Murudeshwara temple, dedicated to Lord Shiva, lies in the holy beach town in the Bhatkal Taluk of Uttara Kannada district in the state of Karnataka, India. Situated between the Honnavar and Bhatkal town(about 12kms) The statue of Shiva here is the world's tallest and it lies on the coast of the Arabian Sea.
The Statue of Shiva with Ravana handing Atma Linga to Bramhin boy(Lord Ganesha)
History
The name "Murudeshwara" means Shiva or Eeshwara. The significance of this holy town dates to the time of Ramayana. By penance dedicated to the AtmaLinga, the divine Lingam of Shiva procures invincibility and immortality to the Hindu Gods. Ravana, the Lanka King worshipped Shiva with devotion to attain immortality by obtaining the AtmaLinga. Lord Shiva appeared before Ravana and asked him what he wanted. By this time Lord Vishnu to change Ravana's mind on behest of Narada. As a result of this plot, Ravana asks for Goddess Parvathi, and Lord Shiva offers him.
On his way back to Lanka Narada tricks Ravana that the real Parvathi was in Pathala. So Ravana lets off Parvathi and went to Pathala and marries a king's daughter thinking that she was Parvathi. When he returns back to Lanka his mother then asks for linga. Ravana knowing that he was tricked is angry with Vishnu and meditates to please Lord Shiva.
Lord Shiva appears and Ravana asks for His forgiveness. And this time, Ravana requests the AtmaLinga as his boon. Lord Shiva agreed to give him the boon with a condition that it should never be placed on the ground. It is believed that the AtmaLinga was ever placed on the ground, all the powers would return to Lord Shiva again. Having obtained his boon, Ravana started back on his journey to Lanka.
Sage Narada, realised that with the AtmaLinga, Ravana may obtain immortality and create havoc on earth, approached the Lord Ganesh to help him. As Ravana was nearing Gokarna, Lord Vishnu blocked the sun to make it appear as dusk. Ravana now had to perform his evening rituals but was worried because with the AtmaLinga in his hands, he would not be able to do his rituals. At this time, Lord Ganesh, disguised as a Brahmin boy came near him.
Ravana requested him to hold the AtmaLinga until he performed his puja, and told him not to place it on the ground. Ganesh struck a deal with him saying that he would call Ravana thrice, and if Ravana did not return within that time, he would place the AtmaLinga on the ground.As predicted, before Ravana could return after completing his rituals, Ganesh had already placed the AtmaLinga on the ground. Vishnu then removed his illusion and it was daylight again.
Ravana got really angry that he was tricked and tried to uproot the AtmaLinga and destroy it but could not. In a fit of rage he threw the case covering it to a place called Sajjeshwara, 23 miles away. Then he threw the lid of the case to a placed called Guneshwara (now Gunavanthe)and Dhareshwara, 10-12 miles away. Finally, he threw the cloth covering the AtmaLinga to a placed called Mrideshwara in Kanduka-Giri (Kanduka Hill). Mrideshwara has been renamed to Murudeshwara.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Sringeri Vidyashankara temple
Sringeri is one of the most celebrated pilgrimage centers in Karnataka, and is home to the Sarada Peetham established by the revered spiritual leader Aadi Sankaracharya. Sringeri is located amidst the Sahyadri hills in Chikmaglur district of Karnataka on the left bank of the river Tungabhadra. The nearest railhead is Birur on the Bangalore - Pune railroad. The nearest airport is at Mangalore (150 km). Bangalore is at a distance of 336 km from Sringeri. Near Sringeri, are the Sringagiri hills, said to be the birth place of Sage Rishyasringa.
Vidyashankara of Vidyathirtha, who was the head of this Peetham for a period of 105 years from 1228 CE to 1333 CE is considered to be one of the greatest Gurus of this Peetham.
Vidyaranya who headed the peetham from 1331 CE to 1386 CE was another extraordinary leader, who was instrumental in the establishment of the Vijayanagara Empire, which not only offered stiff resistance to the onslaught of destruction from the invading foreign armies, but also caused the flowering of literary works and great monuments throughout South India andthe preservation of the ancient temple traditions.
This temple combines the Hoysala and Dravida architectural features. It stands on a richly sculptured basement. There are six doorways leading into the temple. The twelve pillars in the mandapam are named the Raasi pillars, and are so arranged that the sun's rays fall on each of them, in the order of the solar months.
Aadi Sankaracharya established the Sarada Peetham here in the 1st millennium CE, and installed an image of Sarada with a Sri Chakra in front of her, and started the Bharati Sampradaya to propagate the philosophy of non dualism. Sankara's disciple Sureshwaracharya was the first head of the Sringeri Peetham.
Vidyashankara of Vidyathirtha, who was the head of this Peetham for a period of 105 years from 1228 CE to 1333 CE is considered to be one of the greatest Gurus of this Peetham.
Vidyaranya who headed the peetham from 1331 CE to 1386 CE was another extraordinary leader, who was instrumental in the establishment of the Vijayanagara Empire, which not only offered stiff resistance to the onslaught of destruction from the invading foreign armies, but also caused the flowering of literary works and great monuments throughout South India andthe preservation of the ancient temple traditions.
The Vidyashankara temple at Sringeri was built in memory of Guru Vidyashankara or Vidyathirtha by Vidyaranya, with the aid of the Vijayanagar rulers in the 14th century. The golden image of Sarada was also installed then at the Sarada temple. The temple also houses ruby images of Venugopala and Srinivasa and a Nandi made out of a large pearl. Several inscriptions are seen in the temple, describing contributions made by the Vijayanagar emperors.
