Anatomy of a Pilgrimage: Ellora

Ravana lifting Mount Kailash.

View of the Deccan pleateau
from Daulautabad Fortress.

It was just after 10am but the sun was already bearing down on us. The arid Deccan landscape reminded me of the sweeping landscapes seen in the Old Wild West movies, be they spaghetti or otherwise. After much planning and anticipation we were finally here, standing at the threshold to the Ellora caves in India. Wow.

The Jain Caves at Ellora.

The first cave of our visit.

In early 2008, I had the great fortune to visit the famous cave temples of Ellora with my mother.  Our "base camp" was a nice hotel in the city of Aurangabad, located about 400 km (~200 mi) east of Mumbai. Although Aurangabad proper dates from the Mughal era, the region has a much longer history. Located in the western Indian state of Maharashtra, the sites in and around Aurangabad, I dare say, encompass nearly all of the major influences on Indian history and culture. In addition to famous Hindu temples, Sufi shrines, and the Jain/Hindu/Buddhist cave temples of Ajanta and Ellora , you'll also find the tomb of the great Mughal emperor, Aurangzeb, from whom the city takes its name. While it's an up and coming boom town on the forefront of India's development, the city is still very much in touch with its heritage and has even been designated the "Tourism Capital of Maharashtra" due to its role as a tourist hub.

After breakfast, we met up with our driver (a pleasant local fellow) and arranged the day’s itinerary: a trip to Ellora with a visit to the nearby Daulatabad Fortress on the way back.  Before heading to India I made it a point to learn as much Hindi as I could and made sure to pack my Lonely Planet Hindi/Urdu Phrasebook.  While one can easily get by with English in India, especially in the big urban areas, we quickly found out that the locals really appreciated any attempt, regardless of accuracy, to communicate in a local tongue (India, has more than 20 official languages).  In the present situation, I decided I'd break the ice and practice my very basic level Hindi a bit.  Although Marathi is the official language in this region, Hindi is also widely spoken.

Me: ड्राईवर सहब, आपका नाम क्या है ?

(Driver-Sir, what's your name?)

Javed-Sahab: ओहो! हिन्दी बोलते?! अच्छा अच्छा। मैँ जावेद महोम्मेद अख़तर हूँ।

(Oh! You speak Hindi huh? Great! I'm Javed Mohammed Akhtar.)

After some brief small talk, I then switched the topic to one of utmost seriousness.

Me: आपको अमिताभ बच्चन पसंद है ?

(Do you like Amitabh Bachchan?)[the Bollywood Megastar and arguably the most famous man in India]

Javed-Sahab: जी, ज़रूर! वो सबसे अच्छा है !

(Of course! He's the greatest!)

To quote Mark Twain quoting a proverb in "A Tramp Abroad", a little learning makes the whole world kin.  This was especially true in India, as speaking a bit of Hindi in the northern parts seemed to instantly transform us from run of the mill tourists into honored travelers.

Map of the Ellora site.  Original source unknown.

Ellora (a UNESCO World Heritage Site) is comprised of three cave groups; Buddhist, Hindu, and Jain. The Buddhist caves are the oldest (5^th – 7^th Century CE), followed by the Hindu (6^th – 9^th Century CE) and Jain caves (8^th – 11^th Century CE). The drive from Aurangabad took about 30 minutes and began with us being dropped off by the Jain caves, which are  tucked away from the cluster of Hindu and Buddhist ones.

Boisterous kids were a common
sight during the trip.

The thing that caught my attention was the not the elegantly chiseled statues of Tirthankars or the big Indian families with rowdy, rampaging kids but the floor. While visiting most caves, in accordance with Indian tradition (and to help preservation efforts) one's shoes must come off. The feeling of my bare feet in contact with the warm and amazingly smooth stone was an unfamiliar yet pleasant experience. I'm not sure if the floors were polished by the builders, if this rock type is naturally so smooth, or if the surface had been weathered over the centuries, but I really felt "grounded' in the most literal sense.  The warmth of the floor was due to the fact that although it was the "winter season" in India, the temperature even in the late morning was a toasty 27 °C (80 °F).

The smooth, warm floor in the one of the Jain caves.

