Source: http://www.indiafacts.co.in/ajanta-ellora-grandeur-cultural-amnesia-conclusion/
In the first part, I mentioned that monuments like Ajanta and Ellora “represent vibrant showcases of the deep commitment, which a nation displays in preserving the memory of people and places these nations have much to be proud of.” In a way, they are the true representatives of the soul of a civilization. One can’t lament enough that in India, these true representatives continue to remain in a state of unforgivable neglect.
In the case of Ajanta and Ellora, a few additional layers are at also work as we shall see. But first, it’s important to remember that both are UNESCO World Heritage sites.
What follows is what I call the politics of monuments.
A tale of two caves: Ajanta
Very early in SL Bhyrappa’s path-breaking novel Vamsha Vruksha, we are treated to elaborate, rich, elevating, and insightful exposition on the Buddhist art found in Ajanta caves. In many ways it is SL Bhyrappa’s literary tribute to the legendary Ananda K Coomaraswamy’s scholarly tomes on the subject.
This exposition is also beautifully interspersed with the sheer difficulty of physically visiting Ajanta caves. Vamsha Vruksha was published in 1965 and the specific scene set in the Ajanta caves is placed in the 1940s decade.
After about 60 years, when I visited Ajanta I was in for a pleasant shock. I had anticipated and had braced myself for an arduous trek going by Dr. Bhyrappa’s description.
The tourism department has converted the entire site and the surrounding “village” into a model of top class tourism. The actual caves, nay, the face of the Sahyadri Mountain that couches these caves is not visible when you land there. A sprawling and nicely-manicured parking lot greets you at first sight followed by an tasteful pathway that leads to the ticketing counter.
However, to get to the ticketing counter, one needs to pass through a large canopy, which shelters shops selling beverages, curios, handicrafts, SIM cards, mobile Internet cards, a browsing centre, various cuisines, fruits, home decoration items…a self-contained economic universe with all the urban creature comforts housed in less than an acre of land.
What is even more surprising is the fact that given the general state of public hygiene and cleanliness that begins with Maharashtra and characterizes much of North India, Ajanta is a marvel of cleanliness. No spitting. No paan stains. No smoking. No litter. The ticketing counter is comparable in discipline to say Waterworld at San Diego or the Louvre museum.
Once we’re past the ticketing counter, we need to wait for the tourism department’s bus to take us on for a four-kilometre ride to the actual caves. Again, the same discipline is followed. Buses aren’t allowed to be overcrowded. Once the seats are filled, we need to wait for the next bus, a wait that doesn’t exceed 15 minutes. Private transport isn’t allowed beyond the parking lot. After the four-kilometre journey, we begin a modest climb of steps. For those unable to do the climb, the palki (palanquins) facility is available till this spot:
This is the beginning of the journey to the caves. The entrance of each cave sports a board giving us significant amount of documentation about the significance, history, legend, art style, and related information pertaining to that cave. Because most caves contain exquisite paintings now in danger of permanent destruction, flash photography is strictly prohibited. It is clear that regular maintenance and preservation work is carried out at all the caves. Guards are stationed outside and inside the caves. It appears that they are specially trained in the fine art of mercilessly, openly insulting tourists who try to click pictures.
One of the caves has a large screen and projector to show an exhaustive video showcasing the glory Ajanta in fine-grained detail. A tourist information bureau sells books about the place and hires out guides. In short, even a mundane tourist experience of Ajanta is on the same level as any of the well-maintained museums and historic sites in the West.
A tale of two caves: Ellora
Even as we finish the last leg of the journey after the Daulatabad fort, we don’t realize that we have actually arrived at the site of Ellora caves. Parking is chaotic. The parking lot is untarred, uneven, and the ground beneath our feet is dented and potholed. And it suffers from the same, permanent illness that most pathetically-maintained historical sites suffer. The government staff who gives the parking ticket is in cahoots with auto rickshaw drivers, “tourist guides,” and assorted wheeler-dealers. As he tears the ticket, he will “suggest” some “recommended” tourist guides and “knowledgeable” auto drivers who will size you up first and quote rates accordingly.
As magnificent as the Kailasanath temple is, its upkeep and crowd management is thrown to the winds compared to Ajanta where only a fixed number of people are allowed in a cave at a time. The result: an ocean of bedlam and worse, we witness people spitting at will inside the temple complex. A physical, every day, and live manifestation of the country-wide cultural amnesia that we suffer from: spitting inside a temple complex.
A large, lone and orphaned ASI board standing outside each cave declaring it a UNESCO world heritage site is all that we can learn about Ellora.
