Home UpCauvery Temples 1. Ranganatha
The largest of India’s temples boasts the tallest gopuram. It may look old, but it was completed in 1987.
The artist signs his work.
There’s a lot to take care of.
The temple’s setting or framing is a little rough.
The faithful don’t object. Then again, how often do Americans notice, let alone object, to the commercial junk alongside suburban arterials?
The center of the passage leading through a gopuram has vestibules or recessed entrances to stairs leading up into the largely hollow brick tower; often, as in this case, there are tiny shrines.
Here’s part of the south wall on the fourth rectangle wrapping the Ranganatha temple. You can see why the French, and later the British, found the temple a ready-made fortress. It likely had been fortified as protection against invading Muslim armies, who repeatedly managed to destroy the place. The temple as it stands is mostly a creation of the 14th century onwards.
A Krishna temple stands in the courtyard between the third and fourth walls. It’s just west of the main north-south axis and about 200 meters south of the temple’s main shrine.
The shrine itself was locked on the day I came by, but being off to the side means that nobody has bothered “improving it.” Well, that’s not true of the vimana or tower. A guide was showing two Swiss tourists around. I intruded and after a minute asked if the guide if he thought the paint was an improvement. “No!,” he almost shouted. Good for him, say I. And did.
We can argue all day about whether paint would be an improvement. Anyway, here’s Krishna with his flute. Apparently he likes plus-sized women.
Is it possible that she doesn’t notice his hand? Oh, I see, she’s just being coy.
Judging from her hand, I’d say she’s hurrying him along.
We’re up on a nearby roof; the main axis of the temple runs under the slightly higher roof just to our right, then through the gopuram and on to the low, gold-capped main shrine, open only to Hindus. The gopuram on the right is the Vellai or Vellayi gopuram; it’s on the east side of the same wall whose south side we saw a while back, and it’s painted white (vellai in Tamil) in memory of a woman (named Vellayi) who is said to have sacrificed herself to save a temple treasure from invaders.
A stone pole sticks through a recently built roof over the main axis. The craftsmanship of this temple, on a scale of 1 to 10, ranges from, well, 1 to 10.
Here’s that white gopuram. Wish I knew why this courtyard wasn’t paved. And why the coconut palms had been decapitated.
The same sandy courtyard is flanked by a “thousand-pillar” hall. More like 953, by one count (not mine). Nice elephant, though. Nicer than the temple’s live elephant, which deserves better than to be treated like a slave.
The other side of the same courtyard has a smaller hall called the Seshagiri-rao Temple. The columns or monolithic pillars are typical of the Vijayanagara Empire (1336-1646). I can’t figure out why the figure is smiling, but I take these images literally. Maybe the horse is so well-trained that it wouldn’t dream of trampling its handler.
The temple is most atmospheric early in the day, here at the north entrance.
The walls within walls layout is frustrating is you have trouble walking. Anyway, that’s another subsidiary temple off to the right. The “tuning fork” is a tengalai, the sign of one of the two major Vaishnava sects. (The other is the vadakalai, represented by a U-shaped symbol without the prong.) Yes, the Ranganatha Temple is dedicated to Vishnu, despite subsidiary temples to other gods. Ranganatha is itself one of Vishnu’s names, translating approximately of “lord of the place” (ranga=place, nata=lord). Within the innermost shrine, Vishnu reclines under the protective heads of the great snake Shesha; there, he may grant the wishes of devotees.
Another subsidiary temple, locked tight.
The exteriors of these subsidiary temples have plenty to see, even if the interiors are locked up. Too bad that the paint-brigade has been busy. Maybe some of the priests visited Disneyland.
Ah, a mithuna, a reminder of what Stella Kramrisch called “reintegration.” So easy to forget, so hard to remember.
The temple is a big place, and some of it’s pretty crude.
I know: tour operators aren’t likely to ask if they can use this photo for their brochures.
Anyway, a peaceful moment.
Dawn’s coming. Elephants walk very quietly, but you feel their presence, and it’s hard not to tag along. Nobody has to to tell you to keep your distance. Remember, you’re barefoot. No steel-toed boots here.
