India travel | Travel Thru History

Rishikesh, India: Neelkanth Mahadev Temple

Rendezvous with Blue-Throat

by Nayna Chakrabarty

My mission was not a covert operation. It was supposed to take place in an open arena, thronged with people. “The exchange has to take place from within” were the explicit orders. And I had given my word. Backing out would be – Let’s not get into that. Before I get into the details of this mission, let me fill you in with some background.

My brush with India was at a superficial level. The world perceives India as a mystical nation-a country of snake charmers, yogis and spicy food. But in this cauldron of various cultures, languages and traditions lies deep within a connection with spirituality. The source of Hindu beliefs goes back centuries where sages wrote down the real Hindu way of life. It’s true; not all Hindus today follow the original doctrine but its tainted versions which are disillusioned with glittering, neon lights of modern thinking.

Truly, the outsiders find Hinduism confusing and often wonder “Is there something that these people don’t pray to?” They have thirty-three million gods and goddesses and still know how each should be revered. Temples of India are the gateway of preserving and understanding the real culture. Their temples are not just monuments defined by a dynasty to show off its grandeur but each has a history that is dedicated and honored to various deities.

Another unique feature of Hindu temples are that many of them do not house man-made idols but they have been formed because God came down on earth. Pure devotion and earnest chantings of devotees had melted the Lord’s heart. He was forced to descend and left his essence behind which have been made into places of worship.

The meeting place for this mission was going to be in one such temple located in Rishikesh, Uttaranchal, India. Lord Shiva, the lord of destruction resides here. He is one of the trinity of gods which defines the Hindu Dharma. Lord Shiva is easily pleased by slightest of devoutness and reverence. He cannot see his devotees suffer and this is the reason behind this temple’s origin.

Several epochs ago, the churning of the ocean, Samudra Manthan was much needed to derive the divine nectar or ambrosia. As the churning started, mystical beings began to surface like Kamadhenu, the wish-fulfilling cow; Kaustubhamani, a rare gemstone; Kalpavriksha, the wish-fulfilling tree and many other heavenly objects. Suddenly, a poison called Halahal was hurled out. The gods were distressed. The magnitude of this poison was tremendous. If it was not controlled then it would destroy mankind. Lord Shiva resolved this crisis. He drank it.

He did not swallow it but let it remain in his throat. The powerful venom turned his throat blue. The Lord Shiva came to Rishikesh to rest. Several gods tried to cool off the strong aftermath of the poison and finally decided to pour water on his head. This is one of the reasons why devotees even today, offer water to the Lord as a part of their worship.

After several years of rest and meditation, Lord Shiva took out the poison from his throat, left it on the mountain and returned to his abode, Mount Kailash (above), in the Himalayas. A temple was constructed around this and became popular as Neelkanth Mahadev. Neel means the color blue, Kanth is throat and Mahadev denotes Shiva as the Lord of the gods.

The road to my rendezvous point is a mountainous height of 1675 meters. One side is high terrain and on the other is a steep drop into the pristine waters of the holy Ganges. Mortals who die here have a confirmed ticket to heaven.

I will drive to the temple, a scenic 32 kilometers. from Rishikesh via Barrage. As I approach my destination, tranquility embraces me; the gentle breeze comforts, and the gurgling, splashing sound of the river slows my heartbeats. The meaning of peace dawns into my being.

In the car park colorfully decorated stalls sell offerings for the deity. My offering plate consists of a sealed plastic glass of water from the Ganges, a box of incense, assorted white flowers, fruits like jujube and Dhatura (a thorny fruit), small piece of red veil with golden border and a photograph of Lord Shiva with the backdrop of the temple.

The approach to the temple is tunnel-like with narrow corridors lined with shops selling souvenirs like statues of various gods and goddesses, Rudrasha beads, and crystal necklaces.

The architecture of the temple is divine. The entire structure is layered with brightly colored idols which explain the legend of Lord Shiva. The gods are immaculately portrayed in the churning of the ocean and in the centre is Lord Shiva.

