A train is a continuously moving potpourri of humanity with a great opportunity to observe people and their myriad behaviours — the families whose conversations and ample food fill the whole compartment, men who gape at girls, people who help utter strangers without hoping for any gains and the ever-changing sea of humanity at every station which seems faceless.
But I had no idea whatsoever when I climbed the Howrah Express on a Sunday night that I would also experience another thing — excruciating heat. The temperature in Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu and Orissa, through which we passed to reach Bhu-baneshwar, the capital of Orissa State (now called as Odisha), was above 40 degrees Celsius. Sitting still on a seat for a few minutes scorched the skin, with sweat dripping down like rain drops. It was a relief to reach Bhubaneshwar after nearly 40 hours of train journey.
Any first-timer can easily discern their entry into Orissa from the arid Andhra; the deuls or uniquely built Indo-Aryan (Kalinga) style temples with gopuras-on-tier and small mandirs dotted in the midst of fertile farmlands. But people have paid their price for the beauty of nature through poverty. A land which has borne both the burden of history and richness of culture, Orissa or Kalinga as it was formerly known, is now reduced to penury. The Kalinga land, where time stands still, is home to a slow-moving, yet sharp people who are a far cry from the pizza-loving, hi-fi Bangaloreans.
Entering Bhubaneshwar, the State Capital, is like sitting on a time machine and suddenly being catapulted to about 50 years back. It is one of the most unassuming cities of India, leaning more towards rurality. At first glance, it looks tiny, not like a State Capital. But any visitor will gape with wonder at the fact that the 2,000-year-old city has nearly a thousand sprawling temples, well-maintained with beautiful gardens and pushkari-nis by the Archaeological Dept.
The city has some of famous pilgrimage centres including Lingaraja and Mukteshwara temples. Except for a few templ-es like the Lingaraja, most temp-les we visited were just tourist spots and the deities were not worshipped. God seems closer and accessible at some temples where pujas are performed, as it is not the priests but the visitors who go into the sanctum and worship the deity directly. At the 1,000-yr-old Lingaraja temple, there is a mini-shrine of exquisite carving everywhere we turn our eyes.
For us Southerners, finding good rapport with the food in Orissa is quite difficult as they love sweet and every dish they prepared was too sweet for our taste. They prepare many kinds of curries which are, once again, obviously sweet. Food from one Ananthapadmanabha temple is brought for many functions and is prepared in tiny earthen pots. About 7 pots of rice are kept one above the other and cooked simultaneously and this gives a unique flavour to the rice.
About 8-km from the city is Dhauli, the place steeped not only in history but also in bloodshed. The most famous Kalinga war which changed the course of Indian history and Buddhism, was fought by King Ashoka on the plains here in 261 BC. Now, river Daya flows silently snaking through empty farmlands as a mute witness to the killing of thousands of men on its banks, as if trying to wash away any grime that may have been left over.
It is said, sitting on the banks of Daya, King Ashoka contemplated on the bloodshed caused by the war and decided to embrace Bu-ddhism. He erected two main rock edicts in Kalinga, one in Dhauli and other in Jayagarh. The edicts are remarkably well-preserved, despite the fact that they date back to the 3rd century BC. A sculpted elephant, the universal symbol of Lord Buddha, tops the rock edicts and is the earliest Buddhist sculpture in Orissa.
The Vishwa Shanti Stupa (peace pagoda), built through Indo-Japanese collaboration, is on the opposite hill. The pure dazzling white stupa with splashes of yellow and grey in between is tranquil with sculptures of Buddha all around and scenes from Buddha's life etched on the stupa. The serene Buddha, looking at the Kalinga battlefield in front of him, seems to be contemplating on the horrors of war and beauty of peace.
Some one told me that there is a pair of hills with hundreds of caves about 8 kms from the city. I expected caves embedded in the mountains but not in the form of double-storeyed sprawling cave complex with separate rooms for monks. Most ornately carved caves in Udayagiri and Khandagiri were built for Jain monks — both Digambara and Shwethambara — as per their meditation systems; flat cave floors for Shwethambara monks and floors with a slight incline for Digambara monks who are said to meditate even on bed.
