A temple that beckons
By Shona Adhikari

AS a world heritage site, Ellora, near Auranga-bad in Maharashtra, draws people from all over the world. Everyone is so anxious to reach Ellora, that they have no inclination to see all the other extremely important sites located along the route. For anyone making the trip to Ellora, it will be worthwhile to allow plenty of time to stop at the historic Daulatabad Fort. En route are Khuldabad, the resting place of Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb and the first Nizam of Hyderabad, and the Grishneshwara Temple.

I left Aurangabad for Ellora, fairly early in the morning, as I had been warned that Daulatabad was a long climb up and it would be best to tackle it before the sun became really hot. But I was lucky with the weather and as I drove off, the clouds were gathering in the sky, making it a perfect day for sight-seeing.

It took about half an hour to reach Daulatabad, or the ‘abode of wealth’, and an amazing sight it was too. In years past it was one of the most important forts in India and gained even greater importance when the 14th century Sultan of Delhi, Muhammad bin Tughlaq decided to shift his capital from Delhi to Daulatabad.

Daulatabad was earlier known as Devgiri (or the Hill of God), and was developed as a stronghold by the Yadavas — a loose confederation of tribes, who decided on Devgiri as their capital. The Delhi Sultans coveted the wealth and power of the Yadavas, and in 1294, Ala-ud-Din Khilji, attacked Raja Ramchandra of Devgiri, and succeeded in overcoming him. Heaping gold and jewels on Ala-ud-Din, Ramachandra managed to be appointed Governor, subject to Delhi. But his son Shankara, defied Delhi’s demands for tribute and was put to death in 1313. Sultan Qutb ud-Din Khilji marched on Devgiri, and built the Friday Mosque in 1318, without a minaret — the first Muslim monument in the town. A victory tower, the Chand Minar, was built in 1435 was meant as a military observation post.

Sultan Muhammad bin Tughlaq, dissatisfied with his Delhi capital Tughlakabad, decided that Delhi lay too far north for the fulfilment of his ambition to conquer the whole of India. He made every one of his subjects travel the entire distance of 700 miles. Many died on the way, and when the enterprise failed, the Sultan was compelled to leave his new stronghold for the north again.

The fort is almost a rock climbers ascent, and I was pleased that I was wearing the right sort of shoes. A citadel planned for a world-conquerer (no less) it has three lines of defence; an outer wall 5 km long protected the population in a town that has long been abandoned; a second wall enclosed the area known as Mahakot (great fort); the third encloses the Balakot (young fort) with a magnificent gateway. A broad stairway hewn in the rock leads to a Mughal Baradari, built for Shah Jehan’s visit in 1636. A final stairway leads to the top, that is defended by canon. Multiple stout wooden doorways are spiked against elephant charges.

By the time I had come down from the top of the fort, I was really thirsty. There are a number of roadside eateries opposite the fort, and I was able to refresh myself, before I started off on my next port of call. I also decided to stock up on film rolls, as I realised that I would be visiting some very important locations, and it would be unforgivable not be able to record them for posterity.

So on to Khulodabad — to a totally different atmosphere. Clearly once a large and imposing town, Khuldabad seems almost preserved in an early 18th century time warp. My first visit was to Mughal Emperor Aurangzeb’s austere tomb, open to the sky, with a tulsi plant growing over it. A tomb that is certainly different from the other tombs of Mughal Emperors that I had seen. Aurangzeb, unwilling to be a burden on thestate, paid for his mausoleum with money earned by selling white caps he had quilted. He chose this final resting-place partly because the ground was hallowed by the Dargah of Saint Sayyid Zain-ud-Din, who died in 1370. Nearby are the tombs of Azam Shah (Aurangzeb’s second son), his wife and his daughter.

On the opposite side of the road, lies the Dargah of another venerable saint, Sayyid Burhan ud-Din, who died in 1344. It is said that just outside the grave, trees of silver sprouted like magic from the ground, and these were cut down, providing funds for the shrine’s upkeep. According to legend, the stumps of silver sprout whenever there is need for funds. Within the same courtyard are the graves of Nizam ul-Mulk Asaf Jah I the founder of the royal dynasty of Hyderabad, and his son Nasir Jung.

Also worth visiting at Khuldabad is the mausoleum of Bani Begum, the wife of one of Aurangzeb’s sons. Set in a sheltered garden, this charming edifice is encircled by a wall with domed kiosks, and charming pavilions — echoing the Persian concept of paradise, with running water and flowers as symbols of immortality.

My next stop was at the splendid Grishneshwara Temple, listed as the 12th Jyotirlinga, and located very close to Ellora. The temple is an important place of pilgrimage, and draws huge crowds during Shivaratri. Dating back 600 years, the temple has an ornately carved shikhar, that depicts all the Hindu gods. Among the notable images are those of Kartikiya on his peacock and a splendid Ganesh. The spire is covered with a gold leaf.

At the entrance of the temple sits a Nandi bull facing the inner sanctorum. It is obviously an object of great affection and I witnessed it being kissed, garlanded and bathed in coconut water by a large number of women. Inside the sanctum sanctorum — the entrance to which was only about 3 ft in height — sat the regal figure of the head priest dressed in bright red. A single shaft of light lit up his figure and the worshipper who sat with his hands folded reverentially in front of the lingam.

The temple was built by Rani Ahilyabai, and it is now managed by a trust. According to B.D. Shastri, one of the Sevaks, over 10,000 pilgrims visit the temple every day, with the numbers swelling to three times the number on special days.

My driver suggested that lunch at Ellora would be best, and that it was just a short drive away. I settled down to a simple meal of rice, dal and vegetables at a small cafe. The Ellora caves beckoned, but I was glad to sit down after all the sight-seeing of the morning. I had a sense of inner satisfaction at having seen all these wonderful places on the road to Ellora — places that I would never have seen if I had not taken a friend’s advice and stopped along the way instead of rushing to Ellora, the way most people do. Lunch over, it was now time to take on Ellora .......but that’s another story!