This temple combines the Hoysala and Dravida architectural features. It stands on a richly sculptured basement. There are six doorways leading into the temple. The twelve pillars in the mandapam are named the Raasi pillars, and are so arranged that the sun's rays fall on each of them, in the order of the solar months.
Udupi Krishna Temple
Udupi, the Kokani city is the headquarters of the Udupi District, Karnataka State, India. When one hears the name “Udupi” either “Udupi Krishna” or “Udupi Masala Dosa” comes to the mind. Of course the famous, Krishna temple is located in this city. It also lends its name to the Kannada Vegetarian Cuisine which is famous across the world. This cuisine was developed by Shivalli Madhwa Brahmins who cooked food for Lord Krishna, and at Krishna Matha in Udupi, the food is provided free. The name Udupi is derived from the Tulu language, is associated with a temple at Malpe, devoted to Vadabhandeshwara. According to legend, due to a curse by King Daksha, his 27 daughters (the 27 stars, according to Hindu astrology) were married to the moon and the moon lost its shine. The moon prayed to Lord Shiva to get back its original shine. Lord Shiva was pleased with the moon's prayer and restored its shine.
Legend says that the moon and his wives made their prayer at the Chandramouleeshwara temple at Udupi, creating a linga that can be seen even today. According to this story, therefore, Udupi means the land of the "lord of the stars," the moon.
Udupi is known for the Krishna Mutt (Temple of Lord Krishna). The Krishna Mutt was founded by the Shri Madhvacharya , a Vaishnavite saint in the 13th century. The Ashta Mathas (set of 8 religious organizations manage the temple administration, and the daily sevas. According to legned, the statue of Sri Krishna in the famous temple here is believed to have turned around to give darshana to the kuruba devotee, Kanakadasa , who was not allowed to enter the temple because Kanakadasa belonged to a different caste. Each of the Ashta Mathas performs temple management activities for two years on rotation. During the Paryaya festival, held every two years, the temple management is handed over to the next Matha. Each of the Mathas is headed by a Swami, who will be in charge of the temple during his Paryaya. These eight Mathas are Pejavara, Puttige, Palimaru, Adamaru, Sodhe, Kaniyooru, Shirur and Krishnapura. If one needs to learn the Dvaita or Tatvavaada philosophy, the Krishna Matha is the Gurukul for it. It is also famous for the Daasa Sahitya, a form of literature that originated in Udupi.
Kollur Mookambika Temple
About 135 Kms from Mangalore and 80 Kms from Udupi, in the valley of Kodachadri peak of Western Ghats nestles a serene town Kollur. Here is seat of very famous Mookambika Temple on the banks of the never drying river Sauparnika This attractive Mookambika temple with gold plated crest and copper roofs attracts thousands of devotees.This is a well known temple in the Weat Coast of Karnataka and is one of the most important places of pilgrimage attracting pilgrims from all over India. The temple is dedicated to Mookambika and stands on a spur of the Kodachadri peak. The Goddess Mookambika is in the form of Jyotir-Linga incorporating both Shiva and Shakthi. The Panchaloha image (five element mixed metal) of the Goddess on Shree Chakra is stated to have been consecrated by Adi shankaracharya during his visit to this place. There is an exquisite sculpture of Panchamukha Ganesha. Kollur is regarded as one of the Seven Muktislala pilgrimage sites in Karnataka which are (kollur), Udupi, Subrahmanya, Kumbasi, Kodeshwara, Sankaranarayana and Gokarna.Kollur is known for its association with Aadi Sankara. Mookambika is said to have appeared before Aadi Sankara here, and he is said to have installed her image at this shrine. There is a room near the sanctum - enshrining the Sankara Simhasanam which is regarded as the very spot where he meditated and had a vision of Mookambika. Mookambika is regarded as a manifestation of Shakti, Saraswathi and Mahalakshmi. The Kudashadri hill houses sites such as Ambavanam and Chitramoolam where Adi Sankara isbelieved to have meditated..The temple has been patronised by ancient Hindu Kings and several parts in it are still believed to contain valuable treasures. This was the state temple for the Nagara or Bednore Rajas and many jewels now adorning the idol are said to have been presented by them and by their overlords of Vijayanagar. During the Mahratta raids in this district in the 18th century these freebooters are believed to have carried away gold, silver and gems worth crores of rupees.
The installation of the idol at Mookambika temple has a history as ancient as about 1200 years. As suggested by Rani Chennammaji, the feudal lord by name Halugallu Veera Sangayya has covered the inside of the temple with stone. When we look at the temple structure, we find the sanctorum, then entrance hall and then the Lakshmi Mantapa. There are four pillars at Lakshmi Mantapa and on upper portion of each of these pillars, we find beautifully carved images of various gods There are couple of places worth visiting in the vicinity of the temple. One of them is Arasina Makki, a famous waterfall. The Kudachadri is a very beautifull mountain range and offers a breath taking view of Arabian Sea and attracts a large number of mountaineers and trekkers.A trek to the peak of the Kodchardi and a hike to the Govinda Theertha waterfalls are noteworthy trips from Kollur
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Palakkad - Kerala backwaters
Palakkad Junction, deep inside southern India, is on the border of Tamil Nadu and Kerala. Virgin land, untouched by modernity, it has a rustic charm.
