Bhuleshwar - History and Beyond

Bhuleshwar – Lord Shiva’s Abode

Last June, before our visit to the Lord Khandoba temple at Jejuri, we spent the entire day at Bhuleshwar. It is located at a driving distance of 6 hours from Mumbai (Imagine…distance measured in hours…Indian thought process…haha) on the Mumbai Pune highway. Actually, it is situated around 45kms from Pune and 10 km on Pune Solapur highway from Yawat. Driving down the highway during the monsoon is an experience in itself. Lush green vegetation, misty moist breeze, rains lashing across, it makes its way through the scenic Sahyadri mountain ranges through passes and tunnels. There is no place to stay in Bhuleshwar so best option is to put up in Jejuri that is dotted with small lodges or stay in Pune and make a day trip to Bhuleshwar.

The Bhuleshwar temple is unique in its architecture. Though it’s a Hindu temple dedicated to Lord Shiva, the temple tower portrays Islamic construction. I felt as if I was entering a mosque rather than a temple. On close observation, I see that the entire temple walls and pillars are exclusively carved with beautiful artwork on religious and mythological characters. Engrossed with the construction, I got busy capturing the moments. I learn that the stone with which it is constructed is known as Black Basalt rock. The domes at the top of the three main structures look like huge ribbed bulbs and with a central finial and there are multiple smaller spires around it.

The entire temple complex is fortified. As I walk around the temple and enter it, I am more surprised to see how the Mughal invaders have not spared even this temple. They have disfigured the beautiful carved sculptures of Apsaras (celestial maidens), Gandharvas-Yakshas (demi gods), bhaarvahakas (pillar capitals) that adorn the walls of the temple. The marks of hammers on the sculptures still bears the evidence of the barbaric acts on our Hindu Art. I am guided towards the hidden entrance through dark steps that takes me to the depths of the temple. I am enthralled by the carvings as I enter the main sanctum sanctorum. It was pretty dark inside and electric bulbs have been placed to see us through.

I needed a break to set my eyes in the darkness so I drop myself at one corner. The headless Apsara stands in front of me…looking at it, I wonder how she must have looked when she really danced for the Gods? Tired and blind in the darkness, I pick up my camera again and shoot her…she keeps dancing headless for me…

A Dream and the Mogras

My eyes were blind with the sudden darkness that I faced as I walked through the dark corridor. The openings on the ceiling allowed some natural light and holding my camera carefully, I supported myself with one hand on the wall. The stones felt cold. The black basalt rocks had smoothened by the years of weathering that has taken place.

I sat down as I faced difficulty to get my eyes set and that’s when I saw her…she stood in front of me…dancing…I was enthralled…I closed my eyes for few moments and rested my head on the pillar…the gold bangles jingled…the silver filigree anklets created a musical note with each step they took…the dhols at the background played on and the drums vibrated in my ears. They giggled as they walked down the corridor…swaying their well braided hair…whiff of fresh mogras created an ethereal moment. Young Apsaras or the maidens of the heaven as they are known as, all decked up for their evening dance performance to please the Gods of the temple, walked in groups. The dholakias and other court musicians followed them, whispering among themselves. Two servants led the group, holding on to the mashal. They used it to light the oil lamps that were placed inside the small parapets of the walls. The flames flickered in the darkness and the dancing shadows created a magical moment.

Suddenly a push on my shoulder and the entire scene just goes kaput…I open my eyes to find my friend looking at me with a quizzical smile. I realized being tired I had dozed off for few minutes and dreamt of those beautiful dancers who were now immortalized into beautiful stone sculptures and stood in front of me. I look up to her and that’s when I get back to actual reality…she was headless…she was tortured…she bore the brunt of the Mughal invasion…hammered and thudded…she just stood there lifeless - still in her dancing attire and ready for the drums to start beating. The mogras still smelling fresh.

A sudden pang of pain rushes through me and I click on…to take her back with me to make my memories linger on forever.

Mythological Extravaganza

It was a small trip to Jejuri and Bhuleshwar. Yet the memories still linger on. There was so much to capture and absorb that I am yet to overcome the hangover of sorts. The trip has been both so very spiritual and historical...

I was busy shooting the dilapidated statues and figurines of the apsaras, till my friends reminded me that we had much more left. The temple was dark and cold. There was very little light to shoot properly. Almost like clicking in the darkness, I shot few more statues. Truly speaking, I was so very lost after the dream where I travelled back to the history; I had no wish to leave the place. The mogra still lingered fresh.

