Continuing the Hampi Diaries:

We had a packed five days including travel. Maybe we picked the wrong time of the year to go as it was just awfully hot, and no, we are not firangs that we can’t manage the heat ( but secretly I just wanted to crawl into an igloo and never come out). The heat is merciless. It is oppressive and unrelenting and saps you of joy. Everything becomes an effort in its shimmering cruelty.

Let me describe Hampi to you. Historically, Hampi was the seat of the Vijayanagar Empire circa 14th century for 200 years and was one of the richest cities in the world. Art, architecture, international trade and a thriving civilization made it one of the most coveted empires that unfortunately eventually fell to the Shahs, the Deccan Sultans who waged war, sacking and destroying Hampi. They defaced much of the elaborate and spectacular stonework, leaving behind but a whisper of past magnificence. What we have now are just the remnants and ruins of a mighty empire built around the ancient civilization of Kishkindha, dating back to the 2nd Century.

Like any ancient civilization, this one also developed along a river, the Tungabhadra. The landscape is harsh, sprinkled with giant rocks and boulders seemingly strewn across the vast plain by celestial design. The earth is fertile and dense green with cash crops, little ribbons of velvet bringing wealth and colour to the arid browns. The land is unforgiving, with relentless sun and high hills, and stone, stone, stone everywhere. The giant monoliths are magnificent and worthy of exploration. They hide leopards, have rock temples within and are a climber’s delight.

As you explore the sites of the ancient temples and royal buildings, you will find even older stone shrines, gateways, arches, rock carvings, bridges, bazars, hotels for travellers, wells and embankments- all dating back a few centuries. Unchanged except for the ravages of Time. All beautifully designed and carved by hand many hundreds of years ago.

All just THERE.

This was the biggest marvel for me.

It was like Rome.

The old and the new just continue to be, to endure and to live side by side.

You will have an ancient banyan tree, standing alone at a crossroads, so wide of girth, you know he is an old sentinel and might even be an Ent. Under the tree is a single auto rickshaw, modern and bedecked in neon. The two are juxtaposed against open fields and more hillocks of round boulders precariously perched on top of each other. You know this is an ancient route, leading down to the river bank where you cross by a local ferry. This route and this crossing have existed for millenia ( with temples and shelter for travellers beside the river).

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As you wait for the ferry, a large boat with an outboard motor that fits 10 motorcycles and 40 people (claims the ferryman!) You gaze upriver at the ruins of the great stone bridge across the Tungabhadra. Leading down from the Vijaya Vithala Temple complex across the river are immense large stone pillars fitted into grooves carved in the bedrock. You can still follow the now empty grooves and imagine the whole bridge as it used it be. It is awe-inspiring, the view unchanged for millenia.

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The whole area is protected. There is a reserve for sloth bears, a sanctuary for otters.And there are several large protected sites housing entire complexes of palaces and temples and more.

We picked the few must-see sights and decided not to do too much in the awful heat. We crossed in the local Annegundi ferry to the other side, and walked till we found the only auto. Giri, the friendly driver struck a deal with us to show us around three big sites that day, and off we zoomed…..sputtering with shock when the first sight was just around the corner, behind the hedge. Feeling sorely like we had been ripped off, nevertheless, we hired the services of local Guide, Raja, agreeing to pay him the official rate.

We stood in line with bunches of local tourists, with Dani the only gora around. There is a golf cart service to reach the main complex, or you walk the 1.5km ( but not in 40C). As the golf cart winds its way up the hill, you pass several stunning ruins of various temples, a step well, a hall where the devdasis would dance in worship, old buildings for shops in a grand bazaar. All very impeccably maintained and impressive.

As we stood in line to buy entry tickets, I was amused that the booth operator accepted Dani’ s adhar card and charged her the normal rate of Rs. 40. My laughter soon turned into indignation when he insisted I pay the foreigners rate of 600 since I didn’t have my adhar with me. He said my license and PAN weren’t good enough. I huffed and puffed and was really annoyed, but he insisted I was an NRI. He was finally convinced by his assistant and I paid the normal rate, and we entered the magnificent courtyard.

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The grand stone chariot dedicated to Lord Garuda stands in pride of place as you enter the large enclosure. One of only three in India, this chariot is adorned with horses and elephants and symbolic carvings, and stone wheels.

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The Vijaya Vithala Temple is dedicated to Lord Vishnu’s avatar of Vitthal. Various mandapas exist around the main shrine, dedicated to different uses such as one for marriages and the God Kama. Built by the Devaraya king for his danceuse wife, the main Rang Mandapa is unique and famous for its 56 musical stone pillars. As the queen danced, music was played on the numerous, single-piece stone columns that each emit a different instrument. It is truly marvellous. To protect her from outside eyes, the mandap was built with loops for drapes that hung from the roof to the floor.

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Exquisitely crafted, their top coat long eroded or destroyed, the buildings are beautiful. All the carvings tell a story. There are stories about horse trading with the Arabs, stories of chinese and japanese and european trade, elephants, tigers, horses and more. There is loads to see and learn and despite his heavy accent, Raja was a superb guide. We were really rather awed by all the history the design and the beauty. I loved the lone, old frangipani tree in the courtyard. Gnarled, twisted and stunningly beautiful, it screamed ‘White Tree of Gondor’ to me!

There are many more stories carved into doors and pillars, stories about Rama and Sita and dedications to Hanuman and his life. Kishkindha is the birthplace of Hanumanji, after all. It was infinitely humbling to see and learn so much about my own history and I definitely felt fiercely proud of what we had already achieved long ago, while much of the world was only just awakening from the Dark Ages.

Gosh……. So much more to discover and tell you about this beautiful world heritage site!!

Will have to write another post soon!

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