I was scared that I might oversleep and miss my station, and so kept awake all night on the train. There was nothing to see from my window seat. The open fields that in the day were filled with dancing greens and grazing cows now merged seamlessly with the sky in a broad swathe of black. The compartment was full of people. All berths were taken. More people lay on their bundles of cloth near the toilets, where the caged yellow bulbs burned dimly. It was a cold night, and not all windows had glass.
The train slowed for the station, and the sounds of vendors selling morning snacks dissolved into the chaos of songs that devotees, travelling further south to Sabarimala, sang in the general compartment. At four in the morning the sky was still dark. Those who had woken up early rushed to taps on the platform to wash their faces and brush their teeth. I was getting off here. I dragged myself out of the compartment, my shoes untied, hair crumpled, eyes half asleep.
I waited on the platform until the engine whistled into gradual start; the station master waving the green flag. All the hectic morning activity of the platform came to a grinding halt. The next train would arrive five hours later.
It was colder than I had expected. Wind blew from the scarlet skies behind the mountains covered with descending mist. The orange halogen lamps on the platform made me feel dizzy. This was my first destination in Kerala.
The town erupted into activity by ten. Cycles and cycle rickshaws drove by in the narrow brick streets. Crowds gathered in the marketplace with its slippery floor and the smell of freshly caught fish. By the time the sun shone in all its brightness most people were back indoors, in the shady comfort of their slanted-roofed-houses. It was only in the evening that the town came alive again.
Top
This was a strange place. Palakkad's extremes of activity and inactivity seemed to be matched only by its extremes of temperatures. Without a hint, the afternoon heat quickly transformed into an evening chill. When the sky was dark again, the shop lights came on and suddenly there were people all around again. I meandered through some more lanes in the night and returned late to the hotel.
Early next morning I was on my way to Allapuzha or Aleppey, a six hour journey. They call this place the Venice of the East. Tourists come here to see the backwaters of Kerala. They have two options: stay at a resort by the side of the backwaters and take a boat to see the interiors; or take a house boat, and spend the night there. After some hard bargaining (this doesn't come cheap, it cost me two and a half thousand rupees) I was off to a nearby bank from where I would board my houseboat. Surprised faces greeted me, it wasn't often that somebody came alone to stay on a houseboat.
AllepeyThe journey began well enough. I'd missed lunch so I was glad food was served quickly. As we moved on, I began to wonder whether choosing the houseboat over a resort had been wise. The houseboat's appeal was its wooden deck and the cane structure that covered the room but it wasn't exactly luxurious. No lights for one. At least not the ones powered by electricity although there were some kerosene lanterns. And the houseboat had no motor. It was to be rowed all along. After all that bargaining I decided to view it as a completely natural experience.
Top
Despite my new outlook, the murkiness of the water and all the weeds floating around disturbed me. I was reminded of my trip to Sunderbans. Vivid pictures of its green-blue waters and untouched beauty flashed in front of my eyes. I felt that I was missing something. The first few hours of the trip were spent in comparing the two, looking for that something exceptional; something special. But as it happens with all things special in life, I wouldn't find it until I stopped looking. Speeches over, we went out into the maddening heat, crowds, and stalls.
The sky was cloudy and the palm groves across the waters looked black in the shadows of a setting sun. The colours were melting into each other like a watercolour, with the mist providing the halo of a dream. The oars were splashing the waters, the birds were flying home. When we passed an island, there were children playing cricket, and young girls in their finery going somewhere with their mothers. And then there was nothing: just the water, the boat, the islands, the trees, and the sky.
backwaters
There were three other people on the boat: Babu and Shivdas, boatmen both. And Manoj, the chef. Shivdas was about 50 years old, his age betrayed by his grey hair. He wore a light pink shirt, a green lungi and a white turban; and every bit of cloth looked striking on his chocolate brown skin. Babu looked similar, only with a more angelic smile, as his eyes shrank when his teeth showed. Both Babu and Shivdas were from nearby villages and spoke only Malayalam. Manoj knew a little of both Hindi and English. He had worked in Bombay for a couple of years as an AC mechanic. He would get three thousand rupees a month there, but that wasn't enough to meet his expenses. So, here he was, doing a job that gave him thirty rupees a day plus tips from the tourists. Tips, I was made to believe, that were generous.
In this state of Kerala, God's Own Country, there was little development beyond tourism which flourished here attracting tourists from far and wide. Most locals worked on farms, cultivating paddy, bananas and coconut, otherwise they worked for tour operators. The wages were low.
The sun had almost sunk below the horizon, and clouds covered a half moon. Resort lights shone on the distant banks, reflecting in the water underneath. There was silence all around. Only the stray sounds of a passing motor boat filtered through once in a while. November usually heralds winters, but the air betrayed no sign of it. Indeed, a mild breeze brought some comfort from the humidity and the ripples it created swayed the boat in gentle rhythm. I lay on the deck watching the clouds pass over the moon, allowing an occasional glimpse.
backwatersI loved the quiet and I loved the dim light of the lanterns, but I hated my loneliness and I hated my mind for its racing thoughts. Thinking too much sometimes seems like an affliction with me. To wonder why I live, to wonder if life is just passing me by, sometimes leaves me all too disturbed. I wish I could just stop thinking so much some day. But such thoughts kept me occupied until dinner was served on the deck. Keralite food turned out to be more delicious than I had expected.