I walk down the corridor trying to focus on anything that would be nice to share. Managing my steps in the darkness, holding my gear tight close to me so as not to damage it, even if I stumble, I baby walk carefully. Low light was causing difficulty. Through the narrow passage, I tiptoed. Suddenly, I see this lady in a bright saree intently looking at the panels. Amused with her bright presence, I wonder what she was looking at. I focus my eyes towards the direction she was looking and my eyes adapt to the darkness slowly. What I see leaves me speechless. The entire Bharat Milap scene from Ramayana was engraved in a perfect manner. I inch closer and try to capture the best that the lack of light could offer. The perfect stone sculptures were an artifact of the superb artisanship. 

For once I feel the urge to put down my gear and touch the stones. Sharp features and intricacies have been neatly carved…the courtesans and musicians all playing the instruments and expressing their happiness on return of Ram from 14 years of exile…brother Bharat waiting to greet his elder brother back and Ram himself waiting to hug his younger brother…they all feels so lively…so full of emotions. It feels as if some cruel knock of time has taken away their speech from them and put them into hibernation. I walk along the entire panel trying to grasp the epic moment. I feel an immense calmness and satisfaction and an aura around me.

As I walk down the alley feeling complete and one with the moment, I can feel the music and the songs being played as two brothers hug each other and tears of happiness and joy flow down their cheeks…after all, they have the same blood…aren’t brothers supposed to be close, caring and loving?

The Sanctum Sanctorum

A small town off the Pune Solapur highway could be so impactful (both in historical and spiritual aspect), I had no clue even as I had driven up hill. The trip was so worthwhile that whenever I sit to revisit my memories, I always place myself in a time machine that takes me back to the era of Mughal invaders, beautiful courtesans, dancers and excellent craftsmanship. 

Crossing the dark alleys and appreciating the excellent engraving on the stone panels, I finally reach the Sanctum Sanctorum. The dark stones make the area more mystical and magical. The temple was built in such tactical ways to hide the Garbha Griha from being ransacked by the Muslim invaders. I sit near the entrance and bow my head down with reverence. What catches my eyes is the amazing display of colors with the black basalt background. The mud colored husks of the coconuts, the greens of the revered bel patras, the yellows and oranges of the marigold, the reds of the gerberas and the whites of the mogras create a riot of colors. The brass lamp and the copper kalash sparkle and add to the aura whereas the stone walls bear the evidence of age-old weathering. Tainted they were yet holding fort even now. Even the priest in his red and white holy attire seemed to add in to the jamboree. I click a few shots that come out brilliant even in that darkness. Maybe it was HIS will.

Satisfied with my capture, I pack off my gear and step in. History embraces me and I get that typical smell prevalent in the old temples. The aroma of the burning ghee with a mix of the burning incense and the captivating fragrance of the flowers whiffs past me until my nose gives up. I sit there for few moments absorbing the sanctity of the place. Then I move out.

Feeling an inner peace, I slowly walk towards the exit. Camouflaging the temple with the help of Muslim architecture, multiple hidden entrances and dark alleys - the Yadava rulers tried all their means to protect this Hindu temple when they built it during the period of 1230AD. Yet they failed…yet they were overpowered…yet they were destroyed…

Yet it stands tall…across the ages and across all weathers…!!!

Nandi guards the Gates

The holy Sanctum Sanctorum had kept me enthralled for quite some time with its majestic display of the flowers around the Shivling. I sat at the entrance of the Garbh Griha and captured few frames to my likings. I was so much absorbed in the moment that I did not realize that it was getting late till my friend called me and requested me to move on. My feet seemed heavy while I stood up and gathered my gears to move out.

Carefully stepping out through the dark steps, I move out to see the eternal gate-guardian of Lord Shiva – The Nandi. Nandi is usually depicted as a bull serving as the Vahana to Lord Shiva. The structure stands in the center of Nandi Mandapa, which rests on 9 stone pillars engraved with endearing carvings. They have garlanded the statue with locally available flowers. One unique feature that keeps me wondering is that the head of the Nandi is turned towards the left, which is quite unusual. Looking up at the ceiling of the Mandapa is a visual treat in itself. What intrinsic architecture, what artistic engravings…I am left in awe of it all. As I roll my hands over the Nandi statue, I feel an inner peace and glow within. I feel a sense of completeness and an aura around me. I take a round of the statue while admiring the pillars surrounding it. My camera remains busy throughout as I do not want to miss out on any little details that might be hidden in the folds of the history engraved in the stone.

