A paen to Sun God

magnificent monument

One was the Angkor Wat and the other was the Sun Temple at Konarak. Personally I preferred the latter although Angkor was splendid, massive, spread out over extensive forests. It had the added advantage of the aura of mystery that surrounds it, fuelled by stories and images of huge tendrils of certain trees twisting and twining around temples and other buildings, images which had been used to represent another world, the dark side of nature which seeks to destroy as well as create. There is a brooding stillness about it, a sense of mystery and awe.

The Sun Temple, on the other hand, stands on the seashore, although it has moved inward because of the  sea moving backward. It is illumined by light at all times; the early morning dawn with pink fingers stealing across the sky, the noonday blaze an the soft twilight. The moonlit nights are not fearful, on the other hand, they are soft, gleaming on the stones, illumining a figure of woman, the image Surya, on playful elephants on friezes.

It is easy to get a picture of all the architecture and figures from good books. What remains in my mind are the impressions. I saw it first from the walls surrounding it. It was huge yet delicate, and the brightly coloured men and women and children moving across the natya mandapa like ants provided an amazing counterpoint to its size.

The size, enhanced by the blue waters of the sea, seems a striking spectacle, but there is rhapsody in going close and scrutinising it. Although the proliferation of statuary and carving are sufficient to bedazzle the mind, taken individually, they form a miraculous sight, yet they blend in so harmoniously with the whole.

I was left wondering as to who conceived of this as yet unparalleled plan when technology was not involved?

To me, the Natya Mandapa was easily the most graceful, even in its broken down sate. I find that even in Cambodia in Angkor Wat. Seeing a structure which is in ruins is a wonderful exercise in imagination. To conceive in the mind, from the broken yet graceful monument, what it could have been in its heyday takes one into more powerful areas, a fitting testament. Therefore, to envision the huge rectangular enclosure, now roofless, built on a platform with profuse decorations of dancing figures, musicians and lovers is an exhilarating exercise in itself. So to go back in memory, listening to the tinkling of anklets, now fast and whirring, now slow and stately, and the musicians with their instruments being carried into the breathless air beyond and into the waters is sublime. And beyond the graceful, the power of the rulers is evident in the rampant horses on the backs of kneeling elephants.

The wheels of the chariot were superb. Although many have fallen to the erosion of the salt air and weather, sufficient remains to be marvelled over. Twelve wheels symbolising the 12 months, each with 16 spokes which is like a giant sundial on which the shadow falls at a particular angle each hour of the day and the seven horses for the seven days of the week must have been conceived in the mind of a master craftsman. Each spoke, hub and rim of the wheels is covered with figures of deities, amorous couples and floral wreaths and scrolls. They are happy wheels, and I found myself bending to see as much as I could.

Facts about the Sun Temple can be got from any book — about the gigantic jagmohan, the wonderful doorways made of chlorite, the tiered pyramidal roof, the stairways guarded by animals like the crouching lion and elephant. The overall spectacle is breathtaking. Each statuary and carving can be admired in itself and yet it contributes in its entirety to the whole.

The sheer magnificence of the architecture, contributing to the symbolism of the Sun God who guides our movements, gives us light and shade, cannot be underestimated. It must have been a wonderful sight from the sea to those passing it in days long gone — the awe remains still.