My initial feeling of wandering through the caves was one of pure wonder. It was as if I had walked in to another place in time.  The alternation between waves of peaceful, meditative stillness and chaotic noise (courtesy of the previously mentioned wild child gang, boisterous school kids, and miscellaneous loud^-mouthed folks) was an interesting contrast that recurred throughout all the sites of Ellora.

Jain sages are readily
identified by their lack of clothes.

Having explored the Jain caves, we then took a quick drive down to the main site to visit what is certainly the crown jewel of Ellora: Kailashnath Temple.  Built over a period of 150 years, there are two immediately striking things about it. The first is that it has a more South Indian architectural style to it.  The second, and more mind blogging, is that the entire thing was carved out from a single, giant piece of rock. Reading the last phrase may not seem so awe inspiring but hopefully the photos can give an idea of the massive scale and fine detail the temple is famous for.

The relief of Ravana moving Mount
Kailash, shown in the title image,
can be seen at the bottom.

Kailashnath Temple was built to be a mystical representation of the real Mount Kailash in the Himalayas, where Hindus believe Lord Shiva dwells. Thus, the temple itself is dedicated to Shiva. After exploring much of the "ground level" and side caves, my mom and I headed to the central structure that contained the inner sanctum. A simple room housed a shrine with a Shiva lingam in the center. A number of people (locals and tourists alike) took the opportunity to offer prayers and enjoy the serenity of a spot far removed from the constant hustle and bustle of the rest of the site. The fact that Kailash Temple was still functioning as a "living temple" and not simply a touristy showpiece inspired and also reminded me that I had come to Ellora (and later Ajanta) not really as a tourist but as a pilgrim.

Sculpture of Nandi, the bull
and loyal servant of Shiva.

Around one of the Hindu caves.

From Kailashnath Temple, we wandered through some more of the adjacent Hindu caves. Although they were  similar to the Jain caves, albeit with Hindu iconography, I was pleasantly surprised by what occured inside one of them.

Places like Ellora draw all kinds of visitors from all kinds of backgrounds and India is certainly a place that has many, many ethnic, religious, linguistic, and socio-economic backgrounds.  Thus, I didn't make too much of an elderly Muslim man with some of his grandchildren nicely sitting on the floor in the middle of Cave 15. It was also no surprise when they began their noon prayers (dhuhr - صلاة الظهر) facing Mecca. Watching from afar however, I slowly realized I was witnessing a wonderfully unusual scene that illustrated the beauty of Indian pluralism. Here was a Muslim family praying inside of a Hindu cave with their direction of prayer that just happened to be facing the centrally placed Shiva lingam! Almost as if on cue, the family finished their prayers just as a group of French tourists leisurely strolled in.

French tourists stylishly exploring the caves.

Our visit concluded with the Buddhist set of caves. We decided to "go in order" and start with the oldest (and farthest off) cave, Number 1. Although it and the other earlier caves were quite bare in the decorative sense, there was nonetheless a simple, utilitarian beauty to them.

The reliefs and sculptures of buddhas, bodhisattvas, and various celestial beings I saw throughout the caves somehow felt very natural. The rock-cut architectural style made everything seem so organic, as if the sculptures weren't carved by master artisans centuries ago but rather naturally grew out from the earth itself.

The statues and reliefs have been subjected to centuries of weathering as well as some abuse at human hands but they still effortlessly maintain their serene postures and calm, subduing expressions.  The caves at this end of Ellora were also much quieter as not many people were visiting them at this particular time.  In fact, we often had the caves all to ourselves or, at the very least, the other visitors were also very quiet.

Cave 10 is a unique hall known as the 'Carpenter's Cave'.  The name comes from Vishvakarma, the Hindu deity of craftsmen and architects.  The large, seated buddha in the teaching pose (Dharmacakra Mudra) as well as the unique style of the hall itself (more reminiscent of the older caves at Ajanta) make it Ellora's most well known Buddhist cave.

My personal favorite of all the caves would have to be Cave 12.  Dubbed teen tal, meaning 'three floors', the third and uppermost floor contains rows of bodhisattvas flanking a row of buddhas on the center of the hall.

