The Qingyang Temple in the northwestern section of Chengdu is a peaceful setting, one of the most well-known Taoist temples in China. First built in the Tang Dynasty (618-907), not much is left from that period, and the buildings one sees there now are from much later in the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).
In front of Sanqing Hall are two amazing bronze goats. It is said that touching them will bring good luck. They are lovely goats, and one can see how that might be true.
There seems to be a connection between goats and the founder of Taoism, Laotzu, who, according to one legend, is said to have remarked as he was leaving, never to reappear in public again, that his disciples might find him at the “Green Goat Market.” It is not known whether or not they ever did find him there—or where the Green Goat Market might be.
There are several halls in the temple with many paintings and statues of gods and goddesses. In the courtyards are large incense burners, with devotees lighting incense. Temple officials, unlike the Chinese people generally seen in the streets who dress in western clothes, are wearing long, graceful, traditional Chinese clothes. They seem to be all men, and they look, not so much like monks, as like officials, concerned with the running of the temple.
Conversation with temple official
One young official, whose hair is piled on his head in a traditional style, kindly agrees to have his photo taken. He speaks not a word of English. He reads words from a paper, lights some incense, and seems all the while very bemused at our presence.
After the photo, and the blessing, we assume it was a blessing, we give him a tip, which he accepts. However, he seems not so much interested in the tip as he is amused by the encounter. We are amused as well, and no one is quite sure who is more amused by whom.
The really most intriguing aspect of the temple is the inscriptions beside the buildings. Apparently, there are two kinds of Taoism, philosophical Taoism, which westerners tend to be more familiar with, and then there is also what is called “religious Taoism”. It turns out that there are lots of deities in Taoism—who knew?
Temple Roof
Their names and titles are extraordinarily fascinating and mysterious. Where did these gods come from and how did they arise? Were they local Chinese gods? Did they arrive via Buddhism, and then become absorbed into Taoism subsequently?
Tortoise and stele
There is a bookstore at the temple, with hundreds of books—all look immensely intriguing. Unfortunately, not one book is in English. I guess I should have learned Chinese. The inscriptions outside the buildings are bilingual, in English and Chinese, so they will have to do. Really, they are trilingual, but I’m not sure what the third script is.
The Eight Trigram Pavilion is three stories high, with a square base and a round room above—like the Chinese concept of the universe, with the earth being square and heaven round. In the building and on the pillars that support it can be found 81 dragons. Inside is a statue of Laotsu who is riding on a green ox and is traveling toward the Hangu Pass.
The Main Hall is the Hall of the Three Purities, first constructed in the Tang Dynasty and later rebuilt. The Three Purities are enshrined as statues in the hall. The central statue is the Primeval Lord of Heaven, who rules over the Jade Clarity Realm. This, to the uninitiated, is kind of like a fairy tale—where is the Jade Clarity Realm? It sounds lovely. To the left is the Heavenly Lord of the Numinous Treasure—and he lives in the Highest Clarity Realm. There is also a Supreme Clarity Realm, and in that realm dwells the Heavenly Lord of Tao and Virtue.
There are cultural relics mentioned too on the inscription. One is called the “single-horned copper coat;” another is “the bell of the World of Darkness.” This really is a fairy tale. What could sound more spell-binding than “the bell of the World of Darkness”? There is also a “ghost money burner.” Does the money belong to the ghost—or is the money ghostly? — and why is it being burned?
My amusement is not meant at all in any unkind way—there is something truly intriguing about all this, and I do wish there were a way to understand it. I feel that if the spell is broken though, that I may turn into a pumpkin at any moment.
Incense burner
Further along, we come to the Hall of the Goddess Doumu, who is the Mother of the Big Dipper. I hadn’t known that the Big Dipper had a mother. There is another figure with four heads and eight arms, who is the Pure Vital Breath Primordial Sovereign of the Big Dipper in Middle Heaven.