I have spent almost half the day inside the temple and have lived my spiritual and historical moments. I have dreamt of being in the temple with the courtesans, dancers and musicians. I have felt the blessings pour over me as I sat at the entrance of the Holy of the Holiest. I have soaked myself in the moments of real happiness and peace. I was content and satiated. Yet I never wished to leave the place. I stroll around some more and then take a step out.

I never knew the presence of such temple in and around Mumbai…then what was it that brought me here? Was it planned in my Destiny? Who plans our Life? Questions galore…I step out…!

Route to Exit

Destiny is what I believe in strongly. If it has been planned and has to happen, it will happen and no one can stop it or deter the happening. It is better to accept the facts whether good or bad and move on. This helps to maintain the balance of emotions, especially if it causes depression, dejection, or a state of melancholy.

I am sure my Bhuleshwar trip too was destined to happen and it has influenced me so much that I have lived my moments in the temple. It’s been an entire day now and I still let myself wander around admiring and appreciating the Hindu architecture in Mughal disguise. Build to resemble a mosque with dark multiple entrances and narrow alleys, it was meant to protect the monument from the attacks of the Mughals…but alas! It failed miserably.

The visit to the Garbha Griha and the pious moment near the Nandi lets me step out of the temple with me dragging my feet heavily with no wish at all to go out. The dark cold inside is much soothing in contrast to the extreme heat outside. While I walk slowly reminiscing the dream that came to me of the bygone era…the statues of the women musicians intrigue me. They stand as evidence to the cruelty of the Muslim invaders, the way they destroyed our rich cultural heritage. As I look up at one of them, the stone statues seem to talk to me as if some possessed soul is trapped inside. As if the soul wants to break free and once again play the dhol and dance to its rhythm. Not sure, what happens to me, I hear the sounds of the ghungroos and the dhol as I click on to capture the dancing statues, my eyes eagerly searching for the trapped soul inside. Was she there, was she calling me, was she asking for freedom of some kind? I feel possessed I feel hypnotized…

Time stops still and I keep standing there…the noise of destruction plays havoc inside my head, hammers clanging to break the stone dancing girls, the screams and screeches of the Hindu priests trying to save their holy temple from the clutches of the barbaric Muslim invaders, the devotees shrieking to protect their Sanctum Sanctorum from the touch of the destroyers…I feel the moment again…

I do not want to move out and come out of the trance. Yet, I have to…the outside beckons me…so much more to see, so much more to do and so much more to live.

The Final Exodus

Today as I sit to type about my Bhuleshwar trip, I feel pretty nostalgic. It was lovely pondering about the trip. I lived each moment from the time I saw the first glimpse of the temple till the time I got its last view…the sanctity of the place had embalmed me with a soothing divine feeling.

Once I was out from the dark passage of the temple, I felt a fresh whiff of air hitting my face. Been inside since morning and all the cold darkness seems to have overpowered my vision. I went blind as the setting sun hit my eyes. But the view was so enchanting, that I stood still. I forgot all about capturing the moment. With my camera hanging around my neck, I stood and breathed in the setting sun and absorbed its aura…the glow so enchanting that I was lost in the moment. I looked up and the blue sky seemed to invite me with open arms. I walked a little more towards the edge of the temple and looked beneath. The valley seemed magical under the lights of the setting sun. I was awestruck. I sat down under the tree and rested my tired soul. Felt like the one who had been walking through the ages looking for some solace, some peace and some succor…!

Shot few frames and then got up…time was running out and it was time to leave the place. As I walked out, this huge iron bell caught my fancy. Too heavy to make it ring, I feel the smooth cold iron and then the enlightenment happens…I walk a little further to shoot this particular parting shot…I feel calm I feel holy I feel the divinity seeping into me

I take a last bow looking at the temple that so very looked like a mosque and leave the place with a glow that I could feel shinning on my face…I leave with the wish to return again…I leave with a hope to see the temple again…!!!

Disclamer: The author is a travel blogger and the views expressed in this article are his own

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