A travel to India’s lost city

Nandagopal Rajan

THE FIELDS spread till the horizon in a hundred hues of black and brown. No sign of habitation for kilometers, just a couple of hamlets and towns…so few and far between. Little would you know that a few miles ahead were the greatest metropolis medieval India had seen. There was a bent in the road, a gateway and towering rock formations hiding from view the fabled city of Hampi, the seat of Vijayanagara, India’s lost empire.
You’ve heard so much that you still don’t know what to expect at Hampi. Fears that the avarice of the soul might lead to disappointment are erased as soon as you see the first signs of stone structures. It’s all stone, most in such a state there’s no way to find out what were used to be, still those pillars and foundations bait you in a way only the mystery of history can.
Driving downhill into the Tungabadra Valley that nestles the Virupaksha Temple one cannot help but wonder the grandeur the city must have held during the time of the great Krishna Devaraya, who made Vijayanagar the greatest empire of the south. Incidentally, the Virupaksha Temple is the only undestroyed structure in whole of Hampi, a stark reminder of the six months of plunder and vandalism that followed the fall of the empire in 1565.
Half a millennia ago, travelers used to compare the city to Rome and Milan and told stories of this city and its riches in distant shores. Now, it’s a ghost haunted by tourist guides, European and Israeli backpackers — thanks to its close proximity to Goa — package tour groups and history buffs.
The nearest town is Hospet, about three hours from Hubli and 350 km from Bangalore, has some reasonable hotels and eating joints.
It’s ideal to get a tourist guide, otherwise the whole exercise could take at least a couple of days — the ruins lie scattered in over 26 sq km. If on a time-strapped tour, it’s better to book a guide for half a day and limit yourself to the more wonderful monuments of what this city of wonders has to offer.
A ghost city? Yes. But, Hampi is an active archaeological site as well. This means you could see a lot of new sites if you come back after a couple of years. In fact half of the city was dug up in the last two decades.
The first point is always the Virupaksha Temple, the 120-feet tower of which is still the tallest in whole of Karnataka. The temple, parts of which are older than Vijayanagar, has some excellent specimens of roof paintings.
The 6.7-m monolith of Ugra Narasimha is one of the more photographed icons of Indian history. Restoration attempts have breathed back some of its mutilated grandeur, but legend has it that the Laxminarasimha of the past was, and maybe still is, unparalleled in Indian art.
Similar are the monolith Mustard Ganesa and the even bigger Kadalekallu Ganesa, that can dwarf even the biggest idols of the elephant god on has set eyes on. The latter for instance was carved out of a single granite stone into its present 4.5-m, though badly mutilated, existence.
The royal residential areas, the three great bazaars, one of which used to trade only in precious stones, and the fort all stand tall even in their marauded forms. The Lotus Mahal, in the water-cooled confines of which the queens used to spent their sultry summers days, and the equally regal Queens Bath have been saved of the vagaries of plundering hoardes due to the Islamic styled of their architecture.
The Vijaya Vittalla Temple, the grandest of the of the metropolis’ structures, was however not that lucky. This temple was and ode in stone to the great victory’s of Krishna Devaraya and his illustrious predecessors. The stone chariot, for instance, is symbol of his victories in Orissa, a small-scale attempt to recreate the chariots at Konark.
But the real wonder lies within the Hall of Musical Pillars. Even with half its roof on the temple floor, each pillar emanates a different note or sound of musical instrument. The carvings on the temple walls are also unique for its eye for detail and craftsmanship.
However, great stone foundations are all that remain of the palaces and darbars, their sandalwood structures long reduced to ashes. It is said that when Vijayanagara burnt, the whole region was filled with the scent of sandalwood, and that too for 45 days.
A round of the city, however short, transports you back into an age when the city and its inhabitants had no counterparts in the realms of power and wealth.
But to put the experience to words is no easy task.
Fernao Nuniz, a Portuguese traveller who set foot on the city when there were still idols in the temples and sandalwood roofs on the palaces had just the words. “But I cease to speak more of this because I should never finish…”. Five violent centuries later, I could not agree more.