I lay on the deck until late that night. Manoj saw my Walkman and wanted to hear songs. He sat by my side while Babu and Shivdas chatted away at the other end of the boat. Late in the night I went into the boat-room and tried to sleep there. Manoj had warned me about fishermen from nearby villages who would come in the night to see if they could pick up anything. Consequently, only one window could be kept open. The night was spent battling the humidity and the mosquitoes. I hardly slept. Each time I would drift into a dream a mosquito would buzz in my ear. The mosquitoes ensured that I was awake before dawn. I walked out on the deck to much chillier temperatures. The clouds still covered the sky and there was no view of the sunrise to the east. But the view around was beautiful. Serene. The freshness of the air, the rippling of the waves - it was as it had been the evening before; and yet it was different. My senses seemed to melt away into the beauty that surrounded me. Something within me reminded me that I was part of this creation, this beauty all around, what I saw was part of me too. Like the mosquitoes, all my disturbing thoughts had suddenly vanished.
For a while, I lay on the deck with eyes wide open. I didn't even realise when sleep took over. Manoj woke me for breakfast after the most refreshing nap I have had in a long time. It was about eight in the morning and time to move on. Time to explore the backwaters of Kerala in greater depth.
All around was green. There were palm groves, banana trees and paddy fields. As we moved on I saw birds and flowers, mostly crimson red flowers. There were stray islands, small ones, dense with trees growing into each other, climbers hanging out into waters. There were small huts in the passing villages. Fishermen in their boats with nets under the water, were working for their daily catch. And there were these thin small boats, Vallum, similar to canoes.
We moved on to a boat repair yard - just a tin shed by the side of a smallish house. Here I finally found someone willing to lend us their Vallum. Manoj and I drifted off in one. It was scary to start with: a slight shift in weight on either side and we would both be in the water. Soon, however, we settled into the boat and were one with the lake. I was actually sitting below the water level. I could reach out and trail my hand through the water. We moved through the water lilies and I plucked one. This was the clearest water I had seen in the entire place yet; clear enough to be able to spot the small black fish.
Half an hour of rowing left us tired, but it also left me wanting more. The lake was calling out to tell me that I wanted more of it. That it wanted more of me. It urged me to take a plunge, to feel its water on my skin, to unravel its beauty, deep inside. The lake had a strange charm, mysterious and sublime; a charm that I just could not resist. In those waters I swam like fish. I saw the pebbles at the bottom and the moss that grew on them. I saw the small black fish float by me. And, when I swam facing the sky, I saw the towering palms bowing to me, and paying obeisance to the lake. I saw the clouds filter the light enough so that it would not hurt my eyes. Every splash that I made broke the silence, and yet it was the rhythm to which my soul danced.
This lake was what life was about. About getting deep inside, about taking what came along, about absorbing the richness of the moment in its entirety. Like swimming, like flying, like dancing, like meditation. I had to dip myself in it, surrender to it. Completely. There were no boundaries, no limits.
When my body could take no more, I returned to the deck. I lay on the polished wood, warmed by a now blazing sun. My eyelids battled exhaustion for a while, unwilling to miss any glimpse of the beauty around, but sleep gently took over yet again.
Soon Manoj, Babu and Shivdas, the sky and the palm trees, the water lilies, the paddy fields, the dimly lit lanterns in the quiet of the night and the rippling, charming waters would all be part of memory; etched in a corner of my heart. I would be on a bus to Cochin; my skin a deeper shade of chocolate brown.
I was scared that I might oversleep and miss my station, and so kept awake all night on the train. There was nothing to see from my window seat. The open fields that in the day were filled with dancing greens and grazing cows now merged seamlessly with the sky in a broad swathe of black. The compartment was full of people. All berths were taken. More people lay on their bundles of cloth near the toilets, where the caged yellow bulbs burned dimly. It was a cold night, and not all windows had glass.
The train slowed for the station, and the sounds of vendors selling morning snacks dissolved into the chaos of songs that devotees, travelling further south to Sabarimala, sang in the general compartment. At four in the morning the sky was still dark. Those who had woken up early rushed to taps on the platform to wash their faces and brush their teeth. I was getting off here. I dragged myself out of the compartment, my shoes untied, hair crumpled, eyes half asleep.
I waited on the platform until the engine whistled into gradual start; the station master waving the green flag. All the hectic morning activity of the platform came to a grinding halt. The next train would arrive five hours later.
It was colder than I had expected. Wind blew from the scarlet skies behind the mountains covered with descending mist. The orange halogen lamps on the platform made me feel dizzy. This was my first destination in Kerala.
The town erupted into activity by ten. Cycles and cycle rickshaws drove by in the narrow brick streets. Crowds gathered in the marketplace with its slippery floor and the smell of freshly caught fish. By the time the sun shone in all its brightness most people were back indoors, in the shady comfort of their slanted-roofed-houses. It was only in the evening that the town came alive again.
Top
This was a strange place. Palakkad's extremes of activity and inactivity seemed to be matched only by its extremes of temperatures. Without a hint, the afternoon heat quickly transformed into an evening chill. When the sky was dark again, the shop lights came on and suddenly there were people all around again. I meandered through some more lanes in the night and returned late to the hotel.
Early next morning I was on my way to Allapuzha or Aleppey, a six hour journey. They call this place the Venice of the East. Tourists come here to see the backwaters of Kerala. They have two options: stay at a resort by the side of the backwaters and take a boat to see the interiors; or take a house boat, and spend the night there. After some hard bargaining (this doesn't come cheap, it cost me two and a half thousand rupees) I was off to a nearby bank from where I would board my houseboat. Surprised faces greeted me, it wasn't often that somebody came alone to stay on a houseboat.