I join the queue and make my way to the inner sanctum. A life-sized idol of Shiva’s consort, goddess Parvati seated in her grandeur is placed near the entrance. Other devotees waited patiently, chanting the Lord’s name in unison. As I walk further inside, the air became cooler and its stillness gave instant gratification to my soul. The arena around the lingam (the symbol for the worship of Lord Shiva) is inlaid with marble. Intricately detailed etchings on the columns depict the guards or Dwarpals, standing tall with their weapons. Facing the Lord is his mount Nandi, the bull.

Finally, it is my turn to make my offerings. The lingam is encased in silver with an opening at the top so that it can be viewed. I pour the holy water and sit in awe.

I am really here, face to face, so close. Unbelievable.

The priest seated at the sanctum chants holy mantras and helps me complete my worship in the prescribed Vedic manner. He touches the photograph to the Lord’s form and gives it back to me as a blessing.

Behind the sanctum, is a Ficus Religiosa tree colloquially known as the Pipal tree. It is the oldest depicted tree in Indian art and literature. This is known as ‘World Tree’ or the ‘Tree Of Life.’ The roots are long and gangly, like veins combing out of a wrinkled skin. If only this ancient tree could talk it could unfold unfathomable mysteries.

The blessed photograph of Lord Shiva now stands on my mantle. Every time I see it, the grandeur of Neelkanth Mahadev flashes in front of my eyes. I truly believe that if we are sincere in our devotion, then the Lord allows us to come to such places of pilgrimage where we are able to experience the vibrations of his essence and derive the ability to enjoy eternal bliss. My mission has been a success.

Holy Tour To Kailash for 17 Days

If You Go:

The easiest access to Rishikesh is from Delhi. There are daily direct flights to Delhi from every city of India. From Delhi there are two options-by road or by train. If you travel by road, it takes around seven hours or more depending on the traffic. But this is the scenic route. There are two trains from Delhi, one in the morning and one in the afternoon which takes you to Haridwar. From Haridwar, it is around 45 minutes by road to Rishikesh. Taxis are readily available from Haridwar station to Rishikesh.

Private Tour: Ganga Aarti Hindu Ritual in Rishikesh Including Dinner
Rishikesh Private Spiritual Tour Including Lunch
Rishikesh Himalaya Tour Explore the Shiva Temple

About the author:
Nayna Chakrabarty’s writing is influenced by her experiences of travel, curiosity about the paranormal, fascination for adventure sports and illustrious legends. The desire to bring all of these experiences, intertwined into readable experiences, culminated in the publication of her past literary works. Her blog http://nayna.in/blog is a sneak preview of some of the unknown depths to which the human mind can delve into.

Photo credits:
Lord Shiva by Harikrishnan Mangayil from Pixabay
Mount Kailash by Jean-Marie Hullot / CC BY-SA
All other photos by Nayna Chakrabarty.

The Stunning Caves of Ajanta and Ellora

Aurangabad, Maharashtra, India

by Margaret Deefholts

Modern India preens itself as a slick, techno-savvy nation confidently brokering deals on international markets, and racing at top speed along the electronic superhighway. Its cities throb to the beat of Indo-jazz and its glamorous models strut the fashion runway in Bollywood style bling.

But beneath this sophisticated veneer lies another less strident India. One which has endured for centuries—a world of spiritual beliefs and mythology celebrated in an exuberance of cave paintings and temple monuments, spread across the subcontinent.

Just a couple of hours drive out of the busy town of Aurangabad (in the state of Maharashtra), I stand on a high bluff, looking down at a horseshoe shaped basalt cliff pockmarked with entrances to 29 caves (above). Ant-sized people crawl along a paved pathway and in the ravine far below, the Waghur river snakes through the jungle foliage. These are the Buddhist caves of Ajanta, built between 200 B.C. and 650 A.D. Lost to the world until 1819, it was a British Army officer, John Smith, who stumbled on them while on a hunting expedition in the area.

