Hampi - A Confluence of the Gross and the Subtle

It began like any other trip. "Should we go to place A or B?" My husband asked me and after weighing pros and cons, we decided it would be Hampi - never mind if it was A or B. As always, I packed the most essential - a book. Colleen Mccullough's 'Antony and Cleopatra' - a well-written, big fat book that I was half-way through already. And along with that came a bonus - 'Lectures on the Ramayana' by Sri VS Srinivasa Sastri. 

The only thing I knew about Hampi was that it was part of the Vijayanagara Empire, famous because of King Krishnadevaraya and his minister, Tenali Rama, whose stories of wit we had grown up listening to. I like the destination to reveal its beauty to me slowly rather than guzzle on all that is available on the Internet beforehand and prepare as if about to appear for an examination. Of course, my husband has to do the reading as he plans the itinerary, so I literally sit back and enjoy.

The first day we reached there, we were told we could visit a Durga temple on a hillock, the Vali-Sugriva cave close by and then climb up nearly 600 steps to reach a Hanuman temple.

Vali-Sugriva cave? That quickened my pulse and I started realising that this was not merely of historical interest but dated back even to ancient times, to another Yuga. 

We were staying in Hospet but as we crossed into Hampi, it was all farmlands, rocky hills and water bodies. There were long stretches when we saw no one. Canals cut across the land, irrigating and providing water to the locals.

Our first destination, the Durga temple, was closed because of leopards having been spotted in the hills. Vali cave had been closed for a month, apparently. I was definitely disappointed.

So we reached Anjandri which housed the Hanuman temple. The number of steps was a little daunting, more so because here too the authorities - represented by the security - mentioned that the temple would close by 3. It was 3.30 at that time. But he said, "You can go up. Take the gap next to the closed gate to reach the stairs(!)." Though I pointed out the time to him, he reassured me that the temple would be open if we went up fast. 

I was sceptical but my family decided to give it a try. A few years ago, I was writing a coffee table book by interviewing Vedic scholars on the value of Vedic education. I fixed a meeting with one gentleman who was himself not a scholar but was running a Veda Pathashala. I told him, as I did for corporate appointments, that I would be there sharp at the time specified. But every time I mentioned it, he would say, "No issues. I am here. You can come any time later too." I often think of this and wonder about the olden days when time was not measured in seconds. Did they miss out on anything, or in the rush to make the most of time, we are missing out on something?

However, these thoughts did not reassure me. "If we climb and find the temple closed, we may not be able to revisit this place. Let's give it a miss today and return tomorrow," I tried to plead but the kids were enthusiastic and the husband willing. It was not an easy climb due to the varying height of the steps and the winding staircase, and the quick pace didn't help, but made it, albeit huffing and puffing! The temple, as the security had promised, was open.

What an experience! To imagine standing in the very place Hanuman had incarnated two yugas ago! The visit to this point was so unexpected that I felt quite overwhelmed. Though there was a crowd around, I was back to a time when this was uninhabited by humans and Anjana delivered the baby boy in peace and watched him grow with love and affection.

When we returned to the room and I started reading the lectures after freshening up, I felt goosebumps. The lectures do not discuss Ramayana chronologically but is a study of characters. Kishkindha finds mention right upfront though in the epic it comes much later. 

The next day, we visited places with more recent works including a Hazararama temple which has carvings depicting the complete Ramayana on the walls. There was a Kothandarama temple that we skipped since the children were tired. I didn't think I would be going back. We visited a Vittala temple at dusk and it was another timeless moment. As I came out and looked back at the temple tower, standing still, bathed in the light from the setting sun, it looked immanent and our life so ephemeral in contrast. 

Every inch I covered in Hampi had been covered by Lord Rama and Hanuman had grown up in these surroundings, climbing these rocky hills with ease. So when on the third day we had time, I thought of visiting the Kothandarama temple. One of the meditation techniques delineated in the book, 'The Book of Secrets' by Osho, a discourse on Vigyan Bhairav Tantra, Osho mentions that to drop from mind to heart, we should intone one sound and that sound should be something we love, something that creates a sound womb. And as an instance, he takes the chant 'Ram' and why many of us feel that it resonates with us. I am no different. It is like going home and sleeping on the most comfortable bed. So, that was the first temptation to visit this temple. 

The second was because it was on the banks of Tungabhadra. What is it about waterbodies? Noisy or quiet, why do they tug at our hearts? There is something so pristine about water as if it introduces us to our own selves if only we could sit by it for a while quietly.     

We took yet another scenic walk and reached the temple. What a blessing, not only because it was Rama but because though the temple structure was constructed during the Vijayanagara period, the idol itself was apparently from Treta yuga, when Sugriva got this carved. It is he and not Hanuman who is next to the divine trio, something never seen anywhere else.

After this, we headed for Malayavantha Raghunatha temple. I had no expectations, I felt so sated with this temple.

eSha phulla arjunaH shailaH ketakaiH adhivaasitaH |
sugriiva iva shaanta ariH dhaaraabhiH abhiShicyate || 3-28-9

"This mountain with fully bloomed Arjuna flowers, further fragranced by Ketaka flowers is being anointed with downpours on a par with Sugreeva, who is anointed when his enemy is silenced. [3-28-9]

These lines from Kishkindha Kanda in Ramayana are spoken by Rama and I was there, in the cave Lord Rama had stayed for four months waiting for the rains to stop to resume the search for Sita. Rama is sitting as in dhyana without his bow and arrow, Lakshmana next to him with his hands joined in reverence, also without the characteristic weapons. Hanuman, who is usually bowing, is depicted with his hands open, displaying the chudamani Sita gave him to be shown to Rama as proof that he had met her. Right behind this cave, on a higher plane is a small temple with a Linga installed, consecrated and worshipped by Rama. For both the caves, the Vijayanagara rulers built a temple.

That evening, I was reading the passage where Rama expresses agony at Sugriva delaying the resumption of the quest and Lakshmana getting incensed as a result. Rama realises the effect his mood has had on his easily-provoked brother and quickly regains control. But Lakshmana is not so easily pacified and walks through these very forests, breaking a twig here, kicking a pebble there...

However beautiful a monument may be, however great a vacation, I have seldom felt the need to go back. But this time, I can say, the thirst to return is severe. And when I return, it is not to run from monument to monument, but to sit back and take in the silence, the beauty and the eternity it represents.

 I also hope that the need for economic development does not lead to these rocky hills being quarried and destroyed. As if to remind me that that possibility very much exists, we saw a heavily quarried and defaced hill on the way back home. Well, even stones are not here permanently. Our presence is even shorter. Yet we try to create permanent relics and try to live forever. What will sustain, though, is if we make a place in the hearts of the people so that they speak of us in times to come. Be it Lord Rama or King Krishnadevaraya, that is what makes them immortal.