Kanchipuram
Religion is the opiate of the masses.
- Karl Marx
“Life is ephemeral like the water on a lotus leaf. The entire world is devoured by sorrow and deceit; realize this now!” - This or something in a similar vein from the “Baja Govindam” is etched on one of the walls of the ‘Shankara Mutt’ at Kanchipuram in Tamilnadu. No one around seems to pay particular attention to this. They appear immersed in prayer, worrying about their own sorrows and probably seeking divine intervention rather than having thoughts of renouncing the world just then.
Kanchipuram is one of the 7 most sacred places of worship for the Hindus. I found myself in Kanchipuram enroute a whimsical ride from Bangalore to Chennai for the New Year’s. The ride itself had kept me in mighty good spirits by the time I reached Kanchipuram (despite a hitchhiker, I had given a ride to, who first wanted me to find him employment and later wanted me to pay him money to take a bus!). The beautiful roads had been a pleasure – stretching out for miles like a freshly laid carpet and just as inviting.
Reaching Kanchipuram fairly early and finding a nice little room in a hotel, I got out to explore the small town. Other than recently being in the news for the alleged murder committed by the current Shankaracharya and of course the ‘non-veg’ saris, I hardly knew anything about this place. Kanchipuram is steeped in history and tall temple towers are visible from most parts of the town in almost all directions. It struck me that most religious structures are tall – church steeples, Buddhist stupas, Egyptian/ Mayan temples, minarets of mosques, gopurams of hindu temples. Also, many places of worship are located on hills and high places – Mt.Abu, St Thomas Mt, Tirupati. Could this be so that the presiding temple would always be visible to most of the local populace and thereby induce the “fear of God” in them? I wonder if there is an anthropological explanation.
The first temple I entered was called the “Ulagalandha Perumal” (God who measured the earth *). It has got to do with the whole Mahabali story, but this version has Mahabali requesting the lord to leave his head peeking out of the ground. I strolled down to the “Kamakshi Amman” temple. Though I had my camera with me and cameras are strictly not allowed in the sanctum, the officer let me through (simple human decency so makes my day sometimes). I reciprocated by not taking any snaps. I then walked over to the “Shankar Mutt” where the earlier depressing quote from the “Baja Govindam” was etched on the wall. Another one said:”The hair is grey, the body is decrepit, the mouth is toothless, yet the old bag of desires moves on”. Now help me with this. The religion obviously condemns human desire and seems to especially in old age. But any day, I’d rather be a toothless Hugh Hefner, with desire to live on the moon than the guy waiting for deliverance into the supreme with nothing else occupying the mind. As I was leaving the mutt, a couple of musicians started tuning their instruments – a nadaswaram and a drum of some sort. I sat down beside them and watched. The performance began and the music began to fill the hall. The artist on the nadaswaram seemed to have lost himself in the music that he and the pipe created. Artist and instrument seemed an unbroken, lucid, uniform entity. The performance blew me to bits. The artist’s fervor and devotion in the form of his music entered my mind –at first seeping through and then in tumultuous barrage, bursting opening all doors -no mater how tightly locked. Something ridiculous bordering on funny happened at the mutt soon after. A female pachyderm- richly decorated – was paraded in front of a stone idol of one of the earlier Shankaracharyas - His Holiness Jagadguru Sri Chandra Shekharendra Saraswati(impressive huh?), I think. The priest gave the beast a fan and meanwhile the mahout started prodding the poor creature under her sensitive (I assume) thighs until she started fanning the idol. How proud is man of his superior intellect that makes him the master of all beasts, that can catch and tame a creature many times his size but I wonder if he will also look with contempt for such base use of the same intellect. Fanning an idol with an elephant! Give me a break.
I moved on to the “Ekambernath Temple” (Lord of the ‘one’ mango tree*). Easily the most impressive of the temples I had visited that day – both architecturally and historically. The temple dates to the pre-thousand A.Ds and had been built and rebuilt by the Kings of Chola and Pallava dynasty. Legend has it that a 3500 year old mango tree thrived there that had only 4 branches – each branch representing each veda. Each of the branches was supposed to yield mangoes of distinct flavor! All I saw was an old fallen tree and it surely had more than 4 branches. The temple has wonderful sculptured gargoyles and pillars along its corridors. A shiver ran down my spine when my hand brushed against a sculpture that is centuries old. I wonder about the hand that held it at while actually sculpting the piece – ephemeral life, maybe, but I think it’s worth it.
For Rs 5, I am permitted a special darshan and for Rs 15 I pick up a pamphlet called “The shrines of Kanchee”. I’m sure that humor was far away from the author’s mind when he wrote this, but the small book had me in splits. The grammar reminded me of stories from the “human digest” (badly written and very crude porn that we used to read in school).
The Kaileshwarnath temple was the last temple I visited at Kanchipuram. It is the only temple I saw that bore a sign from the Archeological society of India, declaring it a protected monument. There were not many devotees here, though there were a few tourists and wearing footwear into the temple seems to be alright. The sculptures here are mostly on sandstone and many of them reveal traces that indicate that they were once painted and colorful.
