Yakshagni - An odyssey of unbroken devotion - II

 16)  Modhera

Growing up in the bosom of the Himalayas, Dharma had been excited by pictures of the sea many a time. She had often imagined how one felt sailing in the unending waters of the ocean. She would love to explore the marine world under the infinitely blue waters as she had grown up listening to folktales of water kingdoms thriving under the seas. Not surprisingly, when she boarded the train to Ahmedabad, she had been quite excited to see the coastline. To her, Gujarat represented the remains of the Indus Valley Civilization, the Arabian Sea, and a number of flowing rivers. However, it was only after reaching Ahmedabad that she learnt that the coastline was much farther away from the city.

Nevertheless, she was quite excited to travel to Modhera. In jeans and a crisp white baggy linen shirt, Dharma felt completely at ease. With her black glossy hair put up in a high knot, she felt relieved from the burden of managing her hair.

Once they left the boundaries of the city, they relaxed in the cab to enjoy the passing landscape. The broad and excellent Palanpur highway was a pleasure to travel and when they crossed the historical town of Kalol, the cab driver asked if they wanted to take a break. All the same, they continued their journey to Modhera without break.

It was nearing noon when they reached Modhera. The view of the temple complex, built on an elevated platform, could be seen from a distance and Dharma's heart raced at the sight of the architectural glory. Surrounded by a lush green park, the temple welcomed them to its serene setting. An office of the Architectural Review of India was in operation and Dharma learnt that it took care of the maintenance of the complex. The paved pathway led to the three structures in the complex; the shrine hall, the assembly hall, and the most unique of all, the stepwell called Ramakund.

The plaque erected near the gate recorded that Modhera was the second most revered Sun temple in India; the first being Konark. The temple was built by Bhimadeva -I of the Solanki dynasty (also called the Chaulukya dynasty) on the left bank of the River Pushpavati in the 11th CE. As they read the details on the plaque, it was the sight of the reservoir that caught Dharma's attention. It had a grand flight of steps and to her astonishment, there were 108 tiny shrines built around the stepwell. Mitali and Nikhil exclaimed at the antiquity of the complex and they were stunned that the first rays of the sun fell directly on the main hall during equinox days of the year.

"Can you believe that the temple is built close to the Tropic of Cancer?" Nikhil stated, reading the plaque.

"The builders were much more knowledgeable and wiser in those times," Mitali added.

Walking towards the main complex, Dharma watched the beauty of the timeworn stepwell. Built in a particular style of Maru-Gurjara, it attracted the attention of the visitors very easily.

As soon as Dharma, Mitali, and Nikhil entered through the gate, the magnitude of the temples and their architecture struck them with awe. While Mitali followed Nikhil to the Gudhamandapa, Dharma excused herself to visit the stepwell. The distinctive features of the ornate carvings and the temples built around the rectangular tank made Dharma gasp. Indeed, the sheer splendour of the craftsmanship caught her breath. The symmetrical pattern of the steps and their perfection echoed the Solanki dynasty's love for art and aesthetics. The two pavilion towers that guarded the tank were not as grandly ornamented as other structures and they were called the Kirti-Torana.

The tank, which was rectangular in shape, was paved with stones all around. There were four terraces and recessed steps to reach the bottom of the tank.  A small flight of steps led one from the first terrace to the second. The steps were constructed in such a way that when one climbed down, one had to turn right or left to take the flight of steps to the next level, and the same pattern was repeated till the bottom. These steps were rectangular or square except for the first step of each flight of steps which was semi-circular. Several miniature shrines and niches on the terrace-wall had images of gods and goddesses. Amongst the many smaller ones, there was one bigger temple constructed in the center of each side of the rectangular reservoir. Dharma was tempted to try the rhythmic variation of the steps that steered one to the base of the tank. Putting it off for a later time, Dharma strode through the pavilion towers to the Sabhamandapa, also called the dancing hall. She counted the 52 pillars that represented fifty-two weeks of the year. Every pillar was carved intricately, denoting the magnificence of the masonry of those times. The arch at the center of the hall was shaped in the form of an inverted lotus. The inner walls were carved with exquisite sculptures and scenes from epics like Ramayana and Mahabharata.

