The Labyrinth in Lucknow

While Benares, where the author has been for the last month, is a resoundingly Hindoo city, Lucknow, further to the north, is the premiere city of Shia Mahometans in India. The author journeyed there over the New Year. It was once the capital of the great fiefdom of the Nawab of Ood and has a distinctive culture celebrated for its fine manners and genteel ambience. Today, of course, it is a sprawling Indian mess but much of the old city, marked by various medieval gates, is still intact. In particular, the central mosques and the great centre of Shi'ite learning - the Imambara (theological college) - is especially well-preserved and an inspiring complex of architecture that is quite different to that of the (Sunni) Moghuls. The Nawabs of Ood were cultured and benevolent, if indulgent, men and embarked upon vast building projects, reputedly as a means of providing work for their hungry citizens during lean times. 

View from the roof of the Imambara

The truly unique feature of the Imambara (the big one, not the smaller complex further down the road, also called 'Imambara'), and reason enough to visit there, is in the ceiling of its main hall. The architect, Khifayatullah, has seen fit to build an elborate labyrinth (more correctly, it's a maze) into the upper levels of the building, supposedly to thwart would-be intruders. It is said that only he and the Nawab knew the path through it. Today it is open to the public, and the author spent several hours of a warm winter afternoon - New Year's Day - stumbling around in the tangle of halls and corridors and stairways that constitute the 'Bhul Bhulaiya' as it is known. 

During the daytime it is not impossibly difficult to navigate, since one can follow the light and keep taking paths back to the outside of the building, but during the night it would be diabolical. Many corridors lead to dead ends, but others lead to precipitous drops. As it is, the author found himself completely lost within a few turns and on several occasions had to return to the roof of the building to re-orient himself. As a labyrinth it is certainly effective and mysterious, even if on Friday afternoons - after the communal prayer, which is when the author was there - it is crowded with groups of teenagers squealing and giggling at the thrill of being lost. 

The following are some of the author's pictures of the labyrinth and should give readers a sense of the structure. There are, they say, some 500 doorways in the complex. The labyrinth works by offering stairwells up or down at strategic places. If you take the stairs up when you should have taken them down, you're lost. 

Why Benares is sacred

Benares is older than history, older than tradition, older even than legend – and it looks twice as old as all of them put together.

- Mark Twain

The sanctity of Benares extends back into the historical past and well beyond. Human occupation at this location – on the west bank of the Ganges river between the Varang River in the north and the Asi River at the south (hence Varan-asi = between the Varang and the Asi) has been continuous for over 3000 years at least, and throughout that time it has always been regarded as a sacred place. Hindoos regard it as the most sacred city in India, the city that is itself a prayer, the city of Shiva.

What, though, makes it sacred? Why is this particular location especially holy? The entire Ganges River – Mother Ganga - is sacred, of course, but this particular area of the river is regarded as most sacred of all. Why?

One can read many explanations, most of them mythological, and most of them unhelpful. It was not until the present author actually came to the city and looked at its location – its topography – and experienced it as a place, that the answer to this question became obvious. And simple. There is a simple reason why Benares is a sacred place, and it is immediately plain to anyone who goes there and views the landscape. 

The reason is this: it is at this point in the Ganga valley – and only at this point – that the river changes direction and flows northward. At Benares the Ganges turns around and flows directly south to north with the city on the western bank. That is, it aligns itself to the celestial axis and its course suddenly conforms to the north/south/east/west alignments. Moreover – and this is the key point – by turning to flow northward the river seems to turn back to her source. This only happens here. It is the conspicuous feature of the landscape. One expects the river to be flowing south towards the sea, but at Benares it flows the other way, towards the Himalayas. One stands on the ghat watching the river. It flows the opposite way to what one expects. The Ganges – as it were – turns back upon itself, turns from its inevitable downhill south-eastwards flow, and goes briefly northwards, back towards the mountains from which she came.