This somehow evokes an extraordinary sense of being in two worlds at the same time—there is the mundane world of earth, which one is used to, and somewhere floating above there is another enchanted world, entirely mythical, inhabited with dragons, and mothers of the west, and stars of the big dipper–with angels, fairies and immortals. All seem to be flying from realm to realm.
The outer edges of the temple roofs turn upwards, and dragons sit on top of them, guarding the temple. An extraordinary stone tortoise holds a tall stele—or maybe that is the world—on his back. Is the tortoise’s expression a smile or a grimace—or both?
It is an entirely charming and very peaceful temple. Along with the incense drifting upwards, one catches a glimpse of unseen spirits smiling enigmatically.
One day a strange red light appeared at the site where the Miaoyuan Pagoda Temple (later known as XinXiang Temple) used to stand in Sichuan Province until it was destroyed during a war. It was during the Qing Dynasty (1644-1912), in the seventeenth century, that the red light appeared.
Investigators were dispatched to find out the cause of the light, and the image of the Bodhisattva Manjusri (Wen Shu) was seen to appear within the light. This was a clear sign that the ruined temple needed to be rebuilt, so funds were raised in 1697, and the new temple came to be known as the Wenshu Temple.
It stands there today in Chengdu—a very modern Chinese city with a 2,000 year old history—a large temple with a broad footpath leading through several impressive gates.
Placed near the entranceway to the temple, the Peace Pagoda of a Thousand Buddhas stands, the highest iron pagoda in China.
A stone elephant
Underneath a stone elephant, a stone boy is seated holding leaves toward the elephant’s trunk for him to eat.
In the courtyards stand huge incense burners, with many lit incense sticks that worshippers have placed there burning, their smoke filling the air.
Off to one side, down an alleyway, there is suspended a long carved wood fish. This is Matsya, the fish, the first avatar of Vishnu.
Wenshu Temple holds around 300 statues; as is normal in temples, the interior of the buildings and the sacred figures of the deities, out of respect and reverence for them, cannot be photographed. Taking photos from the outside and in the courtyards is allowed. A nineteenth century six-foot tall, very elaborate copper statue of Veda Bodhisattva, stands near a doorway. His job is to protect the Dharma and to ward off evil spirits, which sounds like a good thing to do, and though the guardian doesn’t look entirely battle-ready, maybe it’s the thought that counts.
Incense burner
In the Wenshu Temple, the statues and sculptures of earlier times and of the more central Boddhisattvas and Buddhas are stronger, simpler, more profound figures.
Buddhism, which originated in India, was carried by monks over many centuries throughout Asia—to southeast Asia, westwards to Afghanistan, to Nepal, to central and northern Asia, to Tibet, to China, and on to Korea and Japan. It took hold in all these lands and grew, even as Hinduism was being re-established in India, to a large extent replacing Buddhism there.
Matsya, the fish avatar
Buddhism was not disowned by India though, and today it is the general view among Hindus that Buddhism is really a part of Hinduism, with the Buddha being the ninth avatar of the Supreme Being, Lord Vishnu. Buddhists themselves have a rather different view though.
As Indian Buddhist monks undertook their journeys across Asia, they traveled in peace, and unlike their western missionary counterparts in later centuries, they did not collaborate with the colonial aspirations of their home country, India, since India had no colonial aspirations.
Veda Boddhisattva
Indian ships did not set sail in order to set up an empire or seek dominion over other peoples and nations. They did not burn books, destroy cultures, commit massacres, steal land, or enslave anyone. Instead, Indian merchants established a far-reaching peaceful network of trade-routes throughout Asia that was mutually beneficial to them and to the peoples they encountered.
Manjusri Boddhisattva
Known as Wenshu or Wen Shu Shih-Li to the Chinese, to Indian Buddhists, the primary Boddhisattva of the Wenshu Temple is Manjusri Boddhisattva, the embodiment of transcendent wisdom. While Sanskrit concepts do not lend themselves easily to translation into English, “manju” may be taken to mean “gentle” or “kind,” and “shri” to mean “glory,” “radiance” or “power.” So Manjusri may be said to mean “gentle glory.”