Moving to the third part of the complex, the sanctorum; Dharma studied the various engravings of the Sun God. The sanctum sanctorum was designed in such a way that the first rays of the sun lit up the main deity (Surya) on summer solstice day. The idol was missing as it was destroyed by the invader Mohammad Ghazni.

There were chiselled images of elephants on the outer walls of the temple. The number of elephants adding up to 365 denoted 365 days of a year.

Dharma wandered around the complex, absorbing the ambience of the place. Entering the museum run by ARI, Dharma perused the artefacts and books exhibited. She asked the person at the counter, "Excuse me, can you tell me where the caretaker stays?"

"There is no caretaker here."

"No, I have heard that there is a priest who comes here regularly."

"Oh, he does not stay here. He stays in Mehsana. This complex is maintained by ARI and as there is no deity in the sanctum sanctorum, the priest does not visit now."

"Can you give me his address?" Dharma asked.

Frowning at her, he asked, "Why do you need his address?"

Dharma came up with an on-the-spot story, "I am writing a book so I thought I will visit the priest to learn more about Modhera."

Dharma managed to get the address of the priest and with a grateful acknowledgement, she exited the museum after informing Mitali and Nikhil.

Mehsana was a large town and vestiges of royal rule were visible at some places. The priest's house was located in a congested part of the town. The wrought iron grill enclosing the veranda of the house and the brown cat glowering at her did not look very welcoming, but steeling herself, Dharma knocked on the door. An old woman unlocked the latch and glanced at her enquiringly. Since she did not know the local language, Dharma spoke in Hindi, "I am looking for one Puroshotam Vyas ji..."

The woman led Dharma to a dark and dingy room where an old man was seated on a floor bed, with a hardbound book on his lap.

"Namaste!" Dharma greeted hesitatingly.

"Come and sit in front of me. My eyesight is weak," he conveyed after his wife apprised him of Dharma’s arrival.

Dharma squatted on the floor in front of him, "I believe you used to go regularly to Modhera temple?"

The old man's eyes turned wistful, "Oh yes, I used to enjoy visiting the place. But since the ARI took over, I have restricted myself from going there regularly."

"I am hosting a show and I would like to hear some old stories about Modhera. Anything you know about King Bhim-I who constructed the temple?"

"King Bhim-I?" he drew a long breath thoughtfully and began, "Yes, that was the golden period of Gujarat. But like they say, all good times come to an end, and for Bhim-I, the bad times arrived in the form of Mahmud Ghazni who first destroyed Somnath temple and later, charged towards Modhera with his troops. He ruined the impressive idol of the Sun god seated on a chariot, dug up the pit under the main shrine, and decamped with the wealth that was buried there."

"But didn't the king do anything?"

"Oh, the invaders had a large army. What could have our king with 20,000 soldiers done? So, before the enemy arrived, the king escaped and took shelter in a nearby kingdom. Even the residents were evacuated from the town. So, when Ghazni reached Modhera, there was only wealth to plunder. There was no bloodshed. After Ghazni left, the king returned and rebuilt the temple, and ruled here for many years successfully."

"Interesting! Thank you so much. Other than this, can you tell me something that was out of the ordinary during those days? Something that has not been talked about often or something that had been hidden? Anything?" Dharma coaxed the older man while he turned around to extract a dogeared notebook from the shelf behind him. The old woman whispered something in Puroshotam's ears. His toothless face beamed in delight. He glanced at Dharma and said, "Yes, I can tell you about Jalindra. He was the governor to Bhim-I during the king's successful reign."

"Oh! What is special about him? Did he fight against Ghazni?" Dharma asked attentively.

"No, he was found on the banks of the River Pushpavati by the king. Jalindra had no memory of his life. He did not even remember his name. Hence, our king named him Jalindra, meaning lord of the water."

Dharma listened avidly to the old man, "How old was this Jalindra when he was found by the river?"