AllepeyThe journey began well enough. I'd missed lunch so I was glad food was served quickly. As we moved on, I began to wonder whether choosing the houseboat over a resort had been wise. The houseboat's appeal was its wooden deck and the cane structure that covered the room but it wasn't exactly luxurious. No lights for one. At least not the ones powered by electricity although there were some kerosene lanterns. And the houseboat had no motor. It was to be rowed all along. After all that bargaining I decided to view it as a completely natural experience.
Top
Despite my new outlook, the murkiness of the water and all the weeds floating around disturbed me. I was reminded of my trip to Sunderbans. Vivid pictures of its green-blue waters and untouched beauty flashed in front of my eyes. I felt that I was missing something. The first few hours of the trip were spent in comparing the two, looking for that something exceptional; something special. But as it happens with all things special in life, I wouldn't find it until I stopped looking. Speeches over, we went out into the maddening heat, crowds, and stalls.
The sky was cloudy and the palm groves across the waters looked black in the shadows of a setting sun. The colours were melting into each other like a watercolour, with the mist providing the halo of a dream. The oars were splashing the waters, the birds were flying home. When we passed an island, there were children playing cricket, and young girls in their finery going somewhere with their mothers. And then there was nothing: just the water, the boat, the islands, the trees, and the sky.
backwaters
There were three other people on the boat: Babu and Shivdas, boatmen both. And Manoj, the chef. Shivdas was about 50 years old, his age betrayed by his grey hair. He wore a light pink shirt, a green lungi and a white turban; and every bit of cloth looked striking on his chocolate brown skin. Babu looked similar, only with a more angelic smile, as his eyes shrank when his teeth showed. Both Babu and Shivdas were from nearby villages and spoke only Malayalam. Manoj knew a little of both Hindi and English. He had worked in Bombay for a couple of years as an AC mechanic. He would get three thousand rupees a month there, but that wasn't enough to meet his expenses. So, here he was, doing a job that gave him thirty rupees a day plus tips from the tourists. Tips, I was made to believe, that were generous.
In this state of Kerala, God's Own Country, there was little development beyond tourism which flourished here attracting tourists from far and wide. Most locals worked on farms, cultivating paddy, bananas and coconut, otherwise they worked for tour operators. The wages were low.
The sun had almost sunk below the horizon, and clouds covered a half moon. Resort lights shone on the distant banks, reflecting in the water underneath. There was silence all around. Only the stray sounds of a passing motor boat filtered through once in a while. November usually heralds winters, but the air betrayed no sign of it. Indeed, a mild breeze brought some comfort from the humidity and the ripples it created swayed the boat in gentle rhythm. I lay on the deck watching the clouds pass over the moon, allowing an occasional glimpse.
backwatersI loved the quiet and I loved the dim light of the lanterns, but I hated my loneliness and I hated my mind for its racing thoughts. Thinking too much sometimes seems like an affliction with me. To wonder why I live, to wonder if life is just passing me by, sometimes leaves me all too disturbed. I wish I could just stop thinking so much some day. But such thoughts kept me occupied until dinner was served on the deck. Keralite food turned out to be more delicious than I had expected.
I lay on the deck until late that night. Manoj saw my Walkman and wanted to hear songs. He sat by my side while Babu and Shivdas chatted away at the other end of the boat. Late in the night I went into the boat-room and tried to sleep there. Manoj had warned me about fishermen from nearby villages who would come in the night to see if they could pick up anything. Consequently, only one window could be kept open. The night was spent battling the humidity and the mosquitoes. I hardly slept. Each time I would drift into a dream a mosquito would buzz in my ear. The mosquitoes ensured that I was awake before dawn. I walked out on the deck to much chillier temperatures. The clouds still covered the sky and there was no view of the sunrise to the east. But the view around was beautiful. Serene. The freshness of the air, the rippling of the waves - it was as it had been the evening before; and yet it was different. My senses seemed to melt away into the beauty that surrounded me. Something within me reminded me that I was part of this creation, this beauty all around, what I saw was part of me too. Like the mosquitoes, all my disturbing thoughts had suddenly vanished.
For a while, I lay on the deck with eyes wide open. I didn't even realise when sleep took over. Manoj woke me for breakfast after the most refreshing nap I have had in a long time. It was about eight in the morning and time to move on. Time to explore the backwaters of Kerala in greater depth.
All around was green. There were palm groves, banana trees and paddy fields. As we moved on I saw birds and flowers, mostly crimson red flowers. There were stray islands, small ones, dense with trees growing into each other, climbers hanging out into waters. There were small huts in the passing villages. Fishermen in their boats with nets under the water, were working for their daily catch. And there were these thin small boats, Vallum, similar to canoes.
We moved on to a boat repair yard - just a tin shed by the side of a smallish house. Here I finally found someone willing to lend us their Vallum. Manoj and I drifted off in one. It was scary to start with: a slight shift in weight on either side and we would both be in the water. Soon, however, we settled into the boat and were one with the lake. I was actually sitting below the water level. I could reach out and trail my hand through the water. We moved through the water lilies and I plucked one. This was the clearest water I had seen in the entire place yet; clear enough to be able to spot the small black fish.