The Manjusri Boddhisattva is one of the principle figures of Mahayana (Greater Vehicle) Buddhism. He holds in his right hand a flaming sword (this, by the way, is an image that is echoed in the Christian Bible), which represents the light that cuts through darkness, revealing truth and clarity. His left hand holds a lotus flower in full bloom, on which lies the sutra, or scriptures, of Great Wisdom. And in this book is the promise of a blessed future for all those who truly follow his teachings.
His mount is a lion with a golden mane, standing for the majesty of great wisdom. When the lion is blue or green, the animal represents the mind, transformed and enlightened by meditation.
Photos one through five: Sharon St Joan
Top photo: Wenshu Temple: a stone elephant
Second photo: The Iron Pillar of One Thousand Buddhas
Third photo: A Wenshu incense burner
Fourth photo: Matsya, the fish avatar
Fifth photo: Veda Boddhisattva
Sixth photo / Wikipedia Commons / Public Domain / Manjusri Boddhisattva
Called kovilkaadugal, some of these sacred groves are very old, going back thousands of years; some go back only hundreds of years. In former times, every village in India had its own sacred grove. There the trees, all the plants, all the birds and other wildlife were protected because these lands were the abode of the sacred spirits. So that meant that every living being there was sacred, to be preserved and cared for.
The book, Sacred Groves of Tamil Nadu, a Survey, by M. Amirthalingam, published by C.P.R. Environmental Education Centre gives a fascinating overview of the sacred groves of Tamil Nadu, in the south of India.
Not all the groves remain; some have been destroyed with the advent of a more modern worldview for whom the sacred is a less meaningful concept. Others that are still there have deteriorated. The C.P.R. Environmental Education Centre in the past few years has restored over fifty of the sacred groves in Tamil Nadu. There are a few of the groves that have never been destroyed at all—that have been preserved intact, repositories of endemic species of plants, trees, vines, and wildlife.
The unique feature of the sacred groves is that the people who live there themselves revere and care for the grove. The people and the grove are part of the same sacred place, and no outside organization or governmental structure will care for the groves in the quite same way. Wherever the CPREEC has restored one of the sacred groves, they have ensured that the future care of the grove remains with the local village people who live there. It is their grove, and they are the people best suited to look after it.
Generally each grove has a shrine dedicated either to the Mother Goddess Amman or to Ayyanar, a warrior spirit. People build huge terra cotta statues of horses to offer in worship. Nearby may be a small pond or a brook. The forms of the goddess may have a fierce aspect. The spirit Ayyanar and his band of warriors are protective, riding on their horses, as they encircle the village at night protecting everyone there from harm. They carry huge swords and wear gigantic mustaches.
Ayyanar is happy with offerings of fruit, flowers, or coconuts.
Sometimes there are squares of blackened earth, where villagers practice firewalking.
It is important that the devotional figures to be offered be made of terra cotta, because clay represents the life cycle. It is biodegradable. In a few years, it will decay, returning to the earth from where it came, so it represents the process of life. The terra cotta animals are generally domestic animals, like horses or bulls, though sometimes they are elephants.
The terra cotta horses offered can be as high as twenty feet, and the whole village is involved in making and decorating them. The horse as a sacred animal is a very ancient concept, going back to the time of the Rig Veda.
The groves are situated on the outskirts of villages and also serve an ecological function as windbreakers. They are home to many medicinal plants.
Often the deity being worshipped in the grove is represented simply by a stone slab, or even irregular clumps of stone.
Sometimes the sacred groves are also archeological sites. Mr. Amerthalingam calls for the government to take up certain measures to ensure the continued protection of the sacred groves.