While taking in the physical beauty and spiritual nourishment from the cave temples, my thoughts soon shifted to their long history.  Where I come from (USA), anything that's been around for more than 200 years is considered very, very old. What then, am I supposed to make of things which are 2000 years old?  For centuries, people who had completely devoted their lives to spiritual cultivation had studied, prayed, meditated, worked, and lived at Ellora, right where I was walking around.    I then wondered: what condition will our cities, schools, and monuments be in thousands of years from now? Will tourists throng to see the ruins of the White House or the head of the Statue of Liberty in a museum?  Perhaps tour groups will roam ancient centers of learning like Berkeley and MIT or even look upon the aged remains of the NASA platforms that launched human beings into space. 

Overall, my mother and I had spent about 4 hours at Ellora and visited most of caves although we had to skip a few of the more far flung Hindu caves.  One could easily spend an entire day there, however. I'd love to return again, not simply to see sites I missed, but to once again be in the midst of a place that is, in so many ways, beyond time.

A previous version of this post appeared on my previous blog, Bodhi Leaves.  As the topic fit perfectly for Bodhi Steps, I decided to post this slightly expanded version.

What's That There in the Background?

Postcard showing the famous
Daibutsu (giant Buddha) of Nara.

Blogger has some really nice, user friendly tools for creating good looking blogs very quickly.  Once I had an idea of what my layout would be and what colors to use, it was all downhill for the site design.  And then I needed a background image.  This decision required much thought.  I wanted something that was on one hand striking and yet wouldn't distract from the actual content of the posts.  I also wanted something that would allude to the Buddhist oriented theme of the blog but didn't want something as explicit as a giant buddha image.  After going through my many pictures, I chose a suitable one and after a bit of photo editing, had the perfect image.  The winner? A lovely shot of Todaiji temple in Nara, Japan.  The original full photo, even prettier in color, is shown below.  

Todaiji Temple during a clear, tranquil morning.

The purpose of my visit to Japan was initially business: a big, international scientific conference featuring some well-known attendees.  While I was excited at the opportunity to attend such an event, I was even more excited to do so in Japan.  The conference itself was being held in the lovely city of Nara, in the south-western Kansai region of Japan.  After surviving the long flight and resting/recovering, I made sure to set aside some time for sightseeing.  As it turned out, I basically had a full free day before the start of the conference.  More detailed accounts of my visit to Nara are most certainly topics for future posts but here I will focus only on my experiences at Todaiji.  

Todaiji Temple is part of Nara"s
World Heritage Site collection.

Nara Park by dusk.

The temple lies in the eastern section of the city inside Nara park, a beautiful area filled with lovely temples and deer.  Lots and lots of deer.  They're quite tame though, and can even be fed by hand if you've got some of the specially made deer crackers sold in the park.

Walking along the main path brings one to the massive Nandaimon (Southern Gate).  Inside the impressive 12th century wooden structure stand two rather fearsome guardian deity statues.

 
If you take a closer look at the pictures, you'll get a sense of just how large the old wooden structure is and how imposing the guardian statues are.  Actually, stepping through the massive gate really set the mood for my eventual visit to the temple itself.  I could really feel the sense of openly passing from the "regular" world into a sacred space.

Typical Nara Park scene.

And what a chaotic sacred space it was.  Japan has one of the world's highest population densities and Japanese tourists are just as enthusiastic in their home country as when they go abroad.  The crush of tourists, perpetually hungry deer, and random monks strewn throughout the park made for a unique atmosphere.  And yet all the noise and activity didn't really distract from the calming atmosphere of the temple grounds.

Passing through the gate, I first payed a visit to the new Todaiji Museum, which is located just past the Nandaimon.  The museum houses many artifacts and some beautiful sculptures and artwork associated not only with Todaiji but with the Kegon Buddhist tradition (more on this later), of which Todaiji is the center.

Even the gentleman's tablet could most
certainly capture Todaji's immensity.

There lies one more gate that one must pass through, or rather go around, before arriving at the central courtyard.  This gate, however, offers a nice preview of Todaiji itself.  The first impression I had when viewing Todaiji from a distance was that it was big.  Really big.  In fact, it's the largest wooden building in the world. Another interesting feature is roof, or rather the two golden, horn-like objects that stick out from it.  Far from being horns, these protrusions are actually fish tails and are a common sight on many Japanese temples.  As fire represented the single greatest danger to the wooden buildings, the fish tails are meant to symbolize protection against  a such calamity.  After all, fish in the water are always wet and don't catch fire, right?