The key idea is: returning to the source. The Ganges turning back northwards is a geographical expression of the idea – inherently spiritual in its implications - of returning to the source. The source is the mountains of the north, the Himalayas. But by extension the northern mountains point to, or imply, the northern pole. The mountains of the north are axial. They represent the celestial pole and the Ganga, then, correlates to its Milky Way. Such is the most fundamental (Hyperborean) symbolism at the heart of Hindoo spirituality. 

This order of symbolism is, it happens, especially Shaivite. The Lord Shiva is identified with the northern pole. Thus it is said that wherever Shiva looks, he looks south. The Shiva lingham, accordingly, is aligned northwards. This is easily observed in a place like Benares – a city hosting countless Shiva linghams. The shaft of the lingham is axial and so represents the pole (and the mountain). The yoni which supports it, and which collects and drains the offerings of milk poured over the lingham, represents the Milky Way/Ganga. The neck of the yoni is aligned northwards. The guardian bull, Nandi, usually stands in the same alignment. Every Shiva lingham refers to the celestial north, and the entire symbol refers to the basic correspondences between the stars and the earthly terrain. On the basis of this symbolism, the city of Benares – on the northward flowing turn of the Ganges – is sacred to Shiva.

There is a secondary reason that explains why the location should be sacred to Shiva, of all gods. This is a conspicuous feature of the riverscape as well. It is this: the valley that extends from the Sarang River to the Asi River is naturally crescent shaped. This can be seen very clearly from any highpoint in the present city and it must have been very apparent from on top the rocky rises on the west bank of the river before the city was ever there. In the hazy distance the river winds in a perfect steady curve. Its course has not changed for thousands of years because it here meets and is guided by a solid bedrock of hard sedimentary stone – the same stone from which the temples and steps and laneways of the city have been constructed. Where the river flows northwards – making the gesture of returning to the source – and flows against a long, perfect crescent of bedrock stone – there is the city of Shiva, Shiva who wears a crescent on his forehead. It is here that the riverscape forms an almost perfect crescent of Shiva. 

Above. The author's photograph of the northern cremation ghat in Benares where the cremation workers perform over 300 cremations per day. Hindoos are cremated here and their ashes are strewn in the Ganges. It is as a place signifying return to the source that Benares has served as a cremation ground for thousands of years. In Benares the river seems to be flowing back to its source - it is therefore a place for the dead and dying. 

* * * 

There are two truly worthy guides to Benares in print that the author strongly recommends. The first is the ultimate study of the city by Mdm. Mireille-Josephine Guezennee which at this time is only available in French. Madam Guezennee, a French academic also known by her Hindoo initiatory named Himabindu, has visited Benares for over twenty years and made a profound study of the city. The present author first met her Calcutta several months ago and discussed aspects of her work, and her deep love for Benares, at some length. She was kind enough to give the author tips on what to see and who to meet there. Her book, published with the assistance of UNESCO, subtitled An Initiatory Voyage to the Spiritual Capital of India, extends to over 500 pages and includes hundreds of Himabindu's own photographs. 

The second book is a 'Spiritual & Cultural Guide' to the Benares region by Rana P. B. Singh and Pravin S. Rana. This is the essential text for any visitor to the city who has more than a passing interest in the spiritual and religious character of Benares and the extended region thereabout. It is an excellent practical guide that includes intelligent, detailed, informative descriptions of the cosmogonic and religious landscape. It gives an account of all the major temples, and many of the minor ones, along with their history, significance and symbolism.

Yours

Harper McAlpine Black

The Benares of James Prinsep

British India produced many genius orientalists, but few with such innate talent and breadth as Mr. James Prinsep. He showed great aptitude for drawing and draughtsmanship at an early age but had weak eyesight and so was directed away from the visual arts to a career as a metallurgist and assayist. It was as an assayist working for the British Mint that he ventured to India and took a position in Benares. There he became deeply interested in early Indian coins which led him to decipher the Kharosthi and Brahmi scripts, the feat of scholarship for which he is most renowned. 

But, in Benares, he also made extensive drawings and engravings of the sacred city and accomplished much else in both the humanities and the sciences. His drawings and lithographs are some of the finest ever made by an orientalist artist, a sublime record of British Benares. In an age where our intellectual elites are poisoned with post-colonial resentment, however, his genius and achievements have been forgotten. Few remember James Prinsep now, though he would have been an extraordinary character in any age. His contribution to the Benares and to its people was profound. More generally, he made a substantial contribution to a wide range of disciplines - a polymath of great imagination and talent. 