Given the three-kilometre expanse of Ellora caves, we are shocked by the utter apathy–barely-tarred roads connecting each cave, no guards or guides, no signboards. Some stretches connecting the different caves are almost gutter-like—in structure and stench. Along a few stretches of these caves, I sensed an air of pitiful desolation, a wailing plea to save them from total abandonment.
Exhibit 1:
Apart from the ticket-tearing guard at the entrance of the Kailasanath temple, none of the other caves have anybody to even look over them. Here’s an instance. Notice the superbly-done Nandi sculpture. The same sense of abandonment, desolation, a choking seclusion.
We can walk around the place, sit on the Nandi, kick it, and drink liquor and do drugs, in the safe assurance that not a soul will question you. Except for the Kailasanath temple, this state of affairs holds true for the rest of the Ellora caves.
Which also brings us to the rows upon rows of mutilated temples, sculptures, and idols. Here are two representative samples.
These are various representations of the mother Goddess Parvati, heads and limbs chopped off. A casual glimpse at history tell us that Aurangzeb,
In 1690 AD ordered destruction of temples at Ellora, Trimbakeshwar, Narasinghpur, and Pandharpur.
Every Government since have simply carried forward Aurangzeb’s torch using a more effective method: neglect to the point of irreversible decay.
Grishneshwar Temple
The same story is repeated in the nearby Grishneshwar temple. An interesting and familiar facet greets us even as we approach the temple—a mosque that towers over Grishneshwar akin to Kashi Vishwanath where Nandi faces in the direction of the Gyanavapi mosque. Even to the untrained eye, this comparison reveals an obvious truth.
The sculptural work and carving right at the bottom of the picture are revealing.
And now when we compare the previous picture with the following picture, the full truth emerges.
The carving in the first picture clearly shows a chakra, a shankha and intricate floral designs, all of them, elements of typical Hindu temple architecture.
The second picture is that of a mosque. The chakra and shankha are located near the base of the mosque. The overall architectural style of this mosque clearly shows that apart from the ubiquitous dome, this mosque resembles more a Hindu structure than an Islamic one. It is left to our imagination to deduce how this came about.
Concluding Notes
At the end of this rather tedious exercise, some conclusions are inescapable.
It is evident that the reason for the stellar maintenance of Ajanta caves owes a lot to the worldwide Buddhist lobby, whose power and reach is grossly underestimated. Apart from Ajanta, an even better example is the way in which the Sanchi stupa is preserved and maintained. Ajanta truly pales in comparison.
In 2009, Ram Vilas Paswan lobbied to oust Hindus in the Mahabodhi management and wanted to populate it entirely with Buddhists. While that seems a reasonable demand, the deeper point is that this move will permanently sever the centuries-old tradition and civilizational continuum.
Equally, the so-called revival of the Nalanda University under the Communist aegis of Amartya Sen is purely a political ploy wearing the garb of Buddhism. Indeed, the deception is more fundamental—the Amartya Sens of the world will assume their practiced stoic silence about the industrial scale extermination of Buddhists at the hands of Islamic butchers—the same stoic silence they employ in whitewashing the Islamic destruction of Hindu temples.
This game of one-upmanship is one of the chief reasons Hindu monuments continue to languish and are wilfully allowed to disintegrate.
The other and more important reason though is the near-complete deracination of Hindus. As I mentioned in the first part of this series, Ellora is simply another drop in the sea of similar monuments across the country. Take any state, city, town and village. I will pick two random examples: the splendid Hoysala temples in Nagalapura village in Karnataka stand orphaned except for that omnipresent ASI signboard. In terms of aesthetics, they even rival the Belur Chennakeshava temple. And the state of most of the grand temples in Tamil Nadu evokes tears of blood.
It is a sign of sorts that today’s devout Hindus throng at a street-corner temple than give a few moments’ thought on the plight of say the Kailasanath temple and what they can do to preserve and restore at least a part of its former glory. Even if that is asking for too much, the least they can do is to revive active Puja in such temples. This one move will automatically ensure that the simplest of things will fall in place: like people not wearing footwear when they enter the Kailasanath temple. Once this is achieved, no law or security guard will be necessary.
The other area which begs urgent attention is the mindless policy of our government, which treats these monument-temples as tourist places not dissimilar to a zoo or aquarium. But it appears that these simple changes won’t take place in a hurry mainly because of two reasons: our cultural amnesia is too widespread and deep-rooted and we are deracinated to the extent that we are unaware that we are deracinated.