"Don't know but I believe he was twenty or so years of age. The king and Jalindra became friends and when the king returned to the kingdom after Mahmud Ghazni left, Jalindra became his right-hand man. He advised the king on many matters and he was responsible for the crushing of the rebellion by the king's vassals at Arbuda. He also guided the king to play an important role in the downfall of Paramara king Bhoja," the old man recounted, pleased to have someone listen to him with such keenness.

"So, what was special about this Jalindra? There had to be something for you to talk about him?"

"It seems, Jalindra was haunted by something that never allowed him to sleep or live peacefully. I believe he used to visit magicians, witches and fortune tellers to find the reason for his mental agony."

Purushotam Vyas took a pause and closed his eyes momentarily. He seemed to recall something significant that brightened his face, "Oh yes it was believed that his past life was tormenting him. Apparently, he left behind a love who had been waiting for him all her life. The local puppeteers used to recount the tale to one and all. When Jalindra became ill, he wrote a poem and asked the king to inscribe it on his cenotaph."

The tiny bit of information excited Dharma and she asked, "Can you tell me where his cenotaph is?"

"One of the 108 shrines around the stepwell in Modhera is dedicated to him. He was a famous figure in the local folklores; as an unrequited lover, he was depicted as the hero who died yearning for his lover."

"Oh!" pleased that her visit had not gone to waste, Dharma planned to find the shrine and enact the poetry during the show.

"Why was Jalindra's shrine erected near the reservoir? There are only gods and goddesses there."

"Jalindra was worshipped as a tragic romantic hero. It was believed that a young man had been denied entry into the kingdom because he was in love with the daughter of a rich merchant. The girl was heartbroken. She heard a puppeteer narrating the story of Jalindra and listening to him, she prayed to Jalindra to unite her with her lover. Her young man entered the kingdom in the guise of a woman and found her. Together, they left the kingdom and lived happily in Malwa. Since then, Jalindra was considered something of a local god for young lovers. And his shrine was built later around the stepwell. I believe it was constructed by a successor to Bhim-I."

"Jalindra's story is very significant. Once again, I thank you for the valuable information," Dharma's polite words made the old man chuckle in mischievous delight, "Isn't it a pleasure for me, when a pretty girl like you comes in search of an old hag like me?"

Dharma grinned at the naughty glint in the man's eyes and took her leave.

 Armed with this bit of information, Dharma reached Modhera and rushed to the stepwell. Giving in to her temptation finally, she climbed down to the last step of the tank and began to examine each shrine. Most of them were dedicated to mythological figures and the inscription on some of them was in Sanskrit and Gujarati script. By the time she reached the third side of the rectangular tank, she was exhausted. Still, she continued like a woman possessed. At the northern corner of the two sides of the tank, she saw a temple carved differently. It looked as if it had been constructed much later. Dharma peered closely at the shrine. There was no idol inside the small chamber but the inscription on the inner wall was in Hindi, a language familiar to her. Switching on her mobile torch, she clicked a picture of it and enlarged the image. It was a verse of a poem,

"Fair of face and heart of gold,

Mistress of love and goddess of happiness,

My heart will hold you forever in gratitude."

It was crystal clear that Jalindra was haunted by a love that he could not fathom. Dharma pondered if the departed soul ever got a chance to unite with his love.

Satisfied with the discovery, and contemplating how she could use it in her show, she climbed up the stairs hurriedly and reached the main hall to study the sculptures. She hoped that she would stumble upon a peculiar idea to include in her show.

The sunlight flooding the Gudhamandapa was fading gradually, and other than Dharma, there was only a man standing near a pillar with his back to the entrance. He was perusing the carvings on the colonnade. Dharma was curious about the man. His linen trouser and cotton shirt grabbed her interest. As she stared at him, recognition dawned slowly on her. She waited for him to turn around and when he did, she feasted her eyes on the face that was awash with the warm rays of the sun. Woven strands of memories snaked in and out as their eyes regarded one another. Each thread of the anamnesis played different hues on Dharma's mind, igniting a burst of recollections that bewildered her. That face, glowing with aristocratic elegance, had loved her once with a passion that had seared her heart.

Like a ghost arising out of a foggy past, a realization hit Dharma that she had known Maurya before, probably in another life...