The life and times of this unsung hero - and the life and times of Benares, the most sacred city of the Hindoos - is presented in a charming documentary entitled The Benares of James Princep, thus:

The description of the movie:

James Prinsep landed in india in 1819.

He came to work in the mint as an essay master for the East India Company but destiny had bigger plans.

Truly a man for all seasons, his genius blossomed as an artist,linguist,architect,translator,wri­ter,engineer and scientist.

He died at the age of 40.

His brilliance has been ignored by the world.

May this documentary shed light on him and the holy city that he loved.

Readers can find a trailer and instalment of the movie here. 

* * * 

The present writer, having moved along from a week-long sojourn in Boodh Gaya, is now residing for a while in mystical Benares and is privileged to spend his days - especially his mornings - strolling along the ghats on the banks of the Ganges. He is pleased to report that, although less treed, spotted with graffiti and advertising, and suffering the usual cement degradations of Indian modernity, little of substance has changed on the riverfront since the time of James Prinsep. The city is thousands of years old, one of the oldest continually occupied cities in the world. The old city sections with its narrow streets - as opposed to modern commercial extensions - have remained more or less intact since the time of the British Raj. Some things, such as the open-air cremation grounds on the river banks, have remained unchanged since Vedic times. 

The following are some of Mr. Prinsep's engravings of the ghats and other features of Benares. Readers should click on the image for a larger version of each...

* * * 

The Prinsep Monument in Calcutta which, regrettably, is now dwarfed by the new bridge across the Hoogley.

James Prinsep became ill in India and returned to Britain to recover. Alas, he  died a young and untimely death in 1840. News of his demise was greeted with consternation throughout British India, and a beautiful monument was built in his honour beside the Hoogley River in Calcutta. The present author has spent time there too, and along the Prinsep Ghat which is, without question, one of the loveliest parts of Calcutta today. It is now gratifying to be in Benares to see first hand the faithfulness of Prinsep's renderings of the architecture of this ancient and most extraordinary of cities. 

Yours

Harper McAlpine Black

The Decline of the Mahant of Boodh Gaya

Herein is the problem. At the Mahant's College these feet are presented as the sacred imprint of Vishnoo. Across the road at the Mahbodhi Temple the Boodhists present the same relics as the footprints of Lord Boodha.

There is another story to be told concerning the revitalization of the great Mahabodhi Temple in Boodh Gaya. The British, as related in a previous post, created the archaeological and administrative circumstances that allowed the Boodhists of the world to reclaim the long neglected temple complex – location of the revered Peepel Tree under which Sakyamooni Boodha attained enlightenment – but this, it must be related, was at the expense of the local Hindoos. The temple had long been under the ownership of the local Mahant (priest) and had been loosely and somewhat incongruously incorporated into the region’s network of Shiva temples and Math (Hindoo monasteries). 

Generally, the Mahant had neglected the Mahabodhi complex although, as Sir Arthur Cunningham who conducted the authoritative archaeological survey of the site relates, he seems to have sometimes used it as a source of stone, statuary and other building materials. Certainly, the Mahant had no need of it for explicitly Hindoo purposes – except that Lord Boodha, much like Krishma, is regarded by Hindoos as an incarnation of Vishnoo – and there were, until the late 19th C., no local Boodhists or pilgrims in any substantial number needing to use it. The movement to restore the temple noted this fact and sought ways to arrest control of the place from the Mahant who was, at the time, the most powerful man in the district. This proved a more difficult task than had been hoped. In the end it took over a century of difficult legal proceedings before the temple was finally taken from the Mahant’s sole jurisdiction and put in the hands of a governing committee. 