Back in my room I sit nursing a beer and thinking back about the beautiful things I had seen that day. My mind tries to do what we often see in movies when flashbacks come to focus - that tomorrow morning is festival day in golden town and tonight is one of calm excitement for the revelries that begin tomorrow…
- Karl Marx
“Life is ephemeral like the water on a lotus leaf. The entire world is devoured by sorrow and deceit; realize this now!” - This or something in a similar vein from the “Baja Govindam” is etched on one of the walls of the ‘Shankara Mutt’ at Kanchipuram in Tamilnadu. No one around seems to pay particular attention to this. They appear immersed in prayer, worrying about their own sorrows and probably seeking divine intervention rather than having thoughts of renouncing the world just then.
Kanchipuram is one of the 7 most sacred places of worship for the Hindus. I found myself in Kanchipuram enroute a whimsical ride from Bangalore to Chennai for the New Year’s. The ride itself had kept me in mighty good spirits by the time I reached Kanchipuram (despite a hitchhiker, I had given a ride to, who first wanted me to find him employment and later wanted me to pay him money to take a bus!). The beautiful roads had been a pleasure – stretching out for miles like a freshly laid carpet and just as inviting.
Reaching Kanchipuram fairly early and finding a nice little room in a hotel, I got out to explore the small town. Other than recently being in the news for the alleged murder committed by the current Shankaracharya and of course the ‘non-veg’ saris, I hardly knew anything about this place. Kanchipuram is steeped in history and tall temple towers are visible from most parts of the town in almost all directions. It struck me that most religious structures are tall – church steeples, Buddhist stupas, Egyptian/ Mayan temples, minarets of mosques, gopurams of hindu temples. Also, many places of worship are located on hills and high places – Mt.Abu, St Thomas Mt, Tirupati. Could this be so that the presiding temple would always be visible to most of the local populace and thereby induce the “fear of God” in them? I wonder if there is an anthropological explanation.
The first temple I entered was called the “Ulagalandha Perumal” (God who measured the earth *). It has got to do with the whole Mahabali story, but this version has Mahabali requesting the lord to leave his head peeking out of the ground. I strolled down to the “Kamakshi Amman” temple. Though I had my camera with me and cameras are strictly not allowed in the sanctum, the officer let me through (simple human decency so makes my day sometimes). I reciprocated by not taking any snaps. I then walked over to the “Shankar Mutt” where the earlier depressing quote from the “Baja Govindam” was etched on the wall. Another one said:”The hair is grey, the body is decrepit, the mouth is toothless, yet the old bag of desires moves on”. Now help me with this. The religion obviously condemns human desire and seems to especially in old age. But any day, I’d rather be a toothless Hugh Hefner, with desire to live on the moon than the guy waiting for deliverance into the supreme with nothing else occupying the mind. As I was leaving the mutt, a couple of musicians started tuning their instruments – a nadaswaram and a drum of some sort. I sat down beside them and watched. The performance began and the music began to fill the hall. The artist on the nadaswaram seemed to have lost himself in the music that he and the pipe created. Artist and instrument seemed an unbroken, lucid, uniform entity. The performance blew me to bits. The artist’s fervor and devotion in the form of his music entered my mind –at first seeping through and then in tumultuous barrage, bursting opening all doors -no mater how tightly locked. Something ridiculous bordering on funny happened at the mutt soon after. A female pachyderm- richly decorated – was paraded in front of a stone idol of one of the earlier Shankaracharyas - His Holiness Jagadguru Sri Chandra Shekharendra Saraswati(impressive huh?), I think. The priest gave the beast a fan and meanwhile the mahout started prodding the poor creature under her sensitive (I assume) thighs until she started fanning the idol. How proud is man of his superior intellect that makes him the master of all beasts, that can catch and tame a creature many times his size but I wonder if he will also look with contempt for such base use of the same intellect. Fanning an idol with an elephant! Give me a break.
I moved on to the “Ekambernath Temple” (Lord of the ‘one’ mango tree*). Easily the most impressive of the temples I had visited that day – both architecturally and historically. The temple dates to the pre-thousand A.Ds and had been built and rebuilt by the Kings of Chola and Pallava dynasty. Legend has it that a 3500 year old mango tree thrived there that had only 4 branches – each branch representing each veda. Each of the branches was supposed to yield mangoes of distinct flavor! All I saw was an old fallen tree and it surely had more than 4 branches. The temple has wonderful sculptured gargoyles and pillars along its corridors. A shiver ran down my spine when my hand brushed against a sculpture that is centuries old. I wonder about the hand that held it at while actually sculpting the piece – ephemeral life, maybe, but I think it’s worth it.
For Rs 5, I am permitted a special darshan and for Rs 15 I pick up a pamphlet called “The shrines of Kanchee”. I’m sure that humor was far away from the author’s mind when he wrote this, but the small book had me in splits. The grammar reminded me of stories from the “human digest” (badly written and very crude porn that we used to read in school).
The Kaileshwarnath temple was the last temple I visited at Kanchipuram. It is the only temple I saw that bore a sign from the Archeological society of India, declaring it a protected monument. There were not many devotees here, though there were a few tourists and wearing footwear into the temple seems to be alright. The sculptures here are mostly on sandstone and many of them reveal traces that indicate that they were once painted and colorful.
Back in my room I sit nursing a beer and thinking back about the beautiful things I had seen that day. My mind tries to do what we often see in movies when flashbacks come to focus - that tomorrow morning is festival day in golden town and tonight is one of calm excitement for the revelries that begin tomorrow…