It is a sunny, but pleasantly cool weekend in mid-November when my guide Amod and I arrive at the Ajanta Tourist complex. The area is swarming with Indian holiday-makers—with just a few foreigners in their midst. En route to the spotlessly clean modern ticket office and bus depot, I shrug aside persistent touts selling garish postcards and Bollywood music CDs, but am sorely tempted to linger in a small craft bazaar with stalls displaying bright Indian shawls and readymade garments, jewellery, leather handbags and attractive curios. But time is of the essence so I hurry on.

To keep air pollution to the minimum, no private vehicles are allowed beyond this area. A green bus powered by natural gas, pants to a halt at the depot. A crowd materializes elbowing me aside as they claw and shove their way into the vehicle. I look at Amod and shrug as the bus lumbers out, packed to the rafters with babbling, excited Indians. He grins. “Leave it to me—I’ll get you onto the next one!” He’s as good as his word. He fights to the front of the seething mass of passengers, sits himself down and reserves a spot for me on the seat next to him. Getting off the bus at the foot of the caves, we walk through a landscaped garden rich with bougainvillea creepers and the scent of frangipani blossoms (above).

AJANTA CAVES

As I stand in the shadowy interior of the first cave, I’m reduced to stunned awe. The walls of the hall are a riot of murals that have endured in varying degrees of preservation over the millennia. At the far end of the room a statue of a benevolent Buddha gazes down at visitors. I’m riveted by what is probably the most photographed image in Ajanta, a painting of Bodhisattva Padmapani (left). The elegant prince, bedecked with pearls, holds an open lotus, signifying the awakening of the mystical inner self. With his golden skin, gentle smile and dreamy almond shaped eyes, he radiates a timeless serenity.

The word “buddha” means awakening (to enlightenment) and the Bodhisattvas whose images throng the walls of Ajanta’s caves are those aspiring to attain Buddhahood. Prince Siddharath Gautam, who achieved full spiritual enlightenment in the 6th century B.C. is the founder of Buddhism, and these caves were once inhabited by thousands of monks seeking to follow his eight-fold path of righteousness. Five of Ajanta’s caves were prayer or assembly halls enclosing stupas (symbolic representations of the Buddha); the rest were halls of residence. Buddhists, Jains and Hindus lived in harmony back then, and a great majority of Ajanta’s artistic masterpieces were created by under the patronage of a Hindu king Harishena who lived in the 5th century A.D.

The murals are painted with red, yellow and brown pigments derived from vegetable dyes and from powdered stones such as blue lapis lazuli. Unfortunately many of them are chipped and peeling, ravaged by time and weather. Yet for all that they rivet the eye. Mythical tales, unfurl across the walls, the scenes seething with movement and colour; royal processions of elephants and horses and oxen drawn carts, common folks in everyday attire, beautiful women, languorous lovers and stalwart warriors. The details are exquisite—the sheen of tiny pearls adorning a princess, and ceilings chequered with intricate flower motifs, birds and geometrical designs.

Above the confusion of people milling through the cave, and the chatter of a group of school children, Amod asks, “Can you guess how the artists would have created such beauty, working in these dark caves?” I shake my head. He fishes out a small mirror from his jacket pocket. “They used these,” he says. “Large mirrors were angled to reflect the sunlight pouring into the entrance of the caves.”

Even more astonishing is the fact that several caves were scooped out of the rock with hand held tools, working from the ceiling downwards. In the process, sculptors created free standing larger-than-life sized images of Buddha and detailed bas-relief friezes of worshippers and attendants along the walls.

On the twisting road heading back to the plains, Amod points out a site where a replica of the Ajanta caves is under construction. When completed in a year or two, it will offer cheap tickets for those who merely want to bring their families to romp through the pseudo caves and frolic around in a park setting. The result? Reduced traffic and environmental damage to the ancient site, and an opportunity for genuinely interested visitors to enjoy these extraordinary murals in an uncrowded, tranquil setting.