It must be said that the Mahant did not play his cards well. There were many points at which he could have sold the complex to Boodhist interests at a very substantial price. This, for a time, was the solution preferred by the British. But he had no interest in selling and instead squandered his resources and store of good will on court cases that ultimately went against him. Even then, in the 1950s, he wanted to challenge the rulings in the Supreme Court of India. This won him the ire of Prime Minister Nehru who, losing patience, intervened and threatened to investigate the legality of the Mahant’s other land holdings if he did not desist and leave the site to the Boodhists. 

The Mahant in question.

The impasse required a compromise. It was determined that the complex would be administered by a committee of equal numbers of Boodhists and Hindoos, of which the Mahant would only be one. The Mahant was aggrieved by this solution but so too were the Boodhists who had hoped for exclusive control without Hindoo involvement. This remains so to this day. They argue that the Hindoos have no real claim to the sacred site and that it belongs to the Boodhist sanga. They would like Hindoo oversight ended altogether. The Mahant, on the contrary, claims an historical right as well as some religious justifications.

The politics of this controversy is complicated but, essentially, leftist intellectuals in India – insufferably self-righteous and verbose at the best of times – side with the Boodhists, while Hindoo nationalists - pig-headed chauvanists in the main - side with the Mahant. He feels that his property has been confiscated by force, that he has been elbowed out by over-bearing Boodhist peaceniks, and most recently by UNESCO who have claimed the site for World Heritage listing.

It need not have been this way. The Japanese sage, Tenshen – mentioned in earlier posts on this web log – proposed, in the early 1900s, that the site ought to be a joint Shiva/Boodha temple shared by Hindoos and Boodhists with the claims of both faiths given due recognition. This pan-Asian view did not prevail. Instead, the Hindoos and Boodhists, Brahmins and Lamas, went their separate ways, or at least settled on an uncomfortable and awkward detente.

In this, though, the Mahant in fact lost out. Over the course of the entire affair his position has been much diminished and a once thriving centre of Shiva spirituality adjoining the actual Mahabodhi site has been displaced and overshadowed by the sprawling  majesty of the new Boodhist pilgrim theme park. The triumphant restorationism of the Boodhists has, in fact, been at the Hindoos expense. Very much so, as the present author has witnessed for himself. Not only has the booming Boodhist pilgrim trade in Boodh Gaya left the local Hindoo population impoverished – as this author related a few posts ago – but the former glory of the Mahant now lies in ruins. 

Leaving the Mahabodhi complex, following the pathways through the market and then the back streets behind the high walls – areas the pilgrims rarely venture – the author chanced upon a fortress-like building with wide, heavy gates that clearly was once somewhere important. Inside, he has shown around – for a few hundred rupees - by a cheerful but mute Indian man who managed to communicate that the building – quite vast – was the ‘college’ of the Mahant and the remains of an old Math and Shiva Temples. It is in considerable disarray. History books tell us that there was once a time when the Mahant was greeted in the streets outside by merchants and wallahs and shoppers and pedestrians stopping, standing and bowing in his honour. The College – along the banks of the river - was a thriving complex with over 300 students at a time and the Math was an important way station for wandering Shaivite sadhoos. Now the Mahant collects rent but has no real power and the college is almost deserted. The Math is entirely in ruins and the vast ‘Cobra Garden’ - which was clearly once magnificent - is a jungle, except for areas being used as a market garden.

Photographs of the Mahant's college follow. They can be compared with pictures of the beautiful restoration of the Boodhist's Mahabodhi complex just a stone's throw away. The wheel has turned. The Boodhist's fortunes have been reversed, but so have those of the local Hindoos who were clearly the losers. It is a great pity that the prosperity of one party meant the decline of the other. While it is a matter of some wonderment that the Boodhist world has had its omphalos restored after many long centuries, it is a great pity that the Mahant's college and the Shiva Temples of Boodh Gaya are now rotting in poverty and neglect. 

The compound of the Mahant's religious college.

The college in relation to the Mahabodhi Temple at the rear.

The Mahant's throne today. (That is a real tiger's skin.)

In a second floor area there is a gallery of old photographs that tell the history of the building and also the Mahant and his relationship with the Mahabodhi complex.

Shiva shrines

All that is left of the Math (Monastery)

Yours

Harper McAlpine Black