Before describing the interior of the temple, I'll briefly delve into its history and significance.  Construction of the temple was started in the 8th century CE back when Nara was the (first) capital of Japan.  Rebuilt a couple of times after heavy fire damage, the current "smaller" structure dates from the early 1700s and, mind bogglingly enough, is about 1/3rd smaller than the previous structure. 

Models of the present structure (right) from 1709
and the previous, larger one (left) that was
destroyed in a fire.

After dropping a few yen in a donation box and lighting a stick of incense, I made my way toward the temple.  I walked slowly, in part because I wanted to really take in the feeling of approaching this huge, sacred place, and also because it was quite crowded.  As I climbed the steps, I could see a bit of what was inside of the temple and before stepping inside, I took a picture at the entrance.

I found myself holding my breath as I stepped inside.  Once in, I looked up and beheld what was before me.  In that moment, that precious moment, everything had just...stopped.  My breathing, my feet, my thoughts, my hearing, and even time itself perhaps.  In that split second, they had all vanished and were replaced by what I can only poorly describe as  complete and utter awe.  I was truly in the presence of the great Buddha of Todaiji.

Since I can't possibly put into words what it was like to stand before such a figure, I'll just list the statue's physical attributes; height: 14.98 m (49.1 ft), face: 5.33 m (17.5 ft), eyes: 1.02 m (3.3 ft), nose: 0.5 m (1.6 ft), ears: 2.54 m (8.3 ft), mass: 500 tons.  

The statue depicts Vairocana Buddha, who in East Asian Buddhist traditions is associated with the concept of shunyata.  Vairocana Buddha is particularly significant in the Avatamsaka Sutra.  This point is especially relevant for the temple as the Japanese Kegon tradition is derived from the Chinese Hua Yen school.  It, in turn, was more or less based on the teachings of the Avatamsaka Sutra.  This text has had an especially profound influence on me and my practice and this topic is something I have previously written about.  

Returning to the buddha, the massive lotus flower platform that the statue rests on has various selections and scenes from the sutra intricately inscribed on it.  It's a fitting metaphor considering the sutra's famous teachings regarding "atoms in universes and universes within atoms".

The giant Vairocana Buddha does not sit alone in the temple and is flanked by two, also rather large, bodhisattvas.




A more fanciful feature of Todaiji can be found behind the big buddha statue.  One of the temple's wooden pillars has a rectangular hole the size of the buddha statue's nostril carved into it.  According to a local folklore, anyone who can pass through this hole will realize enlightenment in their next life.  During my first visit to the temple, there was a rather long line of people (mostly kids and teenagers) crawling their way to enlightenment.  While some made it through without a hitch, others needed a bit help.

During my last full day in Nara and during a lull in the conference activity, I visited Todaiji once more.  This wasn't a time consuming affair as the conference hall was very conveniently located within Nara park and just a few minutes away from Todajiji.  On a weekday morning the temple was much quieter although certainly not empty (space is never empty in Japan).  As this would be my last visit, I decided to do something special.  To the left of the giant buddha were some small stalls.  Most of them sell souvenirs and temple/Buddhist related paraphernalia but there was one that stood out.  For the reasonable price of ¥1,000 (~$13/€10), one could pay for a single replacement tile to be added on to the temple's roof.  Aside from helping out with Todaiji's preservation, one could also paint a personal message on this tile.  Although I have no clue what the sample tiles had written on them, I could've guessed they were passages from sutras or prayers of various sorts.  After thinking about what to write, I decided on something classical.  I choose the Sanskrit phrase "sarvamangalam", which translates to "happiness to all" or "may all be blessed".  This choice reflected not just my own prayer for all others in the world but also acknowledged how fortunate and blessed I was to have set foot in Todaiji and indeed, Nara itself.

It Was Finally Time...

9/11 Tribute in Light
Memorial (Wikimedia).

As a native son of NYC, the events of 9/11 had a particularly personal impact on me.  It was an attack on my city, my home and not simply an event to be watched on television or read about in a newspaper. This post, however, is not about my own personal experiences of that day but rather of the many days that came after.