The sacred groves of India preserve endemic species of plants and animals, some preserved nowhere else. They are a treasure house for so many species and for something less tangible—for the sacred nature that is part of the soul of India.
Avalokiteśvara, the bodhisattva of compassion. Ajaṇṭā Caves, Mahārāṣtra, India.
According to the Wikipedia article entitled “Bodhidharma,” the saint Bodhidharma was born in Kanchipuram in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu. Living around the fifth or sixth century, during the time of the Pallava Kings, he is credited with the remarkable feat of carrying Buddhism throughout the far east—to southeast Asia, to China, and then to Japan.
His teachings, drawn originally from a form of yogic meditation called Dyana, became the basis of Chan Buddhism—and in Japan, were called Zen Buddhism.
The Pallava kings, who ruled during the time that he lived, were one of the great dynasties of southern India; among their accomplishments was their amazing architecture, including countless buildings and temples still standing today, among which are the beautiful sculptures of Mahabalipuram on the coast of the Bay of Bengal near Madras.
Legend has it that it was Bodhidharma who introduced martial arts to the monks of the Shaolin Monastary in China, a system of self-defense that later on became Kung Fu, then Karate, which branched out to form a number of other eastern martial art traditions.
According to some accounts, Bodhidharma followed the Silk Road to arrive in China. Existing for at least three thousand years, the network of routes known as the Silk Road went overland from China to India, and then through Iran and Afghanistan extending on to Venice in Europe. Marco Polo followed these routes while traveling to the east on his medieval adventures.
Sculptures in the Longmen grottoes
Most modern scholars believe that the Tamil monk, Bodhidharma, arrived in North China in the early fifth century AD, but accounts differ. He may have arrived during the Liu Song Dynasty (420-479) whose founder, the Emperor Wu, rose from obscurity to consolidate power over much of China. Other accounts state that Boddidharma did not arrive until the Liang Dynasty (502-557), which left some extraordinary sculptures, notable examples are those of a turtle and a winged lion that can be seen at the tomb of Xiao Hui.
A turtle at the tomb of Xiao Xiu
Boddidharma spent most of his time in northern China in the country of the Northern Wei Dynasty (386-534). This period in Chinese history has left a treasure trove of both Taoist and Buddhist art work, especially among cave sites. In what are known as the Longman Grottoes, in Henan Province, in the central part of the country, can be found over 100,000 pieces of art work. Despite the ravages of western trophy hunters during the early twentieth century and the later destruction of Maoist cultural revolutionaries, much of this art work has survived.
Apparently, in some Chinese texts, Bodhidharma is described as having a thick beard, blue eyes, and possibly a rather bad temper. Since the Chinese have hardly any beards, the “thick beard” part of the description makes sense. Why, as a Tamil from southern India, he would have had blue eyes is not at all clear, and a “bad temper” is a subjective concept. In any case, what is clear is that he must have made a very strong impression wherever he traveled, and as he converted most of Asia to Buddhism; he must have been a determined and visionary individual.
The Buddhism he taught was of the Mahayana path—meaning “Great Vehicle,” the most widespread form of Buddhism today. The other main stream of Buddhism, Theravada Buddhism, has been the major tradition in Sri Lanka and certain other southeast Asian countries.
Emperor Wu worshipping the Buddha, at Mogao Caves near Dunhuang
For most of us, the greater part of our lives have been lived during a time when Chinese culture may have seemed to be both materialistic and somewhat pedestrian. Certainly, Mao’s Cultural Revolution seemed to have obliterated a lot of culture.
Opening the door to a deeper vision of the China of the past allows a rare glimpse of the spiritual and artistic depths of the lesser known aspects of Chinese civilization—as well as the remarkable journey of a Tamil monk who walked across the continent of Asia, enlightening those with whom he came in contact. There is much more to China that is seen through a narrow lens of just the last few decades.
