Kalna’s baked royalty

Contrary to the rest of Kalna’s terracotta treasures, the Rajbari or Royal complex had been beautifully preserved and well maintained. The complex had sprawled on either sides of the road and I had walked into the famed 108 Shiva Temples in awe. Built in 1809 by Maharaja Tej Chandra Bahadur, the complex had been an architectural jewel. Dedicated to Lord Shiva, the 108 temples had been built in traditional aat chala (8 sloped roofed) style in 2 beautiful concentric circles. Supposedly representing rosary beads or jaapmala, the outer ring had 74 temples with the rest 34 circling within. Each small temple had a Shiva Linga (Hindu religious icon) inside and all had been fully functional religious structures. It is said that while the temples inside the inner circle had only white Lingas, the outer structures had contained alternating black and white ones.

The 108 Shiva Temples, also known as Nava Kailasha, had been beautiful and the quiet, sunlit courtyard had somehow magically shut out the outside festive din. An old wood apple tree had stood in the middle of the inner courtyard and apart from plump, feathered bib sporting sparrows, nobody had been around. The temples had close to the heart of the patron Maharaja and he had celebrated his wealth and ownership of the prosperous Bishnupur estate, through them. Lovely manicured lawns had separated the concentric temple circles and a tinkling garden hose had splashed merrily over brilliant hibiscus beds. I had loved sitting in its circular shadows and watching the noon sun cast revolving shadows around the complex, when rushing time had beckoned me to move on.

Although, the other part of the Rajbari Complex had been on the opposite side of the road, but after the tranquility of the 108 Shiva Temples, it had seemed like another planet. Crowded with people in their Sunday best, the complex had been filled with screaming excited children, their hassled yelling parents and gun totting tourists from Calcutta, who had looked down upon them. The complex however had been worth it and the large concentration of temples had been an eclectic mix of Bengal’s religious architecture. The stunning Pratapeshwar Temple had been its highlight and every inch of the rekha style structure had been filled with ornamentation. A traditional Bengal temple architectural style, rekha deul had been unique. A towering beautifully curving shikhara had sat atop a square sanctum with rekhas (vertical column like projections) snaking along the sides. The curvaceous facade had been covered with intricate meshed decorations and a large holy pot (kalasa) had topped the tower. The terracotta plaques had been rich and  beautifully preserved and in the hot spring sun, the old baked earth had glowed a warm red.

Scenes from the holy Hindu epics like Ramayana had been depicted richly on the walls and terracotta peasants, mothers, soldiers, courtiers etc had peeped out from delicate silvery mesh of cobwebs. Pratapeshwar Temple had been built in 1849 by King Pratap Chandra and it had sat at the prized corner of a well kept lawn amongst Bengal’s most beautiful religious structures. The gorgeous Lalji Temple had been close by and apart from being the oldest monument in the complex, it also had beautifully preserved terracotta panels. Built by queen Braja Kishori Devi in 1739, the temple had 25 steeples and scenes from holy Puranas had encircled the base. The detailing had been mind blowing and the miniature panels had mustachioed men, sporting pleated turbans, bejeweled ladies, mythical and animals, barges etc depicting Hindu religious stories. Terracotta flowers had wreathed along the entire panels and the sun had lit up their delicate petals in irregular perfect circle. Lacy mesh had been interspersed between the floral forest and religious figures and they had been detailed almost to a fault.

The sprawling Krishnachandra Temple had been lovely too and the complex also had several mini structures like the roofless Rash Mancha, flat topped Giri Govardhan Temple etc. I had moved deeper into its terracotta depths and had waited under a huge banyan tree for some respite from the mid day sun. Although springs just about give hints of the oppressive Indian summer, their afternoons get pretty hot. The old banyan tree had drooped comfortingly over the old aat chala (8 roofed) temple and its cool shade had made even the omnipresent boisterous crows quiet. It had been peaceful, tranquil and the festive sounds of the crowd had been muffled. Cocooned in the soundless, peaceful spiritual womb, I had never realized when sleep had overcome me and my friend had found me happily curled up in a relaxed catnap. Perhaps it had been the pleasant surprise of the preserved terracotta temples of Kalna or the spiritual aura of that spring afternoon, which had made me feel so content, but during my entire return journey I had a smile fixed on my face.

Snippets of favourite songs had poured out in hums as rural Bengal had melted into deepening dusk. A glorious orange sunset had set the local train compartment on soft glowing fire and it had been the perfect start of my Bengal’s treasure trails. Re discovering home had never been so much fun.

RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE