.
And here I saw a guy wearing a tee-shirt which provided the strap line to this series. You only get profundity like this in India!