Second photo: Wikimedia Commons / released into the public domain by the copyright holder, Alex Kwok, sculptures in the Longmen grottoes
Third photo: Wikimedia Commons / published by Vmenkov under the terms of the GNU Free Documentation License / a stone turtle at the tomb of Xiao Xiu
Fourth photo: Wikimedia Commons / This image is in the public domain because its copyright has expired. / Emperor Wu worshipping the Buddha, at Mogao Caves near Dunhuang
In the book “Jung’s Map of the Soul, An Introduction”, Murray Stein recounts the story of an incident that happened with a patient of Jung’s. The patient had a dream of a golden scarab beetle. As they were discussing this, they became aware of a sound outside the window, and when they looked, there was a Swiss version of the same kind of beetle (Cetonia aurate) trying to get into the room.
Referred to as synchronicity, these sorts of events in which an occurrence in the outside world and an occurrence in the inner world mirror each other, have happened to many of us. Sometimes we see them as profoundly meaningful, sometimes we dismiss them as coincidence, sometimes they go unnoticed.
Occurrences like this should come as no surprise to anyone with a knowledge of the Hindu concept that the innermost soul of every being, the atman, “the self” (which is the opposite, generally speaking, of what we in the west consider to be the “self”) is identical to the universal Brahman—who is the great, underlying soul of the universe. (I’m expressing this in my own terms—and there are many, varying schools of philosophy in Hinduism, but this is a primary, and widely accepted thread, that runs throughout Hindu thought.)
One may question whether there is a clear division between the inner world and the outer world. Is there an inner and outer at all? This question flies in the face, not only of the material, atheistic view of the physical world as a sort of stand-alone event, that props itself up with its own laws of physics and has it’s own discrete, independent, unchallengable existence, but it also is quite different from the day-to-day perception that we, to the extent that we subscribe to a modern, western headspace tend to have of the world around us. As modern people, for us, things happen from external causes; events are required to follow the rules laid down by Newtonian physics and, for most of our lives on most days, that is that. The thunderstorm occurs, not because the gods are angry, but because the air currents and humidity are acting in a certain physical way.
Yet even modern physics has overturned this prosaic worldview, decades ago, with quantum physics and other even more arcane theories and concepts. Certainly, going back in time, for most of the societies that have gone before us, the inner world and the outer world are not two distinct happenings. They are intertwined—and life is, or can be, magical, mystical, pervaded with spirits, with numinous presences, with events and atmospheres far more meaningful and profound than the prosaic constructs we have deluded ourselves into seeing as “reality”. The “primitive”, animistic view of tribal people that knows the world as one filled with consciousness—where every stone, river, bird, or mountain is filled with life and awareness may be closer to the truth than our own sophisticated, but destitute, perception of reality.
“Reality” is far grander than anything we might imagine, and God and the gods more real than we might ever have thought possible. The underlying mystical reality of time and eternity far more present and profound than our own carefully-trained blindness has allowed us to see.
Photo: Wikimedia Commons / A scarab beetle, for the occasion of the marriage between Amunhotep III and his wife, Queen Tiye
At the Sittanavasal site there is a sacred grove, one of over 50 sacred groves restored by CPREEC (C.P. Ramaswami Environmental Education Centre) in the past few years.
Dr. Nanditha Krishna, Honorary Director of CPREEC, who was instrumental in restoring this grove, as well as the others, recalls that when CPREEC first arrived in the mid-nineties to have a look at the Sittanavasal site, the area surrounding the great rock was a barren spot where nothing grew. Over the centuries all the trees and other vegetation had been destroyed; land once sacred had fallen into disrepair and been forgotten.
The CPREEC program to restore the sacred groves in southern India has several interrelated purposes—a major goal is to protect the environment and the natural wilderness of India, by maintaining the groves that still exist and by restoring those that have been destroyed.
