Narthamalai & Tanjore

Sometimes it just seems crazy for one to be willing to go see some unknown, how much you crave for some sort of escape from human company, and rush to obscure places searching, searching for something that you know can be disappointing, might not even be there, and could all be a wild goose chase, but you still persist for that one good snap.

NO, this one wasn’t it, though I do like the emotions, the deepness, the character displayed in the same, I was talking more on the likes of this one.

 OR, this one.....

Was browsing for ruins on the net (apparently those are the only places that seem to attract me anymore, a passion for the ancient if you will, my psychiatrist words it differently though) in South India and chanced upon this one called Narthamalai someplace off Trichy. So with nothing else to do on a Friday night, the ticket was booked at 7 p.m., and the bus was duly boarded at 11 pm (not without the usual running at the last minute to the moronically out of the way Koyumbedu bus stand, which has become a sort of tradition now). The sleeper (yes, there was enough space to lie down) made good time to reach Trichy at 6 in the morning, booked a room with the famous VijEy hotels (yes, the brandname is with an E). A shower and a couple of idlis later (I know, I would’ve preferred some paranthas cooked by mom, but beggars can’t be ……) was out asking around the bus stand for some place whose name most people gawked at. Well I had to ask for the bus to Pudukottai (I’ve become adept at finally pronouncing these names right now), and finally I was seated in the bus for the 45 minute ride. The weather gods were gentle, as there wasn’t much humidity in the air, and the sun shining bright. No perceptible signs of a bus stand are visible to announce the small town of N (don’t expect me to write that name again and again).

The small crossroad bus stand is one I’m familiar with a lot now. Just a couple of lonely souls standing here and there, a dainty corner shop, and small country roads branching out as an offshoot in either direction to the main road. To be fair, there was more than one shop here, and the country roads were laid with tarcoal, even a small sign announcing a Siva temple somewhere down the road. The path is dotted with Banyan trees, with the nice vines hanging out, reaching out for mother earth.

 In the horizon through the trees one can see the various hillocks, nice hiking spot no doubt, easy slopes that a novice can traverse without breaking too much sweat. The small paths through the shrubbery are quite inviting, but in an unknown land, I prefer to stick to the main path. After a 2-2.5 km walk, there’s still no trace of the hill I was looking for; I decided to let go of the male ego (sacrilege, I know) which had hitherto stuck to its own superior sense of navigation based on the intensive study of the area on google maps (5 whole minutes to be precise) and approached the locals. Now, its never easy when you don’t know the local language, & harder still when you don’t really remember the exact name of the site you wish to visit (Vijayalaya Choleeswaram temple, you can see how it want easy for me to remember this one). Having satisfied both these necessary conditions, I proceeded to the usual dance of awkward 2 minutes of English-Tamil, complete with elaborate hand gestures and human emotions ranging from frustration to helplessness. 

I carried on the path I had seen already, and sure enough, there is the temple ruin hiding behind the gentle slope. The hilltop is no more than 200-300 meters long, but if you have stayed as well in shape as me, then you’d be huffing in the sun as well. The layered rocks are a treat to walk on, and with not a soul in sight (something tells me not many people come here), the land is for me to conquer easily. The wind is thankfully blowing, and already filled up with a couple of bottles of water, the going is easy.The base of the hill is laced with a few haystacks, reminding one that he is in the Indian countryside, a countryside where almost every thatched roof I looked at had a dish antenna, but the countryside nonetheless. On the walk up, you can also see the lotus pond, probably looks better when it’s raining, but the lotuses are still there. 

Midway through to the hilltop, there’s this small rectangular structure housing a small Ganesha statue. Beside this are small depressions in the hill which are filled with water, even without much rain. 

Incidentally, had seen a few pics on the net which showed the expanse before the hill occupied by a nice big lake, but in this weather all I see is a comparatively little watering hole, with the goats enjoying their bath. Was tempted to join the beasts, but the lure of the partially hidden ruins was just too good to resist. 