ELLORA CAVES

Not far from Ajanta, and about 30 km out of Aurangabad is another series of 34 man-made caves excavated from the rock face of the Charanandri hills. They came into existence between the 5th and 10th centuries AD, and although they bear little resemblance to Ajanta’s murals, they are no less astounding.

The caves, 12 of them Buddhist, 17 Hindu and 5 Jain, sprawl over a large area. It takes the better part of day to cover all of them on foot. Amod accompanies me to two of the Buddhist caves, and saves the third, the Hindu Kailasa temple, as the pièce de résistance of the tour. A balmy breeze kicks up small dust devils as we trudge past a series of dormitory caves used by the resident monks, and approach the Kailasa temple, courtyard. The entrance appears to be a modest portal flanked by two large stone elephants.

Amod watches me intently as we emerge onto the inner courtyard, and his face breaks into a huge grin, as my jaw literally drops. India’s wealth of temple carvings, dazzling as they may be, are so ubiquitous that after a while, one tends to become blasé. However, I’d defy even the most jaded traveller to be unimpressed by the extraordinary grandeur of the Kailasa Temple.

Imagine, if you will, over 7000 labourers excavating over 200,000 tons of rock face, with nothing more than hand held tools, to carve from the top down, a monumental central edifice 100 feet high, flanked by 60-foot free-standing pillars and huge elephants. The entire complex is perfectly symmetrical, so the 8th century architect would have planned its layout down to the last mathematical detail even before a single hammer hit virgin rock. It is a feat of engineering unequalled in India before or since. Not surprisingly it took 150 years to complete.

The Kailasa temple (right) is dedicated to the Hindu god Shiva whose abode in the high Himalayas is at Mount Kailash. Designed to resemble a chariot, the temple is in three parts: a dome-shaped sanctum enshrining a Shiva lingam (a phallus shaped stone symbolizing Shiva’s power), the main temple which is a large pillared hall, surmounted by four rampant lions, and a secondary smaller temple just above the main entrance.

I shade my eyes against the sun and crane my neck to look at the outer walls soaring three floors above me. Larger than life sized statues of gods stand sentinel on each corner of the main temple; every inch of the lower section is banded horizontally with rows of bas-relief figures taken from the great Indian epics, the Mahabharata and Ramayana. No room for error here as stone-masons and sculptors would have chiselled into rock face working from the top of the temple downwards to plinth level. Corridors are hewn into the hillside and flank a pedestrian corridor at ground level, but as Amod and I approach the back of the temple, we are dwarfed by an enormous rock overhang. It is squared away but remains an unsupported part of the parent cliff, and I can’t but feel a queasy sensation as I walk below it.

On our way out a little girl steps forward shyly and offers me a marigold flower. Her parents beam, and Amod takes a picture of me standing with the family. Behind us, sitting in the lotus position and tended by adoring elephants, is a large stone sculpture of Gajalakshmi, the goddess of wealth. She is a fitting symbol for the rich historic treasures of both Ajanta and Ellora.

If You Go:

Aurangabad Tours:

Aurangabad Private Tour: Ajanta And Ellora Caves Sightseeing Day Tour
Aurangabad Private 3-Day Tour with the Ajanta and Ellora Caves
Buddhist Caves of Ajanta Ellora
A Visit to the Fascinating Ellora Caves from Aurangabad
UNESCO’s Ajanta And Ellora Caves – A Two Night Heritage Immersion From Aurangabad With Private Transfers

Aurangabad: Accessible by air from Mumbai (45 minutes) and Delhi (3-1/2 hours). The 7-hour journey on board the air-conditioned chair-car on the Tapovan Express from Mumbai costs $10 and arrives mid afternoon. Where to Stay: $75 – $120 price range: The Taj Residency, the Hotel Ambassador Ajanta and Quality Inn The Meadows offer the best in comfort and amenities, but aren’t up to ultra luxurious standards.