Half an hour of rowing left us tired, but it also left me wanting more. The lake was calling out to tell me that I wanted more of it. That it wanted more of me. It urged me to take a plunge, to feel its water on my skin, to unravel its beauty, deep inside. The lake had a strange charm, mysterious and sublime; a charm that I just could not resist. In those waters I swam like fish. I saw the pebbles at the bottom and the moss that grew on them. I saw the small black fish float by me. And, when I swam facing the sky, I saw the towering palms bowing to me, and paying obeisance to the lake. I saw the clouds filter the light enough so that it would not hurt my eyes. Every splash that I made broke the silence, and yet it was the rhythm to which my soul danced.
This lake was what life was about. About getting deep inside, about taking what came along, about absorbing the richness of the moment in its entirety. Like swimming, like flying, like dancing, like meditation. I had to dip myself in it, surrender to it. Completely. There were no boundaries, no limits.
When my body could take no more, I returned to the deck. I lay on the polished wood, warmed by a now blazing sun. My eyelids battled exhaustion for a while, unwilling to miss any glimpse of the beauty around, but sleep gently took over yet again.
Soon Manoj, Babu and Shivdas, the sky and the palm trees, the water lilies, the paddy fields, the dimly lit lanterns in the quiet of the night and the rippling, charming waters would all be part of memory; etched in a corner of my heart. I would be on a bus to Cochin; my skin a deeper shade of chocolate brown.
Cochin - in god's own country
Cochin is the largest city in Kerala with a population of 5.5 lakhs. An all weather harbour, Cochin is an important centre for commerce and industry. It has a maritime history that began in the remote past. The Portuguese, the Dutch and the English had established themselves here at one time or the other. In fact Cochin fort was built by the Portuguese with the permission of the local ruler.
Cochin consists of mainland Ernakulam, Willington island, Fort Cochin - Mattancherry peninsula, Bolgatty and Gundu and Vypeen island.
Cochin can be reached either by plane, by road or by train (All trains from Trivandrum to Delhi, Bombay, Madras, Bangalore and Mangalore pass through Ernakulam). Cochin is 67 kms from Kottayam and 63 kms along the coast from Alleppey.
Kerala State Tourism Development Corporation has 2 conducted tours that touch upon both old and new Cochin.
What to see: St.Francis Church This Protestant church was built by the Portuguese circa 1510 A.D. and is also the oldest church built by the Europeans in India. Vasco-da-Gama's gravestone is located here though his mortal remains were taken back to Portugal several years later. Originally the church was built of wood. Later it was demolished and rebuilt in stone, probably after 150 years. The Dutch and the English were also masters of the church during their occupation of Cochin. It is now a part of the church of South India.
Cochin Fort This fort was built by the Portuguese in 1503 A.D. and is at the entrance to the port. The spiderly Chinese nets at the entrance to the harbour, forming a silhoutte against the sky creates an ethereal picture.
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Santa Cruz Church This cathedral was also built by the Portuguese in the 16th century. Strangely enough it was blown up by the English in 1795 A.D. in their anxiety to prevent the Dutch from occupying it. It was renovated subsequently.
Bolgatty island This picturesque island has a palace built by the Dutch in 1744 A.D. which is now run as a hotel by the Kerala Tourism Development Corporation.
Places of interest in the vicinity
Alwaye This industrial town is at a distance of 23 kms from Ernakulam. The river Periyar and the Shiva temple are its attractions. Kaladi Kaladi which is also on the banks of the Periyar river is 19 kms away from Alwaye. This is the birth place of the great Indian philosopher Adi Sankaracharya. There are two shrines here one dedicated to this monotheist and the other to Goddess Sharada (Goddess of learning).
Cranganore Once the capital of the Cherman Perumals, Cranganore is 32 kms away from Cochin. A mosque, said to be the oldest in India, a fort built by the Portuguese and the famous Bhagwathi temple are the tourist attractions here.
Kodanad This elephant training centre is situated on the banks of the Periyar river, 52 kms from Ernakulam.
Kallil Temple This rock-cut temple of the Jains is at a distance of 13 kms from Perambarur. It has a statue of Mahavira, the founder of Jainism, carved out of a rock.
Jewish Synagogue This magnificent prayer hall was constructed in 1568 A.D. and is the oldest Synagogue in the Commonwealth. The original building was destroyed in 1662 A.D. due to shelling by the Portuguese. It was rebuilt a few years later.
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There are hand painted tiles imported from China in the middle of the 18th century by a business man named Ezekial Rahabi who erected a clock tower at the top of the building. Scrolls of the old testament are preserved here. On view is also the copper plates inscribed in ancient Hebrew script by which Ravi Varma I granted a village Anjuvannam to a Jewish merchant. .
The Synagogue is open from 10 a.m to 12 noon and 3 p.m to 5 p.m except on Saturdays and Jewish holidays. There is no entrance fee.
Butch Palace, Mattancherry This palace was actually built by the Portuguese in 1557 A.D. and gifted to Veera Kerala Varman, the then ruler of Cochin, probably to seek trading favours. However the Dutch undertook the renovation of this two storeyed quadrangular building after 1663 A.D. Since then it has been referred to as the Dutch Palace. It is also known as Mattancherry Palace by virtue of its locality.
The coronation of the kings used to take place in the central courtyard of the palace. Some of the royal possessions such as dresses, turbans and palanquins are displayed here. The most attractive aspect of the palace is the extensive range of murals depicting scenes from the Hindu epics.
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Khe palace is open Monday through Saturday from 8.30 a.m. to 12.30 p.m. and again from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m.
Cochin consists of mainland Ernakulam, Willington island, Fort Cochin - Mattancherry peninsula, Bolgatty and Gundu and Vypeen island.