Once the rock formation slopes down a bit to the other side, you get the first full glimpse of this architectural beauty. Fine, it might not be as majestic as some others, neither is the artwork something over which wars would be fought, but it has something that simply cannot be described; nestled in a small pocket of the hill, it just gels in so beautifully with the surroundings, the stones on the temple mimicking the color of the hill like a silent chameleon over the ages, sitting mute right there, withering away with time.

Not a soul in sight I sat there to catch my breath, under the shade of the temple. Sadly its locked up, so all you can see is the façade, the Shiva cave in front is also locked up. Nice of them though to put out some of the statue remains, some looking like a weird sphinx, others just rows of animals I can’t really describe. The main structure of the temple is surrounded with 8 smaller shrines, and a nandi to boost. 

Most of them empty, with the lone diya inside suggesting someone once in a while comes in and still offers homage to the deity. The poor temple has probably seen better days, but like most other places of old, its succumbing to the elements. The notice from the ASI does mention some work being done to restore it, but that's just what it would be RE-store, not preserve.

The wall partition on the outside overlooks the side of the hill, and provides a nice vantage point, sit here and gaze into the horizon for hours on end. Just a stones throw away are the other hillocks of the region, and the lazy slope of every one of them seems easy enough for even a novice to traverse. Have to try out all of these hills another day, maybe one that does not leave sunburns on my skin! The best part is to sit atop one of these hills, the one that has almost a vertical fall on one side, now that is a view.

Now that the temple complex had been explored, I soldiered on to get to the top of the hill, and rightly so. The top of the hill provides one with a really nice shot of the entire temple complex, have always been a fan of the aerial shots that can provide a view from the top, take in the entire scene in one full swoop, and not just the side profile of it. 

After a couple of shots from the top, headed down to base, stopping by here and there to horse around. The vegetation consisted of a lot cacti, big ones rather, and clicked one with a  human being for the perspective.The walk down wasn't that bad either, it was the walk back to the bus stop, filled with some stops to look at the local shops, and a lot of hydration. 

A couple of hours, a quick meal, a shower, and 2 bus rides later I landed up at Tanjore. This place wasn't really on my wish list, but had heard a lot of the big temple, and so decided to visit it as well. Well, the Brihadeeswarar Temple, or the big temple as it’s called did not disappoint. It was massive, with the conical shaped high rises making up for some pleasant viewing. Supposedly, it’s the biggest temple in India, and together with the other 2 Chola temples at Darasuram and Gangaikonda Cholapuram, makes up ‘the great living Chola temples’. 

The temple, made of Granite, is indeed a treat, there’s nothing too great in the sculptures in terms of artwork methinks, but it’s this simplicity on such a grand scale which seems to mesmerize one. The only harrowing ordeal was when I decided to visit the main statue as well – a huge Shiva ling (not to hurt the religious sentiments of anyone, but as a good friend of mine describes it “its just a d***”). That turned out to be 20 minutes of standing in a cramped column, sweating profusely with hundreds of devotees packed together shoulder to shoulder, and moving at a snails pace inside the not ventilated rooms.

With the experience over (I’m not a fan of the religious sites, or the activities) I switched over my attention to the murals on the inner side of the outer wall. The wall is lined with Shiva lings – all of which seem just a bit different, some a bit more circular than the others, but the paintings are the ones that catch my attention- though most of them are crumbling away from the walls, they still retain enough of their earlier glory, letting the passerby know that once the artists took pride in their work. I can’t really decipher the sequence of events that these paintings depict, to me they are just remnants of an era when man had faith, and probably also an imagination that should put the avatars and the likes to shame.

The outer wall of the main sanctum is peppered with different dance poses (Bharathanatyam, Wikipedia tells me), and details the pains that were taken to carve it out on the Granite.The smaller Ganesha shrine is another one not to be missed, well, there are quite a few other sculpted delights here, so just posting the snaps. The Nandi at the entrance is also carved out of a single stone, and the dark shade of stone shine out nicely in the late noon sun.

It was quite difficult to take in a photo of the entire main shrine without the hordes coming in the way, but I did manage to sneak in a couple with minimal human intervention, and as always a couple with the sun in the background providing the silhouette. 

With a nice set of snaps in the bag and a splitting headache from the heat, I’d say that was one hell of a way to spend a weekend.