In polytheistic India, even the Gods can’t escape discrimination. There are rich Gods and poor Gods. Those with prized brand value like the overseer in Tirupathi are almost always favored to those countless generics. The rich Gods are seldom shy when it comes to exerting their power and influence – divine power so to speak. And they seem to get richer, unhindered by market fluctuations. Most of them promise salvation from a seemingly infinite list of political, economic, and personal travails and the demand for salvation never seem to dip. They preside over gilded towers and endless lines of the faithful…briskly shepherded in front of the “sanctum sanctorum” with technical precision. There is seldom room for inefficiency, relaxation or even reflection when the primary purpose of the temple visit is to comply with the unwritten compact between the mortal need and immortal promise. Ever heard of anyone visiting Tirupathi temple to have a quiet time? When you visit these temples, there is always a premium placed on the temporality of Darshan. The more you pay, the longer you get to stay.
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
While I was studying architecture at the National Institute of Technology, Trichy — the then Regional Engineering College– any field trip to the neighboring town of Thanjavur was guaranteed to offer two major rewards. Good food in an inexpensive restaurant and an evening visit to the 1000 year old Brihadeeshwara Temple –the “Big Temple” — where in addition to consuming deep fried snacks for cheap, you have the luxury of being within the confines of one of the cleanest and best maintained temple complexes in country, thanks to its designation as a UNESCO world heritage site. As students of architecture, the sheer monumentality of the temple spire would never fail to impress us while we munched away the deep fried murrukkus with tamarind rice lazing over the the manicured lawns with the sketchbooks by our side.
I visited the temple again few years ago after almost ten years and was relieved to observe that not much had changed – the randomly parked tour buses outside the temple perimeter, the aging elephant in front of the main gateway dispensing its ritual tap on your head with its moist trunk in exchange for a small fee, the well maintained lawn full of people of various ages, the busy ’prasadam’ stall selling food, and the the fairly empty shrine within the inner sanctum void of mad rush of devotees. And more importantly, no fresh coat of multi-colored plastic emulsion over thousand year old stone walls – UNESCO and the Archeological Survey of India must be doing at least something right.
Generous open spaces between the concentric perimeter walls, and partly enclosed pavilions are characteristic features of Dravidian temple typologies. However, these open spaces are seldom transformed into active public spaces for various reasons. But I have this theory: the greater the power attributed to the presiding deity, the poorer the quality of open spaces located within the temple.
Even after my mundane day to day existence working on the 25th floor at the San Francisco offices of Skidmore, Owings, and Merrill, the tallest structure in Thanjavur with a 20 story high tower was still a delight to the eyes. But after starting to make a living designing public places, I noticed something more to the temple beyond its history and sheer monumentality. The temple complex was probably the only successful public space within the entire town or perhaps the entire district. You just didnt visit the shrine..you lingered soaking up the urbanity that was always present around the religious edifice. And it was not a coincidence the the temple seem to attract more tourists than ardent devotees. There were more camera clicks than prayer chants.More people outside the shrine than within. There were longer lines outside souvenir shops and snack stalls and there was no mad rush to soak up on your quota of divine blessings.
Perhaps it’s a nice thing Lord Brihadeeshwara can’t promise miracles. And it gives me a source of comfort that if I do visit the Big Temple in the future, I am likely to still hear those reverberations from the temple bell, observe a local resident meditating in quiet corner, dodge toddlers running around the lawn, and notice those architecture students with their sketchbooks enjoying their deep fried “murukkus.”