Ajanta: Group, or individual tours to Ajanta (about 2 – 3 hours drive from Aurangabad) can be arranged at hotel travel desks, or through the India Tourism Development Corporation office in Aurangabad. Entry to Ajanta costs around $5. A private car and driver may be hired for the day at a cost of roughly $30. Private vehicles are not permitted beyond the Ajanta Tourist Complex; instead affordably priced “green” (natural gas) shuttle buses ply to and from the caves. There is a fair amount of climbing involved, but those unable to tackle several flights of steps may use the services of porters who carry people up in sedans. Negotiate rates ahead of time, and expect to pay around $12+ for four hours. Flash photography isn’t permitted and shoes need to be removed before entering some caves. The caves are very crowded on weekends and school holidays, and closed on Mondays.

Ellora: The Ellora caves are only 30 km from Aurangabad, but if covering all the caves, which are rather spread out, visitors are advised to hire a car and driver for the day. Entry costs $5.00. Ellora is closed on Tuesdays.

About the author:
Margaret Deefholts is an author (“Haunting India”) and an award-winning freelance travel writer and photographer. She is editor of Travel Writers’ Tales and a member of Travel Media Association of Canada and the B.C. Association of Travel Writers. While much of her focus is on the Indian subcontinent, she also writes about her adventures in Britain, Europe, Australia, the U.S. and Canada.
Web Site: http://www.margaretdeefholts-journeys.com
Contact: margaret.journeys@gmail.com

Photo credits:
First Ellora caves photo by VgBingi from Pixabay
All other photos are by Margaret Deefholts.

Kodungallur, Dilapidated Glory of an Ancient Port

Kerala, India

by Arun Bhatia

I am in Kerala, the southern coast of India, at a port called Kodungallur. The Brits in their 150 years of colonial dominance here till 1947, couldn’t pronounce Kodangallur and came as close to the name as their thick tongues would allow by calling it Cranganore. Apostle Thomas had landed at Kodungallur in 52 A.D., soon after the death of Christ.

My visit is more recent and I have come by a rickety government bus. I learn that Saint Thomas’ wrist bone [TOP PHOTO] is enshrined here in the Mar Thoma Pontifical Shrine, with its crescent of colonnades in front. A large statue depicts the moment when Thomas acknowledged Christ rising and was then no longer called “Doubting Thomas.”

Kodungallar is almost an island attached to the mainland, with the Arabian Sea to the west. To the north and south, there are the mouths of rivers Chetval and Azhikode, and to the east are the charming backwaters. Kodungallur is not on any tourist map but boasts of India’s oldest mosque and an ancient church – both of which look like Hindu temples and both, alas, in near ruins. The Portuguese had ruled here, and their fort, known as Kothapuram, is quite derelict. This town’s is indeed, the dilapidated glory of a truly ancient port.

The 3rd century B.C. Hindu Emperor Asoka’s edicts mention the local dynasty of the Cheras. The first century Roman traveler, Pliny, talked of it as the primium emporium Indae (the first emporium in India) and how it was a sprawling urban complex with trade links to the great empires of the epoch – Abbasid Baghdad, Byzantine Constantinople, the Holy Roman Empire, Moorish Cordova, Tang China, Cambodia and Sumatra.

It is called Kodungallur now, but was the ancient city of Vanji. The Greeks called it Muziris. It was mentioned in the Periplus of the Erythraean Sea, the first century B.C. work on navigation. Hindu sage Valmiki’s annal, the Ramayana, refers to this place as Murachi. Tamil poets of the Sangam period (first five centuries of Christian era) talked of Muchiris, where “beautiful ships… bringing gold come, splashing the white foam in the waters of the Periyar… and return laden with pepper.” Apostle Thomas landed here in 52 A.D. The Jews came in 69 A.D. after the fall of Jerusalem. The first Muslims reached India by sea here, and Malik-ibn-Dinar, the missionary who introduced Islam to Kerala, built India’s first mosque here. This Chera empire capital fell in 1012 after a massive three decade attack by the great Chola emperor Raja Raja.