Cochin can be reached either by plane, by road or by train (All trains from Trivandrum to Delhi, Bombay, Madras, Bangalore and Mangalore pass through Ernakulam). Cochin is 67 kms from Kottayam and 63 kms along the coast from Alleppey.
Kerala State Tourism Development Corporation has 2 conducted tours that touch upon both old and new Cochin.
What to see: St.Francis Church This Protestant church was built by the Portuguese circa 1510 A.D. and is also the oldest church built by the Europeans in India. Vasco-da-Gama's gravestone is located here though his mortal remains were taken back to Portugal several years later. Originally the church was built of wood. Later it was demolished and rebuilt in stone, probably after 150 years. The Dutch and the English were also masters of the church during their occupation of Cochin. It is now a part of the church of South India.
Cochin Fort This fort was built by the Portuguese in 1503 A.D. and is at the entrance to the port. The spiderly Chinese nets at the entrance to the harbour, forming a silhoutte against the sky creates an ethereal picture.
top
Santa Cruz Church This cathedral was also built by the Portuguese in the 16th century. Strangely enough it was blown up by the English in 1795 A.D. in their anxiety to prevent the Dutch from occupying it. It was renovated subsequently.
Bolgatty island This picturesque island has a palace built by the Dutch in 1744 A.D. which is now run as a hotel by the Kerala Tourism Development Corporation.
Places of interest in the vicinity
Alwaye This industrial town is at a distance of 23 kms from Ernakulam. The river Periyar and the Shiva temple are its attractions. Kaladi Kaladi which is also on the banks of the Periyar river is 19 kms away from Alwaye. This is the birth place of the great Indian philosopher Adi Sankaracharya. There are two shrines here one dedicated to this monotheist and the other to Goddess Sharada (Goddess of learning).
Cranganore Once the capital of the Cherman Perumals, Cranganore is 32 kms away from Cochin. A mosque, said to be the oldest in India, a fort built by the Portuguese and the famous Bhagwathi temple are the tourist attractions here.
Kodanad This elephant training centre is situated on the banks of the Periyar river, 52 kms from Ernakulam.
Kallil Temple This rock-cut temple of the Jains is at a distance of 13 kms from Perambarur. It has a statue of Mahavira, the founder of Jainism, carved out of a rock.
Jewish Synagogue This magnificent prayer hall was constructed in 1568 A.D. and is the oldest Synagogue in the Commonwealth. The original building was destroyed in 1662 A.D. due to shelling by the Portuguese. It was rebuilt a few years later.
top
There are hand painted tiles imported from China in the middle of the 18th century by a business man named Ezekial Rahabi who erected a clock tower at the top of the building. Scrolls of the old testament are preserved here. On view is also the copper plates inscribed in ancient Hebrew script by which Ravi Varma I granted a village Anjuvannam to a Jewish merchant. .
The Synagogue is open from 10 a.m to 12 noon and 3 p.m to 5 p.m except on Saturdays and Jewish holidays. There is no entrance fee.
Butch Palace, Mattancherry This palace was actually built by the Portuguese in 1557 A.D. and gifted to Veera Kerala Varman, the then ruler of Cochin, probably to seek trading favours. However the Dutch undertook the renovation of this two storeyed quadrangular building after 1663 A.D. Since then it has been referred to as the Dutch Palace. It is also known as Mattancherry Palace by virtue of its locality.
The coronation of the kings used to take place in the central courtyard of the palace. Some of the royal possessions such as dresses, turbans and palanquins are displayed here. The most attractive aspect of the palace is the extensive range of murals depicting scenes from the Hindu epics.
top
Khe palace is open Monday through Saturday from 8.30 a.m. to 12.30 p.m. and again from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Maha Kumbha Haridwar 2010
Maha Kumbh is celebrated at Haridwar once in every 12 years. The great bathing festival of the Kumbh Mela at Haridwar is in now in this year - 2010.
Some Hindus also believe life is incomplete without taking a bath in Ganges at least once in their lives. Many Hindu families keep a vial of water from the Ganges in their house.
Ceremonial bathing in the sacred Ganga as she descends from her celestial home to journey through the Himalayas to the plains of India, is a sacred ritual from time immemorial. The Kumbh Snan Parva is much more significant than a ritualistic dip in the holy river. It is a tribute to the Hindu way of life, an affirmation of faith and a renewal of our deep-seated beliefs. The holy bath at a Kumbha is said to be equal in merit to thousands of snans during the month of Kartik, hundreds of Magh snans and crore snan in the river Narmada during Vaishakh. It's fruit is said to be equivalent to thousands of Ashwamegh Yajna *, hundreds of Vajpaye Yajna, and lakhs of parikrama around the world.
* The Ashvamedha was one of the most important royal rituals of Vedic religion, described in detail in the Yajurveda (TS 7.1-5, VSM 22–25[1] and the pertaining commentary in the Shatapatha Brahmana ŚBM 13.1–5). The Rigveda does have descriptions of horse sacrifice, notably in hymns RV 1.162-163 (which are themselves known as aśvamedha), but does not allude to the full ritual according to the Yajurveda.