As is the case for the rest of the world, forests and wilderness areas in India have been under assault, especially the last couple of centuries. Farming has taken its toll, as have industrial development, economic development, and the tourist industry. On land once called sacred, one may find anything from city blocks, to heaps of trash, to a factory, a shopping center or a hotel; sometimes one finds nothing at all—just an empty stretch of land with no trees or plants. In a surprising number of cases though, the village people have preserved their sacred groves and have not allowed their destruction. It is the reverence for the land as a sacred place that serves as an incentive for the people living there to restore the natural environment. For all the thousands of villages in India, each one once had a sacred grove.
Dr. Nanditha Krishna
CPREEC works together with the village people in each location. They will assume responsibility for restoring the sacred grove, and in exchange the people there will agree to maintain it, not allowing it to fall into disrepair again. This also means not allowing it to be used in ways that will harm the native plants and the habitat of the animals living there. Everything that is a part of nature will be preserved and protected. The accepted guidelines for each grove may differ. In some groves, dry branches may be collected to use as firewood; in other groves, even this is prohibited.
At the foot of the great rock of Sittanavasal, nothing was growing by the 1990’s but grass. There were no trees, vines, or flowering plants. It was a wasteland. The professional people of CPREEC—botanists and environmental experts arrived. They did extensive interviews with the village elders and researched the local area to determine exactly which plants were native to that particular location. After all, there wouldn’t be much point in planting species that didn’t belong there. Only original native species would be used to restore the sacred grove.
Very shortly they came across an unexpected difficulty. Something was wrong with the soil. It was strangely acidic, and they eventually came to the realization that this was a human-caused problem, but, amazingly, not a recent one. Around 1,500 to 2,000 years ago, when the Jains lived there, as they were painting their incredibly beautiful frescoes on the walls, they were extremely careful, as always, never to harm any animals.
Sittanavasal - another view
The binding material in many types of paint was made from animal products. This was not at all acceptable to the Jains, since they believed in doing no harm to any animals. So they had to develop paints that contained only plant-based products. They achieved this by using an ingredient found in a particular species of onion, and subsequently, they planted lots and lots of these onions nearby in the ground, so that they would have the wherewithal to continue to manufacture their paints.
In saving the animals from exploitation, however, they unwittingly were harming the local soil. Of course, they had no way to know that this was happening, and it was an ironic turn of events that the Jains, in protecting nature, were accidentally and unknowingly causing harm to the environment.
Once they realized that the invasive onion species was the cause of the imbalance in the soil, CPREEC spent countless hours removing the onions from the ground (they were still growing there 2,000 years later!) so that other plants would be able to grow again. They got up nearly all of them, the soil became fertile again, and they were able to plant trees, flowing bushes, and vines—that have since grown into beautiful plants.
While we were visiting this past February, we did come upon an unexpected occurrence, a little onion remained right there in the ground.
Whenever CPREEC restores a sacred grove, they hire one of the people living there to serve as the grove’s custodian. Rangam, the custodian of the Sittanavasal sacred grove, had accompanied us, up the steep stairway cut into the rock, so that we could see the ancient windswept site at the top—and then at the foot of the great rock, he led us along the pathway through the restored sacred grove, now lush with trees and plants which lend great beauty to the majestic rock.
Rangam, with the onion
Then Rangam came across the stray onion—right there at his feet growing in the soil. He carefully dug it out of the ground and held it up—the offending alien onion.
(Although it is silly, I did feel a little sorry for the onion. It will no doubt become a happy onion in heaven.)
How hard it is as humans to avoid causing harm to the earth. Even the ancient Jains, who managed far better than most of us do, could not avoid harming a bit of the planet, even as they were doing their best to protect the animals and the natural world.
There is a reason that in the cave art of southern France, and in many spiritual traditions, including ancient Egypt, there are part human, part animal figures depicted—it is because they really are neither human nor animal, they are gods, archetypal beings. They are entities that have a consciousness that belongs to a more profound level of reality—the magical level. Though animals are innocent, unlike humans, and that sets them apart from humans, still animals are not necessarily, in and of themselves, magical beings. They are magical beings only when they have an unbroken connection with the magical realms, on a level beyond the world, with the mystical beings that live there and belong there. Otherwise, they are innocent beings caught in the net of the physical world.
