Kanyakumari, Tamil Nadu, India

About 30 years ago, I participated in a six-month study program at the University of Mysore in South India. There were about a dozen of us from colleges all over the country. None of us had been to India before and we were quite overwhelmed by everything there.

My first glimpse of India has remained etched in my mind and I can recall it as if it were yesterday. We were coming in for a landing at Delhi and I was glued to the window. Below, at fairly close quarters, I saw a man plowing a field with a camel pulling the plow.

Initially, we stayed in New Delhi for about a week. We occupied six rooms at the local YMCA hotel near Connaught Circle. Only three of them were air-conditioned. As we landed in mid-summer, during the hottest part of the year, we drew straws. I drew a short one; hence, no A/C. This turned out to be good for the looser group as half our team developed a severe case of the sniffles. Neither were we spared entirely. We too would suffer digestive problems.

After a few days of sight-seeing in Delhi and Agra, we set off for Mysore by train. If I remember correctly, we didn’t do it all in one shot. I remember overnighting in Pune. Mysore University was sprawling. We were enrolled in a number of classes including one that was supposed to teach us Kannada, the local language. I’m afraid, our professors did not see much promise in us.

After a couple of weeks, our chaperone announced that we no longer needed to attend classes. We could return home if we wanted – or, we could stay. Nobody wanted to go home. Instead, we decided to travel. Everyone had a different idea about where they wanted to go. We decided to break up into small groups and hit the road to various destinations, always returning to base. Eventually these would evolve into regular odysseys of indefinite duration.

One of my very first ventures was to find Kanyakumari at the tip of India where three oceans meet. A friend and I took a bus and headed south. It took days and days. I remember sitting at the window cursing myself for not having attended to my vision. At one point, the bus stopped and someone pointed out a group of wild elephants crossing a ridge. I could barely make them out.

Eventually we would reach our destination. It looked a place as any other – somewhat isolated and remote. The sea was beautiful to look at.

Thirty years later, my wife and I were visiting Trivandrum – her birth place – and from there it was just another hop-skip-and-a-jump to Kanyakumari (on the map). We decided to go for it. I became concerned when this involved crossing back into Tamil Nadu where we were stopped at the border. I had forgotten to bring my passport. It turned out not to be a problem.

When we finally reached there, I found it was nothing like I remembered it, which was in some ways understandable. A lot can change in thirty years. Mahabalipuram (just south of Chennai) in Tamil Nadu had completely changed, even to the point of being unrecognizable. But there was something else: On two rocky islets just off the shore, southeast of the Kumari Amman Temple, are the Vivekananda Rock Memorial (built in 1970) and the gigantic 133 ft. tall statue of Tamil saint-poet, Thiruvalluvar. I do not remember seeing either of these on my first visit. Neither did I remember seeing islands of any kind.

The mystery remains: Where had we been when my friend and I thought we were there back in ‘72?

Peter Koelliker; pkoelliker8@yahoo.com

Vishnu

The Hindu trinity consists of three gods: Brahma (the creator), Vishnu (the preserver) and Shiva (the destroyer). Of the three, Vishnu and Shiva are the most popular. Temples are built specifically for the worship of either Vishnu or Shiva. One of my previous postings identifies the Kapaleeswarar Temple in Mylapore as a Shiva temple; another identifies the Ashtalakshmi Temple in Chennai as a Vishnu Temple. There are almost no temples dedicated to Brahma.

Vishnu is said to have appeared in nine incarnations. Most of them were killers who came back specifically to kill demons. The first (Matsya), ninth (the Buddha) and tenth (who is yet to appear) are the exception.

This post contains illustrations of six of these. Most pictures were taken at the Naya Tirupathi Temple in Madurantakam (interior Tamil Nadu). Depictions of nine of the Vishnu avatars were featured there. As there is some dispute among the various Vaishnavite sects as to whether or not the Buddha qualifies as one of Vishnu’s avatars, this particular depiction was missing at the Naya Tirupathi Temple.

Peter Koelliker; pkoelliker8@yahoo.com

The ten avatars of Vishnu:
1. Matsya - fish
2. Kurma - Turtle
3. Varaha - Boar
4. Narasingha - man/lion
5. Vamana - dwarf
6. Parasurama - warrior
7. Rama - king
8. Krishna - god
9. Buddha
10. Kalki - horse

Puducherry (Pondicherry), India

Puducherry (formerly known as Pondicherry) is a Union Territory of India. It is a former French colony and the French quarter retains many European characteristics, making it a unique destination on the Indian sub-continent. Unlike in the rest of Tamil Nadu, the street signs are visible and written in both French and Tamil. The streets are laid out in a grid pattern, and each house is numbered with the odds on one side of the street and evens on the other.

The history of Puducherry is convoluted. Suffice it to say, it served as a trading post and was routinely fought over by the French, the British and the Dutch. Accordingly, it changed hands often. The lasting influence however was French. It is the French ex-pats and the French tourists who feel most comfortable here. There are many French restaurants that have resisted taking dangerous forays into (Franco-Indian) fusion cuisine. Additionally, no widespread taboos against beef and pork seem to exist, as the menus of any number of fine restaurants reflect.

Strange too is that in the French sector of the city there are practically no shops to be seen. The buildings appear to be largely residential. Neither, has this part of the city succumbed to the building frenzy so evident in Chennai proper (150 km. to the north). My wife and I have been keeping track of it for several years now and in that time not much seems to have changed other than that the whole city seems to have grown even more prosperous (since its latest name change). The streets are scrupulously clean; the houses are painted in various pastel shades; the gardens are literally bursting over garden walls. We were here just last weekend - in the heat of the summer - when the bougainvillea responds to the heat by becoming almost blindingly brilliant.