At Haridwar, there are many bathing ghats, the chief one being at Har Ki Pauri. It is said to have been constructed by King Vikramaditya in memory of his brother, Bhartrihari, who is believed to have come to Haridwar to meditate on the banks of the sacred Ganga. While some historians date Vikramaditya�s reign as first century BC others suggest it was in the sixth century AD. This bathing ghat is also known as Brahmakund Ghat. The other well-known ghats in Haridwar are Ram Ghat, Vishnu Ghat, Asthi Parwah Ghat , where the ashes of the deceased are immersed, Subhash Ghat named after Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, and Gau Ghat where the sin of gau-hatta or cow slaughter is atoned for.
The Kumbh is mythologically related to the churning of the oceans to extract amrit or the nectar of immortality. The devatas or gods and the asuras or demons, together churned the oceans. The pot of ambrosia was handed to Brihaspati, (Jupiter) Surya,(Sun) Chandra (Moon) and Shani (Saturn). In the process of the ensuing tussle to get it, which lasted 12 god-days, equal to 12 human years, a few drops spilled from the kumbh or pitcher in which the Amrita was being carried. This nectar fell at Allahabad, Haridwar, Nasik and Ujjain, sanctifying these places.
The Kumbha Mela is held at these four sacred places - on the banks of the holy Ganga at Haridwar where it descends from the mighty Himalayas to the plains of India, at the confluence of the Ganga, Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati called the Triveni Sangam at Prayag or Allahabad, beside the river Kshipra at Ujjain and on the banks of the Godavari at Nasik.
At each of the four places the Kumbh festival is celebrated once every twelve years, coinciding with one round of Jupiter through the zodiac. Since the three cosmic powers played their role, the Kumbha is celebrated when Jupiter, the Sun and Moon are in particular astrological positions in the almanac.
When Jupiter is in in the sign of Aquarius, when the sun is in Aries and Moon is in Sagittarius, the Auspicious Kumbh at Haridwar occurs. When Jupiter is in Taurus and the Sun and Moon in Capricorn, it is celebrated at Prayag or Allahabad. At Nasik it is held when Jupiter is in Leo and the Sun and Moon are in Cancer. At Ujjain the Kumbh Mela occurs when Jupiter is in Leo and the Sun and Moon in Aries.
Some Hindus also believe life is incomplete without taking a bath in Ganges at least once in their lives. Many Hindu families keep a vial of water from the Ganges in their house.
Ceremonial bathing in the sacred Ganga as she descends from her celestial home to journey through the Himalayas to the plains of India, is a sacred ritual from time immemorial. The Kumbh Snan Parva is much more significant than a ritualistic dip in the holy river. It is a tribute to the Hindu way of life, an affirmation of faith and a renewal of our deep-seated beliefs. The holy bath at a Kumbha is said to be equal in merit to thousands of snans during the month of Kartik, hundreds of Magh snans and crore snan in the river Narmada during Vaishakh. It's fruit is said to be equivalent to thousands of Ashwamegh Yajna *, hundreds of Vajpaye Yajna, and lakhs of parikrama around the world.
* The Ashvamedha was one of the most important royal rituals of Vedic religion, described in detail in the Yajurveda (TS 7.1-5, VSM 22–25[1] and the pertaining commentary in the Shatapatha Brahmana ŚBM 13.1–5). The Rigveda does have descriptions of horse sacrifice, notably in hymns RV 1.162-163 (which are themselves known as aśvamedha), but does not allude to the full ritual according to the Yajurveda.
At Haridwar, there are many bathing ghats, the chief one being at Har Ki Pauri. It is said to have been constructed by King Vikramaditya in memory of his brother, Bhartrihari, who is believed to have come to Haridwar to meditate on the banks of the sacred Ganga. While some historians date Vikramaditya�s reign as first century BC others suggest it was in the sixth century AD. This bathing ghat is also known as Brahmakund Ghat. The other well-known ghats in Haridwar are Ram Ghat, Vishnu Ghat, Asthi Parwah Ghat , where the ashes of the deceased are immersed, Subhash Ghat named after Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose, and Gau Ghat where the sin of gau-hatta or cow slaughter is atoned for.
The Kumbh is mythologically related to the churning of the oceans to extract amrit or the nectar of immortality. The devatas or gods and the asuras or demons, together churned the oceans. The pot of ambrosia was handed to Brihaspati, (Jupiter) Surya,(Sun) Chandra (Moon) and Shani (Saturn). In the process of the ensuing tussle to get it, which lasted 12 god-days, equal to 12 human years, a few drops spilled from the kumbh or pitcher in which the Amrita was being carried. This nectar fell at Allahabad, Haridwar, Nasik and Ujjain, sanctifying these places.
The Kumbha Mela is held at these four sacred places - on the banks of the holy Ganga at Haridwar where it descends from the mighty Himalayas to the plains of India, at the confluence of the Ganga, Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati called the Triveni Sangam at Prayag or Allahabad, beside the river Kshipra at Ujjain and on the banks of the Godavari at Nasik.
At each of the four places the Kumbh festival is celebrated once every twelve years, coinciding with one round of Jupiter through the zodiac. Since the three cosmic powers played their role, the Kumbha is celebrated when Jupiter, the Sun and Moon are in particular astrological positions in the almanac.
When Jupiter is in in the sign of Aquarius, when the sun is in Aries and Moon is in Sagittarius, the Auspicious Kumbh at Haridwar occurs. When Jupiter is in Taurus and the Sun and Moon in Capricorn, it is celebrated at Prayag or Allahabad. At Nasik it is held when Jupiter is in Leo and the Sun and Moon are in Cancer. At Ujjain the Kumbh Mela occurs when Jupiter is in Leo and the Sun and Moon in Aries.
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