Millions of years in the past, at the site where Sittanavasal is now, in the Pudukottai district of Tamil Nadu in southern India, a mountainous rock emerged over time out of the earth. It still stands there today, and at some point thousands of years ago, Jain monks went on a steep climb up to the top of the solid rock extending hundreds of feet high, and, with only a narrow path to follow along the ledge on the far side of the rock; there they made their way to a low-ceilinged natural cave, known as Eladipattam. In the cave they carved out seventeen stone beds and stone pillows, where the monks slept, and no doubt they spent long days and hours in meditation in this remote, mystical place high above the universe, where only the wind travels.
One of these stone beds contains a text in the Brahmi script, in the Tamil language, which may date back to either the first century BC or, as the sign says, to the second or third century BC. Other Tamil inscriptions are from later on around the eighth century AD. Unfortunately, there is also a lot of modern graffiti.
It’s not certain how long Jain monks remained in this spot—at least until around the ninth century AD, since a nearby Jain rock-cut temple contains frescoes from that period.
The temple, Arivar-Koil is very small, with just two rooms; in one room are three life-sized sculptures of Jain saints. The one to the left is Parsvanatha, the 23rd Thirtankara, and across from him sits a Jain teacher. The third figure is thought to be another Thirtankara. Jain beliefs are complicated; the Thirtankaras are neither gods nor humans, but they are enlightened beings. Jains are known for their particularly strict adherence to the teaching of ahimsa, or non-violence, which is common to all the spiritual traditions originating in India.
Several million Jains live in India today; however, they now represent less than one percent of the population. In earlier centuries, following the first century AD, both Buddhism and Jainism held sway on the Indian subcontinent. After that time Hinduism gradually regained its position as the predominant religion of India, and Buddhism especially took hold throughout the rest of Asia. As a general rule though, there has been neither violence or animosity among the various spiritual traditions native to India, and, for the most part, they have co-existed with mutual respect and the recognition that they hold similar value systems.
The innermost room of the Arivar-Koil temple contains in the ceiling a circular feature, and the room itself is an echo chamber. Our guide, who knew yoga breathing techniques, was able, by breathing completely silently, to cause the entire room to be filled with a very loud sound of the syllable, Om. No one else there could produce this effect although the rest of us tried. We could, by uttering out loud the sound Om observe that the sound grew louder and louder as it reverberated in the room. But only the guide could produce the remarkable effect of his silent breathing producing a loud audible sound, amplified through the circular feature in the ceiling. So much for the principles of science that lay down the laws of physics, of what can be true and what can’t, since clearly physical laws do not allow sound to come from nowhere—but a loud sound did indeed spring out of the silence of the temple.
I was reminded of one of the tombs at Sakkara, in Egypt, where there is a room also cut out of a single solid stone, no larger than eight feet by ten feet, where when one made a sound, the room picked up the sound and echoed it in a remarkable way. One is reminded also of the myths of ancient Britain, where it is said that Merlin transported giant standing stones by sound alone—and even that there are standing stones, among the 10,000 stone circles scattered throughout the British Isles and Brittany, that have the power to move by themselves in the night—who knows, perhaps they do.
In the temple at Sittanavasal, there are also frescoes, beautiful works of art, some are identical to those found in the Brihadeswara Temple in Trichy not too far away.
The paintings on the walls are remarkable, done with great sensitivity and artistic skill. The central painting is of a pond with lotuses that are being picked by monks, fish, animals, and by the ducks and swans that live in the lake. Other paintings also feature flowers and plants.
Sittanavasal carries to this day a sense of peace and the presence of the otherworldliness of the ancient Jains who led lives of self-sacrifice and devotion.