I find that almost all “sights” require imagination because they have withered due to time, conquests, neglect or all three. For instance, Cheraman Perumal, legendary Kerala king who converted to Islam, had a palace but the site has a few broken columns on open ground. The Cheraman Juma mosque, two km north of Kodungallur and located on National Highway 17 is a 7th century edifice, the first one in India. It was rebuilt in the 16th century and looks like a Kerala Hindu temple as the outer walls rise from a tiered base. Only its wooden interior is intact. A large Kerala oil lamp is in the centre, to which Muslims, Christians and Hindus all bring oil on major family events. Women are not allowed inside but the imam (priest) shows male visitors like me around.

On the highway heavy with traffic, I walk half a kilometer south of the ancient mosque, past multi-staged lamps, to the Shiva temple at Thirvanchikulam. It has a majestic gateway, carvings of elephants, deities, gods and goddesses and a majestic Nandi bull, upon which Shiva rides.

It is the Kali temple about which I had heard so much that had attracted me here. It is in the middle of town, on open ground of seven acres. A typical ancient Kerala temple, it has the majestic awe-inspiring idol of Kurumba Bhagwati (Kali), six feet in height, made from a single trunk of jack fruit tree. With gold ornaments, a Kathakali like crown, a mask, eight arms with weapons and symbols, it is in sitting posture with a crimson cloth below the waist. The aspect is when Kali had killed the demon Daruka. There is a secret chamber all shrouded in mystery with an underground passage. I learn that a curious roof-repairing carpenter once peeped inside and became blind. Since then, no one dares probe it. It is plain scary. Anthropologists speculate that it is a megalith containing material remains of the dead.

Talpoli and Bharani are the two main festivals here. The former starts on Makara Sankranti (around January 14) with colour and joy. Bharani (March-April), however, is a grotesque festival with devotees getting drunk, singing sexually explicit songs about the goddess, which she is supposed to like. Offbeat legends are told as origins of the Bharani festival. But the goings on offend many other Keralites. Chickens in hundreds were sacrificed with the temple site looking gory, but that practice has been mercifully stopped.

Near a deepasthambha (lamp) mounted on a kurma (tortoise incarnation of god Vishnu), there is a scale that is used for those wanting to weigh themselves against bananas and offer their body-weight quantity as prasadam offering, which is later auctioned to yield to the temple kitty. It is also where the secret passage is supposed to be. I see a toddler cry as her head is being tonsured in a ritual there.

Some day when I work up enough courage, I will visit Kodungallur again to peep inside that secret chamber with an underground passage, to find out if it is really a megalith with remains of the dead.

Cochin Shore Excursion Private Tour- Kerala Houseboat Trip with Private Vehicle

More Information:

Kodungallur is 35 km from well-know port of Cochin. Cochin is well connected by rail, road, sea and air. Regular Cochin-Kodungallur buses are available.
Hotel Indraprastham has a modest restaurant, an air-conditioned restaurant and bar.
Kodungallur Wikipedia page

Cochin Tours Now Available:
Cochin City Tour
Sunrise Backwater boat Cruise at Cochin and Breakfast with Local Family
Private Tour of Jewish Synagogues in Cochin

About the author:
Arun Bhatia has been freelance writing since 1952 as 17-year old freshman at University of California at Los Angeles (U.C.L.A), where he contributed to the campus paper and since then has contributed to English and Hindi dailies and monthlies in India on travel, ecology, restaurants, humor, book reviews, interviews, drama reviews.

Photo credits:
Thomasreliquiar Kondungallur – Wrist bone relic of St. Thomas by Joachim Specht / CC0
All other photos are by Arun Bhatia.