How old is the temple? Does it matter?

"Please share the Srivaikuntam photos with Girija also--she said she has never been there," I wrote to my sister.  Girija was at a loss when trying to understand how she had never been there, when the distance from Pattamadai to Srivaikuntam is not even 30 miles.

I told her I would send some of my favorite photos from Srivaikuntam.

The temple at Srivaikuntam is at least 1,100 years old.  But then, it could be older, too.

To the locals and the faithful, the age of the temple is immaterial--to them, it has always been there.  But, to an insanely curious person like me, this is a simple question for which detailed answers ought to be there on display boards, in printed materials, ... Could this temple be 1,500 years old? 2,000?  You see what I mean?

Of course, as a confirmed atheist, my interest in this is simply for a better understanding of the world around me and not for any religious salvation. Therefore, it is all the more an irony that here I am as an atheist trying to get the simplest of questions answered, while the true believers don't seem to be interested at all.  Faith doesn't require answers to questions about age.

I was blown away by the complexity of the engineering and art at the temple.  I am one hell of a moron when it comes to anything related to the arts, and even more so when we talk art history.  Yet, yes, mind-blowing!

Lengthy corridors supported by stone columns, each from a single piece. Delicate carving of the stone to produce finely detailed sculptures.

All these done so many years ago.

The temple sculptures have a lot of secular art too--not mere religious ones.

I loved the piece below, which appears to depict a hunter who has returned with a heck of a prize, and perhaps an annoying thorn in the sole of his foot, which the woman is removing.   Simply beautiful.



It seemed that there has been extensive damage to quite a bit of the art in the areas exposed to the harshness that the sun, wind, and rain over the thousand-plus years.  The displays noted that an industrialist/philanthropic family had spent quite some money on renovating the temple.

And then there were art pieces that would make middle school students giggle, and people like me wish that somebody would explain the significance of such wonderful art from so many centuries ago.

In the carving below, there is no doubt about the intention of the bearded male (no, not me!) who seems to be a hermit (no, not me!)



If Pinocchio's nose grew because of lying, well, this hermit's penis appears to reflect his thoughts of sex.

The fingers of the woman's left hand are also strategically placed.

I so wish I had taken art history!

There was a lot more to see, and there is a limit to how much I can take photos too.  If only I had been informed and alert about such fantastic art at temples even when I was way younger!  Youth is certainly wasted on the young :(

One interpretation is that depiction of sex in the art in the outer areas of the temple was to remind the believers to leave their dirty thoughts outside, and enter the holy areas with a mind that was focused only on god.  Maybe.

Another interpretation is that temples were also the local art exhibits where the sculptors displayed their talents. Maybe.

Fascinating fodder for curious minds in a 1,100- or 1,500-year old temple!

The British Raj and I: a love-hate relationship, even at Srivaikuntam

Despite all the traveling I have done over the years, I have never been to the UK.  Not even a stopover at London.  The logistics of transport is one important reason, of course.  A major reason that was.

A minor reason is that I am yet to develop any passion to visit the UK. 

This level of neutrality is a long way from my teenage anger at the imperial masters who sucked India dry.  Those were the young and rebellious years, as opposed to the contemporary old and rebellious years:) 

In this middle-age of mine, I suppose if I had money to spare, I would not be opposed to the idea of visiting London and the UK for a few days.

Traveling around in India always reminds me of my old hate-relationship that has metamorphosed into "meh" feeling about the UK.  The railways, old university and administrative buildings, road names, ... the reminders are everywhere I look.

The strangest reminder was at Srivaikuntam.  Yes, at this sleepy small town way deep down, near the peninsular tip of India. 

A narrow bridge over the Tamrabarani River links to the town to the other side of the riverbank.  One evening, well before the sun set, I walked the mile from my aunt's home to the bridge.  A plaque at the end caught my attention. 

A remnant of the British Raj!

The anicut (river flow regulator) was designed way back in 1853, by a Royal Engineer.  And then a few years to implement the design and construct the anicut, which was completed in 1873.  Back in 1873!

This will yet another example for me to add to the list that I usually provide in classes when I remark that I am thankful it was the British who colonized India, and not the Dutch or the Germans or the French.  If one's fate was to be ruled by a colonial overlord, well, it was better to be under the British because they at least established universities, built anicuts, bridges, and the railways, ...

This anicut/bridge from 1873 serves as a reminder for yet another reason: how much an independent India has failed to build up the infrastructure. 

This narrow bridge has handled people, carts, motorized transport all these years.  As the transport volume grew, there was nothing done to support the much higher traffic. 

