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Ancient
Indian thought divides time into four
different periods. These durations are
referred to as the Krta; Treta; Dvapara;
and Kali.
The first of these
divisions (Krta), is also known as satya-yuga,
or the Age of Truth. This was a golden
age without envy, malice or deceit,
characterized by righteousness. All
people belonged to one caste, and there
was only one god who lived amongst the
humans as one of them.
In the next span
(Treta-yuga), the righteousness of the
previous age decreased by one fourth.
The chief virtue of this age was knowledge.
The presence of gods was scarce and
they descended to earth only when men
invoked them in rituals and sacrifices.
These deities were recognizable by all.
In the third great
division of time, righteousness existed
only in half measure of that in the
first division. Disease, misery and
the castes came into existence in this
age. The gods multiplied. Men made their
own images, worshipped them, and the
divinities would come down in disguised
forms. But these disguised deities were
recognizable only by that specific worshipper.
Kali-yuga is the
present age of mankind in which we live,
the first three ages having already
elapsed. It is believed that this age
began at midnight between February 17
and 18, 3102 B.C. Righteousness is now
one-tenth of that in the first age.
True worship and sacrifice are now lost.
It is a time of anger, lust, passion,
pride, and discord. There is an excessive
preoccupation with things material and
sexual.

Temples appeared
on the horizon only in the Kali-yuga.
During this existing last phase, temples
(as public shrines), began to be built
and icons installed. But the gods ceased
to come down and appear in their own
or disguised forms. However, their presence
could be felt when the icons were properly
enshrined, and the temples correctly
built. In contrast to the previous periods
when the gods were available to all
equally, now it is only the priests,
belonging to a traditional hierarchy
of professional worshippers, who are
the competent individuals to compel
this presence.
From the contemporary
point of view, temples act as safe haven
where ordinary mortals like us can feel
themselves free from the constant vagaries
of everyday existence, and communicate
personally with god. But our age is
individualistic if nothing else. Each
of us requires our own conception of
the deity based on our individual cultural
rooting. In this context it is interesting
to observe that the word ‘temple,’
and ‘contemplate’ both share
the same origin from the Roman word
‘templum,’ which means a
sacred enclosure. Indeed, strictly speaking,
where there is no contemplation, there
is no temple. It is an irony of our
age that this individualistic contemplative
factor, associated with a temple, is
taken to be its highest positive virtue,
while according to the fact of legend
it is but a limitation which arose due
to our continuous spiritual impoverishment
over the ages. We have lost the divine
who resided amongst us (Krta Yuga),
which is the same as saying that once
man was divine himself.
But this is not to
belittle the importance of the temple
as a center for spiritual nourishment
in our present context, rather an affirmation
of their invaluable significance in
providing succour to the modern man
in an environment and manner that suits
the typical requirements of the age
in which we exist.
Making of the Temple
The first step towards
the construction of a temple is the
selection of land. Even though any land
may be considered suitable provided
the necessary rituals are performed
for its sanctification, the ancient
texts nevertheless have the following
to say in this matter: “The gods
always play where groves, rivers, mountains
and springs are near, and in towns with
pleasure gardens.” Not surprisingly
thus, many of India’s ancient
surviving temples can be seen to have
been built in lush valleys or groves,
where the environment is thought to
be particularly suitable for building
a residence for the gods.
No matter where it
is situated, one essential factor for
the existence of a temple is water.
Water is considered a purifying element
in all major traditions of the world,
and if not available in reality, it
must be present in at least a symbolic
representation in the Hindu temple.
Water, the purifying, fertilizing element
being present, its current, which is
the river of life, can be forded into
inner realization and the pilgrim can
cross over to the other shore (metaphysical).
The practical preparations
for building a temple are invested with
great ritual significance and magical
fertility symbolism. The prospective
site is first inspected for the ‘type,’
of the soil it contains. This includes
determining its color and smell. Each
of these defining characteristics is
divided into four categories, which
are then further associated with one
of the four castes:
- White Soil: Brahmin
- Red Soil: Kshatriya (warrior caste)