There is also a spiritual component to Pondy (as it’s affectionately known). It is in some ways tied to an internationally recognized organized utopian community, based on the writings of a French citizen, commonly referred to as The Mother and her Indian guru, Sri Aurobindo (both now deceased). People from all over the world come to enroll in this community - contributing all they have - to be housed, taught and assigned tasks.

Auroville exhibits some of the elements of a monastic retreat. The community is exceedingly wealthy. Auroville exercises a benign, but considerable (financial) influence over the municipality. There are libraries, yoga and teaching centers and museum/galleries throughout Puducherry that exist in part by virtue of some kind of funding from the Auroville treasury. Perhaps most notable, Auroville has contributed land in the French quarter for what has become one of the foremost Ganesha temples in South India, complete with live elephants.

What struck me most were the gates and doors of Puducherry. Each one was unique in its own way; each one containing a tantalizing mystery. There is also a lovely esplanade with the Bay of Bengal on one side, the city’s oldest colonial heritage buildings on the other. This particular area has had a nice facelift since we were there last. Like the rest of the French quarter, is super clean with waste baskets spaced evenly along the breezy sidewalk. I also noticed a new restaurant named, Le Café, in a modest building, but with a spectacular ocean view. It appears to be run efficiently and can easily claim more customers than any of the other tourist spot we’ve been to lately (it is summer in these parts, after all; and there is a recession that’s still going on, particularly in the West), despite being run by the Government Tourism Board which, here in India (at least), can always be counted on to give good value for your money.

Peter Koelliker; pkoelliker8@yahoo.com

DakshinaChitra Redux: Lord Ayyanar

I recently visited DakshinaChitra again. There is so much to see here, one visit is not nearly enough. This time, their Ayyanar statuary collection caught my eye. Lord Ayyanar is a Hindu village god, worshipped predominantly in the South Indian state of Tamil Nadu and in Tamil villages in Sri Lanka. He is primarily worshipped as a guardian deity who protects the rural villages. His priests are usually non-Brahmins, who belong to mostly the potter caste, but other caste members also officiate in his temples. The temples of Ayyanar are usually flanked by gigantic and colorful statues of him and his companions riding horses or elephants.

The Tamil word Ayyanar (or Aiyanar) is derived from the root word Aiyā which is a title often used by Tamils, Malayalees and Telugus to designate ‘respectable’ people. The word derives from the Proto-Dravidian term denoting an ‘elder brother‘. It is used in that meaning in various South Indian states. Yet some derive the word Aiyā as a Prakrit version of the Sanskrit word ‘Aria’ which means 'noble’.

Interior South Indian villages often exist outside the reach of the central government. Yet for countless generations they have functioned well and effectively based on an emphasis on civic duty, and codes of honor and respect. It is not necessarily a utopian model as we commonly see it in modern communism. Though there are such elements inherent here as well. But rather than an emphasis on a nameless state, it’s power derives organically from an acceptance of the wisdom of elders who perpetuate an appreciation for strict ancestral lineage.

As the agrarian villages have prospered, the Ayyanar statuary came to be painted in bright, modern colors. The DakshinaChitra collection adheres to the older version in which color has yet to been introduced.

Peter Koelliker; pkoelliker8@yahoo.com

Bhramotsavam: Neighborhood Temple Street Festival

Chennai (formerly known as Madras) is the capital of the South Indian state Tamil Nadu which extends all the way down to Cape Comorin on the southern most tip of the sub- continent. It is an amalgam of small towns and villages that are all built together. I am staying barely a five minute’s walk from the beach and the Bay of Bengal. The town’s name is Valmiki Nagar named after the sage who wrote ‘The Ramayana’.

The focal point of Valmiki Nagar is the Marundeeswarar (Shiva) Temple. It has always been at the center of this ancient village. The annual Bhramotsavam is celebrated in March - April. The idol is placed on a specially designed hand-drawn chariot called Thyagarkanai and taken out into the surrounding streets - including the ECR (East Coast Road), a major artery running north-south along the coast - on the 10th, and 11th days of the festival.

What is interesting here is that Bhramotsavam, despite the intensity and fervor with which it is celebrated (even to the point of shops and services in the immediate area shutting down for the duration), is strictly a local happening. Chennai has many temples including the famous Kapaleeswarar Temple in Mylapore, where the cruise ship companies like to take all their paying customers for some local color. Kapaleeswarar has its own festivals in which the idol is taken around the market square in a huge wooden chariot. Louis Malle devotes almost an entire episode to it in his controversial, “Phantom India” (’69) film series. Even in black and white the film conveys a kind of primeval raw devotion as the crowd surges dangerously close to the chariot’s heavy wheels that can only be stopped by wooden chocks thrown in their path.

The series of pictures taken on April 5th ’09 in Valmiki Nagar seeks to remedy the absence of color in Malle’s earlier effort. Though it must be kept in mind that, inasmuch as both temples (Marundeeswarar and Kapaleeswarar) are dedicated to Shiva, Marundeeswarar speaks to his ‘civilized’ nature; the husband of Parvathi; father of Ganesha and Subramaniam, whereas Kapaleeswarar speaks to the wild and unpredictable destroyer of convention; ‘crazed cosmic dancer on the bones of the dead in the graveyard’ aspect of the same god. It is easy to see where Indian’s sympathies come down; why Kapaleeswarar is considered so much more endearing and powerful.

Bhramotsavam this year fell right around Easter. I caught the tail end of a Christian procession as well, but did not have my camera handy. The two dozen or so devotees walked single-file behind a plain, white loudspeaker truck, waving palm leaves. They were all dressed in identical black pants and white shirts.