9th century A.D. Chola Temple

on a very hot sunday morning, after a long stint at the 'school of ancient wisdom' (more about that in another post), we headed out to nandi hills. the countryside flickered by as we were tossed up and down enroute to the base. vineyards with hawkers selling some very big grapes out of season; large, rather gaudy and hence unsightly ganesha statues being decked out for the upcoming festival; the occasional bullock cart overladen with hay; a mangled unrecognizable vehicle lying in a heap beside an unmanned railway crossing (one can only guess what might have transpired); and then suddenly, a sharp right turn and the little village with carved stone bearing mute testament to Chola history in the form of a very interesting old temple dedicated to bhoganandishwara.

2 shrines side by side, an entertainment courtyard (used for marriages -- a kalyana mantapa) and a traditional bath (seen here, added to the temple in the 15th century) all made for a glimpse back in time. step in here and the self disappears as the surroundings come alive. cold, cool stone carved into all types of deities, demons and gate keepers; a carved spout that could be an alligator, elephant or human depending on your angle of view; a large ratha (or carved carriage) in monolithic stone; pillars and the floor bearing inscriptions in tamil; several columns and seated bulls (nandi) playing with light beams and yes, veshti-clad purohits (priests) going about business as usual, performing aartis (the meaning of this word -- and my name -- in another post) and reciting mantras peppered with nakshatras, rashis and gothras -- eagerly supplied by the devotees.

as i walked around through door after door into the stepped bath area, i suddenly remembered another time and another place that had made me feel like i was in another era -- chittorgarh. the stone floor and sheer carved walls here had that same quality of speaking as did the palace of padmini. shaking off the distraction, i walked around the bath taking in the surroundings (including clumps of hair lying in corners, no doubt the 'offerings' of unsuspecting 1 year-olds and eager, irrational parents) and wishing that the guy yelling to me 'take picture from here' would fly away. the quickest way to achieve that result seemed to be 'yes, but first from here.' after which either my mind never heard him, or he did evaporate.

and equally incongruously and almost intruding on this play of time, was a loudspeaker blaring from the surrounding nandi village. still, the mind is a wonderful thing with only the best memories frothing up, resolving the ambivalence. i have to go back there.