- Yellow Soil: Vaishya
- Black Soil: Shudra
Similarly for the
smell and taste:
- Sweet: Brahmin
- Sour: Kshatriya
- Bitter: Vaishya
- Astringent: Shudra (a reminder perhaps
of the raw-deal which they have often
been given in life)
The color and taste
of the soil determines the “caste”
of the temple, i.e., the social group
to which it will be particularly favourable.
Thus the patron of the temple can choose
an auspicious site specifically favourable
to himself and his social environment.
After these preliminary
investigations, the selected ground
needs to be tilled and levelled:
Tilling: When
the ground is tilled and ploughed, the
past ceases to count; new life is entrusted
to the soil and another cycle of production
begins, an assurance that the rhythm
of nature has not been interfered with.
Before laying of the actual foundation,
the Earth Goddess herself is impregnated
in a symbolic process known as ankura-arpana,
ankura meaning seed and arpana signifying
offering. In this process, a seed is
planted at the selected site on an auspicious
day and its germination is observed
after a few days. If the growth is satisfactory,
the land is deemed suitable for the
temple. The germination of the seed
is a metaphor for the fulfilment of
the inherent potentialities which lie
hidden in Mother Earth, and which by
extension are now transferred to the
sacred structure destined to come over
it.
Levelling:
It is extremely important that the ground
from which the temple is to rise is
regarded as being throughout an equal
intellectual plane, which is the significance
behind the levelling of the land. It
is also an indication that order has
been established in a wild, unruly,
and errant world.
Now that the earth
has been ploughed, tilled and levelled,
it is ready for the drawing of the vastu-purusha
mandala, the metaphysical plan of the
temple.
The Metaphysical Architecture of
the Temple
The
basic plan of a Hindu temple is an expression
of sacred geometry where the temple
is visualized as a grand mandala. By
sacred geometry we mean a science which
has as its purpose the accurate laying
out of the temple ground plan in relation
to the cardinal directions and the heavens.
Characteristically, a mandala is a sacred
shape consisting of the intersection
of a circle and a square.
The square shape
is symbolic of earth, signifying the
four directions which bind and define
it. Indeed, in Hindu thought whatever
concerns terrestrial life is governed
by the number four (four castes; the
four Vedas etc.). Similarly, the circle
is logically the perfect metaphor for
heaven since it is a perfect shape,
without beginning or end, signifying
timelessness and eternity, a characteristically
divine attribute. Thus a mandala (and
by extension the temple) is the meeting
ground of heaven and earth.
These considerations
make the actual preparation of the site
and laying of the foundation doubly
important. Understandably, the whole
process is heavily immersed in rituals
right from the selection of the site
to the actual beginning of construction.
Indeed, it continues to be a custom
in India that whenever a building is
sought to be constructed, the area on
which it first comes up is ceremonially
propitiated. The idea being that the
extent of the earth necessary for such
construction must be reclaimed from
the gods and goblins that own and inhabit
that area. This ritual is known as the
‘pacification of the site.’
There is an interesting legend behind
it:
Once
when Shiva was engaged in a fierce battle
with the demon Andhaka, a drop of sweat
fell from Shiva’s forehead to
the ground, accompanied by a loud thunder.
This drop transformed into a ravenously
hungry monster, who attempted to destroy
the three worlds. The gods and divine
spirits, however, rushed at once on
to him and held him down. When the demon
fell on the ground face downwards, the
deities lodged themselves on to the
different parts of his body and pressed
him down. It is because of this reason
that the recumbent individual came to
be known as ‘Vastu,’ which
means the lodgement of the gods. He
is pictured as lying down inside the
mandala with his arms and legs so folded
as to cover the whole area, and his
head pushed into the north-eastern corner
of the square. As many as forty-five
gods are lodged on his body directly
on the limbs and joints.
This vastu-purusha
is the spirit in mother-earth which
needs to be pacified and is regarded
as a demon whose permission is necessary
before any construction can come up
on the site. At the same time, care
is taken to propitiate the deities that
hold him down, for it is important that
he should not get up. To facilitate
the task of the temple-architect, the
vastu-mandala is divided into square
grids with the lodging of the respective
deities clearly marked. It also has
represented on it the thirty-two nakshatras,
the constellations that the moon passes
through on its monthly course. In an
ideal temple, these deities should be
situated exactly as delineated in the
mandala.