Finally, 65 years after independence, a second bridge has been constructed--well, it is nearly complete, and nobody has any idea on when it will be "fully complete" enough for buses and cars to be diverted there.

Perhaps all the more the reason why the hateful attitude towards the British Raj has vaporized over the years, and I am now far more critical of India's government and politics.

If I live long enough to settle into retirement, perhaps then I will even begin to love the UK, eh!

Did you know smartphones have built-in display projectors? I did not know that!

Far away from metropolitan Chennai, which is very slowly becoming cosmopolitan in nature, here in the small southern towns near the southern tip of the peninsula, electricity is in severe shortage with about eight hours of power outage every day.  That sudden darkness and the stopping of ceiling fans is yet another reminder of the phenomenally luxurious everyday life that I am lucky enough to lead back in the good ol' US of A.

The night sky is full of stars as soon as the lights go off.  Venus and Jupiter are so bright that they could even cast shadows of us mortals here on earth. 

This brilliantly lit night sky is, however, nothing compared to the diamonds that glittered after nightfall in Pommern, Tanzania, thanks to that village without electricity being a lot more isolated from the rest of the electrified world.

Kids being kids, they seem to have even more fun than they usually do, when the power goes off.  I bet that the first thing that comes up in their minds is that they have a wonderful excuse not to do their homework!

Yesterday, there was a great deal of noise next door, with kids screaming in delight.  I stepped towards them; it turned out that one kid was projecting a movie from a cell phone on to the wall, with the sound blaring from the cell phone.

Back in my childhood, excitement was when we found a couple of negatives and projected that image on to a wall using a flashlight.  That is so, so, so lame compared to these hi-tech kids' excitement.

When I asked them how they were doing it, an older person in the group replied: "It is my phone and I had no idea that it has such a feature.  These kids, they figure out everything.  It cost me 7,500 rupees for the phone, and now they are using it as a cinema projector"

After the show was over--because the power supply was back on--I walked up to the kid and asked him what phone it was.  "G5" he said.  I didn't recognize that brand name.  I asked him whether I could take a look at it.  It was a G'Five "wisepad" model, and it comes with a bright built-in projector light.  How awesome!

In the US, I had never a smartphone with a projector feature.  Perhaps this is one of those features customized for markets like India--similar to how Nokia had introduced a few years ago a cellphone with a flashlight. 

I imagined my students doing presentations in the classroom with their smartphones and projectors.  No need then to even boot up the big time display projector in the classroom.  Or public health officials in developing countries doing their campaigns so easily with these smartphones and built-in projectors.  Just awesome.

I ought to thank the power shortage in India; else, I might never have known about smartphones with projectors.  Things we learn, and the strange ways we learn.  But, hey, something new everyday!

Even dogs' lives have improved in India!

When I was about eight or nine years old, a puppy strayed into our yard.  Perhaps a six-month old pup.  It ate whatever was thrown out, and seemed to have decided that our yard was his place in life.

One day, when mom gave him--well, tossed to him--something to eat, I remember watching with utmost fascination this puppy seriously digging a hole in the ground, burying this food scrap, and then covering it up.  My first puppy love it was, I suppose :)

In a couple of days, however, it was time for us to travel to Sengottai and Patatmadai for the annual holidays.  That is what we did most summers--we went to grandmas' homes.  We had to board the train at vriddhachalam, which, during my childhood days, felt like a gazillion miles away from Neyveli.

As we started driving, the puppy followed us.  Initially, with the car slowly inching out through the gate and then onto the road, he had no problems keeping up with us.  Then, as the car started accelerating, the pup started racing as fast as he could.  Soon, he fell behind, and was gone from view in no time at all.

For a family that didn't have animals as pets, those couple of days we were a family with a dog.  Every once in a while, during that summer break, I wondered whether the puppy would be waiting for us when we returned.  Of course, that was not the story.

Years later, in the US, I have had dogs at home, but my memory of this first dog has not gotten erased. 

Now, decades after that--almost four decades after that accidental puppy interaction--here I am walking around in some really, really, traditional and old parts of Tamil Nadu.  While stray dogs are everywhere, the kids seem to far too busy with their own lives to even bother the sleeping dogs. 

And then I see this, in an absolutely traditional home in an old street in an old small town of Srivaikuntam:

The door was ajar, and there was a dog happily sitting there watching the comings and goings.  He didn't even bother when I stopped there for a few seconds to take a photo.

If in such a small town, in a traditional part of that town, a dog gets this kind of a treatment, then I can only think that India has changed a lot. For the better.