One huge cave complex in Udayagiri is called Ranigumpha (Queen caves) and another is the famous Hathigumpha (Elephant caves) with inscriptions of King Kharavela. Khandagiri caves are mostly natural, embedded in the mountains. The steps, where monkeys await with a gnarl to snatch groundnut from the visitors, lead to the Jain temple of 24 Thirthankaras and Mahaveera.
Some 16 kms from Bhubaneshwar is India's most famous applique village, Pipili. Every family in the village is engaged in applique work. Applique, a French term, is a technique by which cut pieces of coloured fabrics are sewn to the surface of another foundation fabric forming colourful designs. Applique work of Pipili is also known in local language as 'Chandua.'
The shamiana (canopies) and chhatris (umbrellas) that bear applique designs of great artistic skills are manufactured at Pipili. Brightly coloured patches of fabric, cut into animal and flower shapes, are sewn onto bed covers, cushions, wall hangings etc. Any type of worship or sacrifice is incomplete without Pipili’s chandua. During chandan yatra of the world-famous Lord Jagannath Rath Yatra of Puri, the entire proce-ssion is taken out covering deities with applique chhatris. Another unique usage of the applique sha-miana that I noticed is in enshrouding the roof of temple sanctum so the bats in temples do not disturb the devotees [Here, the bats are not driven out — a classic example of human-animal peaceful co-existence.
A fork in the road after Pipili takes you to Konark, where the only temple in the world dedicated to Sun God, competes with Himself to get a place in the visitor's camera. The massive 13th century temple is a World Heritage Site built in weathered sandstone. The temple is built in the form of the chariot of Surya, drawn by seven horses on twelve pairs of beautiful wheels which have now become symbols of Konark.
It is a marvel of science and architecture that the spokes of wheels serve as sundials and the shadows cast by them give the exact time of the day. The Natya Mandir or high dance platform in front of the temple is embellished with sculptures of graceful dancing maidens. On this platform, it is said, the temple dancers performed in homage to Surya. The temple has carvings of celestial and human musicians, dancers, mythological creatures, intricate botanical and geo-metrical designs, myriad scenes of hunting, battles etc.
However, Konark is also famous for its erotic sculptures of humans, animals and mythical creatures. The main entrance to the temple is closed and the temple has collapsed at some places. The closed temple assumes a mysterious air with imaginations running high about what really may have happened that destroyed the temple, what happened to the deity inside and what exactly the interiors look like. It has been hundreds of years since it was closed and knowing the truth may change the course of Indian history.
Outside, it's just a small village with a street lined by the usual vendors offering replicas of the temple and sea shells and its carvings. The Policeman, who refused to allow our car inside the restricted area, later went away with a nonchalant wave of his hand after receiving Rs. 10 from our experienced driver. I guess, bribing opens up all doors, historical or otherwise.
Puri is another town on the sea shore. With waves lapping up the Golden Beach trying to pull unwary humans into its fold, the beach is lined with hundreds of resorts and hotels as Puri is one of the biggest pilgrim centres in the world. The place is uniquely placed so that both sunrise and sunset can be viewed from the beach. Trying to find a hotel was a struggle as all the beach hotels were full and rooms cost above Rs. 5,000 per night. The only temple where the Lord is worshiped not with spouses but with siblings, Puri is known for its wooden idols of Lord Jagannatha, Balarama and Subhadra and their unusual features. The Jagannath Yatra of Puri is witnessed by lakhs of people every year and it is believed that since many people got crushed under the massive chariot of the yatra, the word 'juggernaut' was coined. There are over 120 smaller shrines inside temple complex which is full of Pandas who accost you every step of the way, trying to tell the history of the place and guiding you to conduct pujas.
Impressed by the cleanliness I found in Bhubaneshwar, I was disappointed to see the omnipresent dirty surroundings of all temples even in Puri. We had to wa-de through a sea of humans, carts, cows, bulls, beggars, cycles and vendors, all at the same time without being hit by any of them or falling on our face into the dirt. The whole State of Orissa, nah Odisha, is a trip back to the previous century — a calm place where docile people lived peacefully even in the midst of poverty, or so I thought. But the day of our return saw some cops being abducted by Maoists and released.
The journey back to Karnataka was return not only to normalcy but also mundanity. Odisha, where myth comes alive, is a State worth visiting, if you wish to be gripped by a sense of aesthetic antiquity.