Sanctum
of a Hindu Temple
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In the central grid
of the vastu-mandala sits Brahma, the
archetypal creator, endowed with four
faces looking simultaneously in all
directions. He is thus conceived as
the ever-present superintending genius
of the site. At this exact central point
is established the most important structure
of the sacred complex, where the patron
deity of the temple is installed. Paradoxically
this area is the most unadorned and
least decorated part of the temple,
almost as if it is created in an inverse
proportion to its spiritual importance.
Referred to as the sanctum sanctorum,
it is the most auspicious region in
the whole complex. It has no pillars,
windows or ventilators. In addition
to a metaphysical aspect, this shutting
off of air and light has a practical
side to it too. It was meant to preserve
the icon, which, in olden days, was
often made of wood. Also, besides preventing
the ill effects of weathering, the dark
interior adds to the mystery of the
divine presence.
Throughout all subsequent
developments in temple architecture,
however spectacular and grandiose, this
main shrine room remains the small,
dark cave that it has been from the
beginning. Indeed it has been postulated
(both by archaeology and legend), that
the temple developed from the cave-shrine
of the extremely remote past. This is
another instance in Hinduism where the
primitive and the modern, along with
all the developments in-between, can
be seen to co-exist remarkably and peacefully.

Dilwara
Temple, Mount Abu, Rajasthan
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When the devotee
enters a temple, he is actually entering
into a mandala and therefore participating
in a power-field. The field enclosures
and pavilions through which he must
pass to reach the sanctum are symbolic.
They represent the phases of progress
in a man’s journey towards divine
beatitude. In accordance with this scheme
of transition, architectural and sculptural
details vary from phase to phase in
the devotee’s onward movement,
gradually preparing him for the ultimate,
awesome experience, which awaits him
in the shrine.
This process mirrors
the four-phased spiritual evolution
envisaged in yoga, namely the waking
state (jagrat); dream state (swapna);
the state of deep sleep (sushupti);
and finally the Highest state of awareness
known in Sanskrit as turiya. This evolution
takes place as follows:
On reaching the main
gateway, the worshipper first bends
down and touches the threshold before
crossing it. This marks for him the
fact that the transition from the way
of the world to the way of god has been
initiated. Entering the gateway, he
or she is greeted by a host of secular
figures on the outer walls. These secular
images are the mortal, outward and diverse
manifestations of the divinity enshrined
inside. In this lies a partial explanation
behind the often explicit erotic imagery
carved on the outer walls of temples
like those at Khajuraho, where the deity
inside remains untouched by these sensuous
occurrences. Such images awaken the
devotee to his mortal state of existence
(wakefulness). The process of contemplation
has already begun.

As he proceeds, carvings
of mythological themes, legendary subjects,
mythical animals and unusual motifs
abound. They are designed to take one
away from the dull and commonplace reality,
and uplift the worshipper to the dreamy
state.

Chhapri
Temple, Central India
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The immediate pavilion
and vestibule before the icon are restrained
in sculptural decorations, and the prevailing
darkness of these areas are suggestive
of sleep-like conditions.
Finally the shrine,
devoid of any ornamentation, and with
its plainly adorned entrance, leads
the devotee further to the highest achievable
state of consciousness, that of semi-tranquillity
(turiya), where all boundaries vanish
and the universe stands forth in its
primordial glory. It signifies the coming
to rest of all differentiated, relative
existence. This utterly quiet, peaceful
and blissful state is the ultimate aim
of all spiritual activity. The devotee
is now fully-absorbed in the beauty
and serenity of the icon. He or she
is now in the inner square of Brahma
in the vastu- mandala, and in direct
communion with the chief source of power
in the temple.
The thought behind
the design of a temple is a continuation
of Upanishadic analogy, in which the
atman (soul or the divine aspect in
each of us) is likened to an embryo
within a womb or to something hidden
in a cave. Also says the Mundaka Upanishad:
‘The atman lives where our arteries
meet (in the heart), as the spokes of
the wheel meet at the hub.’ Hence,
it is at the heart center that the main
deity is enshrined. Befittingly thus,
this sanctum sanctorum is technically
known as the garba-griha (womb-house).
The garbhagriha is
almost always surrounded by a circumambulatory
path, around which the devotee walks
in a clockwise direction. In Hindu and
Buddhist thought, this represents an
encircling of the universe itself.

Kandariya
Temple Khajuraho
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No description of
the Hindu temple can be complete without
a mention of the tall, often pyramid-like
structure shooting up the landscape
and dominating the skyline.

Temple
of Minakshi, Madurai
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This element of temple
architecture is known as ‘shikhara,’
meaning peak (mountain). It marks the
location of the shrine room and rises
directly above it. This is an expression
of the ancient ideal believing the gods
to reside in the mountains. Indeed,
in South India the temple spire is frequently
carved with images of gods, the shikhara
being conceived as mount Meru, the mythical
mountain-axis of the universe, on the
slopes of which the gods reside.

Temple
of Mahabodhi, Bodhgaya |
In North India too,
it is worthwhile here to note, most
goddess shrines are located on mountain
tops. Since it rises just above the
central shrine, the shikhara is both
the physical and spiritual axis of the
temple, symbolizing the upward aspiration
of the devotee, a potent metaphor for
his ascent to enlightenment.
Conclusion
Man lost the divinity
within himself. His intuition, which
is nothing but a state of primordial
alertness, continues to strive towards
the archetypal perfect state where there
is no distinction between man and god
(or woman and goddess). The Hindu Temple
sets out to resolve this deficiency
in our lives by dissolving the boundaries
between man and divinity. This is achieved
by putting into practice the belief
that the temple, the human body, and
the sacred mountain and cave, represent
aspects of the same divine symmetry.
Truly, the
most modern man can survive only because
the most ancient traditions are alive
in him. The solution to man’s
problems is always archaic. The architecture
of the Hindu temple recreates the archetypal
environment of an era when there was
no need for such an architecture.
References and Further
Reading
- Danielou,
Alain. The Hindu Temple (Deification
of Eroticism): Rochester, 2001.
- Elgood,
Heather. Hinduism and the Religious
Arts: London, 1999.
- Kramrisch,
Stella. The Hindu Temple (2 Vols.):
Delhi, 2002.
- Lundquist,
John M. The Temple (Meeting Place
of Heaven and Earth): London, 1993.
- Marathe,
Kaumudi. Temples of India (Circles
of Stone): Mumbai, 1998.
- Maxwell,
T.S. The Gods of Asia (Image, Text,
and Meaning): New Delhi, 1997.
- Rao, S.K.
Ramachandra. Indian Temple Traditions:
Bangalore, 1997.
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