The first time I actually visited the remains of the Twin Towers was with a group of friends in 2004.  All of them were from out of town and many really wanted to visit the World Trade Center site.   While a couple were indifferent, I was silently against it.  I had purposely avoided this area in the time after the attacks.  A deep sense of painful aversion came upon me whenever I thought about everything that happened and what remained (or rather didn't).  I didn't want to be face to face with it all.  But not wanting to create an awkward situation, however, I went along nonetheless.

The WTC Site,
2004 (Wikimedia).

When we finally arrived, all of those visceral feelings of unease and sorrow vanished quickly and were replaced with what I saw before me: a big hole.  The debris had long been cleared away and in the middle of lower Manhattan, surrounded by the skyscrapers and high-rises was simply a massive hole.  I left the WTC site that day with feelings that matched what I saw; an empty space within me.

In the time after that visit I carried this sense of emptiness around with me.  It wasn't an active sorrow or depression but a kind of latent mourning for things that were gone and never coming back; the iconic towers themselves but especially all those who had perished.  I decided that I would once again avoid the big hole in lower Manhattan.

Time, however, flowed on and so too did the reconstruction efforts at the WTC site.  Although I would eventually move away from NYC, I kept tabs on the rebuilding efforts via the occasional news story that highlighted the progress.  As the new buildings rose higher, so too did my anticipation and excitement about the newest additions to NYC's skyline.  On an inner level, my feelings of emptiness gradually gave way to its opposite.  Hope.  With the opening of the National September 11 Memorial & Museum in the Fall of 2011 spurring me on, I made my decision. After so many years, it was finally time to confront my feelings.  It was finally time to revisit the WTC site.

1 WTC approaching
completion.

1 WTC and the spire
of St. Paul's Chapel.

My first encounter was actually an unplanned one.  While walking through the area on the way to meet a friend, I couldn't help but notice how quickly 1 WTC was being built.  I also  made a little detour to snap a photo of a small little church, St. Paul's Chapel, across the street from the WTC site.

A few days later my uncle and I made the trip to the memorial.  It was a sunny, unusually warm (for January) morning.  There weren't too many other visitors at this time, which added to the calm atmosphere of the site.

The first things one notices upon entering are the two memorial pools that are situated in the footprints of the towers.  The pools are themselves massive and are meant, in the words of the architect, to "reflect absence".  The sound of the fountains was loud enough to drown out the normal urban noise.  Listening to the flow of the water had an inexplicably calming and soothing effect on me.



















As I made my way through the site, walking around the two memorial pools and reading the names of those lost, I was struck at their sheer variety.  The victims were from so many nationalities, races, and religions.  Aside from reflecting NYC's well known diversity, this point also served as a reminder that the attacks were not a scar on only New Yorkers or Americans but rather the whole world.

St. Paul's Chapel.

After leaving the memorial itself, my uncle and I stopped at St. Paul's Chapel (which is NYC's oldest church) directly across the street from the WTC site.  When the towers fell, St. Paul's managed to survive unscathed.  Not even a single window had been shattered.  In the weeks and months after 9/11, the chapel served as a resting place for relief workers at the site, a true refuge in the middle of the chaos.  Aside from the normal church functions, St. Paul's also houses an exhibit regarding 9/11.  Of particular note are the many, many tribute items on display.  The exhibit itself is called "Healing Hearts and Minds". While standing in middle of St. Paul's, I definitely felt healed.

At one of the entrances to the chapel lies a "pilgrimage alter", an area for people to place tribute items or leave messages.  A decade after 9/11, things are still being left there.  I too decided to leave something as a way of finally making peace with my feelings about 9/11 and finding that sense of closure that had eluded me for so long.  My offering was a rosewood mala with an endless knot on the tassel.  Although not an intentional choice, I found the endless knot to be especially fitting for the occasion.  Sometimes it's obvious and sometimes it's not, and sometimes it's strong and sometimes weak, but we all have a connection with everyone and everything else.   As the famous sage Shantideva famously and eloquently wrote:

"The hand and the other limbs are many and distinct,
But all are one - the body to be kept and guarded.
Likewise, different beings, in their jobs and sorrows,
Are, like me, all one in wanting happiness...

And therefore I'll dispel the pain of others,
For it is simply pain, just like my own.
And others I will aid and benefit,
For they are living beings, like my body.

Since I and other beings both,
In wanting happiness, are equal and alike,
What difference is there to distinguish us,
That I should strive to have my bliss alone?"