It fascinates me; treading upon paths that have been
cured by men and beasts, galloping royals, soldiers on foot and that list, is
endless. History, well she owns us. But me; she is a part of me. I had forged a
connection with her and she told me every story that I wanted to know. When a Hampi was decided upon as part of a History ‘study’ tour, we giggled as the lecturer used the word, making fun of it the whole time, since it appeared to me and the rest of my gang that there was an intended pun.
The bus ride to Hampi was a rather bumpy affair. The rickety roads of Chitradurga didn’t do justice to my back ache. It felt like I’d carried boulders on my back, up a sloping hill. No exaggeration. I had secured a window at the far end of the bus and I was pretty happy to nestle close to it, staring into the obscurity. Piles of rocks. That’s all there was and then there were what could have been beautiful stone houses. It felt like I’d been here before. This feeling was not new to me. I had forged that bond, now I was forced to feel.
That’s the first thing that strikes you in Hampi, massive
boulders, buttered in appearance by elements of nature. Nose to window, I sat
admiring, but someone seemed to find it amusing and to my utter disbelief said,
“That just looks like piles of alien crap.” I wanted to fling some profanities,
that’s how close this felt to me, but instead, I just muttered a few words
under my breath, apologising for their grave ignorance, with a ‘God, they know
not what they are saying.’ True, they were just a random array of rocks, but
beautiful.
As everyone admired the magnificence of the towering
Vittala temple, I turned to face the other side, the haphazard arrangement of
rocks, a post-modern Stonehenge if I may call it. They were everywhere and this was what was
left of the erstwhile Vijayanagar Empire. Each one of them would speak a story
of an age long gone by and I knew I would hear it.
I watched as the sky turned a paling orange and
their skins burned a honey gold. There was no sign of the October winds here.
They stood and then I stood and we just stared at one another. No movement, in
silence. And then I imagined what they were. Rather, who they were.
They had been the lone witnesses to the highs and lows of various dynasties who passed by. They had watched as kings were born, as they had ruled and made their names, some for their valour, some for their wisdom and well, some for their greed.
They also looked upon some who had found a way to tame them, enduring, as men found a way to break them up, carve and use them to raise an empire, building history. Of wooden wedges and chisels, they still bore marks, as they stood tall, bearing the weight thrust on them.
They were a testament for kings’ foresights - Water channels and aqueducts, still capable of performing their functions today. Areas of commerce, telling the story of a flourishing empire and yes, temples, not only houses of the Gods but evidence to the artisans’ skilled hand that talked of Gods and to them.
They had watched over as one king gave way for another, as greed and envy ruled over everything else, and as a bustling city was laid to waste. They watched as nature had re-claimed this land, growing and flourishing over what was left of it. They spoke, not only to me, but those who had come in search of these ruins, digging them up, exposing the stone floors below, and bringing light to chambers hidden below.
They were as old as time. They had spoken.
They had been the lone witnesses to the highs and lows of various dynasties who passed by. They had watched as kings were born, as they had ruled and made their names, some for their valour, some for their wisdom and well, some for their greed.
They also looked upon some who had found a way to tame them, enduring, as men found a way to break them up, carve and use them to raise an empire, building history. Of wooden wedges and chisels, they still bore marks, as they stood tall, bearing the weight thrust on them.
They were a testament for kings’ foresights - Water channels and aqueducts, still capable of performing their functions today. Areas of commerce, telling the story of a flourishing empire and yes, temples, not only houses of the Gods but evidence to the artisans’ skilled hand that talked of Gods and to them.
They had watched over as one king gave way for another, as greed and envy ruled over everything else, and as a bustling city was laid to waste. They watched as nature had re-claimed this land, growing and flourishing over what was left of it. They spoke, not only to me, but those who had come in search of these ruins, digging them up, exposing the stone floors below, and bringing light to chambers hidden below.
They were as old as time. They had spoken.
