Sunday, March 13, 2011

Spare the monument the saga our small romances

Do we love our history without a sense of responsibility? We tend not to learn much from the past but we find it convenient to bask in the glory of the heroic deeds of our ancestors. I think we all like carrying the load of our golden past without really bothering to care for it. Last week a few village youngsters from around Sinhagad “cleaned” the fort. They rubbed off names and vehicle numbers scribbled over the ruins, the only tangible link that ties us to our past.

Protecting the sanctity of Sinhagad or any monument for that matter should not be just a passing fad. I don’t wish to imply that I support the deployment of culture police at all these spots. The views of the cultural police verge on fanaticism. They have fixed notions about the 'good' and 'bad' aspects of Indian culture as they interpret it. But we need to learn the etiquettes of monument tourism. The world famous Kailas at Ellora, the stupa at Karla caves, the rock-cut images of Shiva and Vishnu at Badami, the magnificent temple complex of Patadakkal, the huge high reliefs at Elephanta, remains of the magnificent bajarpeth -- the market place atop Fort Raigad, or the now neglected Shilahar dynasty fort in the wilderness of the Western Ghats. If we want others to see these as virtual bridges to our glorious past, their sanctity needs to be preserved.

Hardly any of these great works of art is a signed piece. Sculptors who livened up the otherwise lifeless stones have left no names on their awe-inspiring creations. The only exception I found was in Raigad. The 17th century Maratha architect Hiroji Indulakar who rebuilt Raigad as the capital of Maratha raj has had two lines inscribed on the steps of the Jagadishwar temple. It reads: Seveche thai tatpar/Hiroji Indulkar (at your service, always, says Hiroji). There is so much humility to the man's claim. The place Hiroji chose to get his name engraved is one of the steps leading to the Jagdishwar temple, a spot which is not easy to notice unless it is pointed out. This is the only instance I know of a person who actually planned and worked on a project of this kind leaving his signature. The words Shri Chamundaraye Karveeyale carved at the foot of the great monolith statue of Bahubali at Shravanbelgol announces the name of the king who commissioned the work, and not of those who actually worked with the huge stone face.

Then what’s so great about leaving our names on these monuments?

Whenever I go to Sinhagad or Karla caves, I often wonder how these monument walls feel about being treated as billboards announcing the romance of faceless couples who had a good spent a happy day up here. This is the sad story of almost every forlorn fort of Maharashtra. And these edifices are the only thing we have to showcase the glorious history we never cease boasting about. Ironically, these monument were once the most critical sites of strategic planning in this region. At some of these, our ancestors have sacrificed their lives to defend their land.

I think the only way we can show respect for our culture and our past is by treating our monuments with greater respect and responsibility. And their preservation should be a matter of reason, not some fanatical sentiment.

(First published in Maharashtra Herald on April 14, 2005)