I have been to hampi over the last weekend . On first look anyone will observe the boulders made of Mountains. The whole terrain is filled up with the curious pattern of boulders big and small. They are so precariously arranged you may wonder you can disturb the whole thing by rolling one of them. They are attributed to the erosion due to the flow of rivers for millions of years. Hampi as is not just famous for its landscape , its a land of gods , myths , stories , of the splendor of the vijayanagara empire . Its just not that its about the great dreams that humans conjure and the meaninglessness time makes out of it .
Once a seat of imperial majesty , a stupendous achievement in art , the amazing sculptors now much like a lost child . As time flows by it seems as if Hampi being left alone at one side , and as you observe the buzzing tourist business you wonder whether it was left alone as people say.
Its a curious imagery seeing those magnificent temples , the remains are so amazing that you cannot control yourself asking this question , how great this city would have looked . As with most historical events there is no logic attributed to events , they are want they are and how they turned out to be.
The fascinating temples , the statues speak to us of a time , a time wherein they were erected with all the glory to be destroyed eventually . If you want to metamorphically express the event of a pralayam , there is no place better to capture this than Hampi.
As we were travelling through the city we were trying to guess the various meanings and plausible explanations of the monuments we saw . We were constantly trying to unravel a mystery hidden deeply inside time.
The temples were characteristic of the vijayanagara empire with pillared mandapams , the characteristic Yaali in all its glory . The sheer variety of the temples sculptures will leave u gasping for breath . The nature of any classic art is there is very little room for variance , but still the artist achieves glory through the finesse he expresses in it. They look all the same yet they are so different. Even in Hampi the quality of sculptures is so different when you see it at the virupaksha temple and compare it with the Vijaya Vitala temple although they are the very same forms.
The ruins of hampi remained me of climax of Vishnupuram a novel by Jeyamohan. In this novel the city of vishnupuram being a royal seat of power , a rich center of culture and knowledge meets eventual destruction much like how the Diwali flower pot having burnt and illuminated expressed all its joy extinguishes in a moment. If you observe the left out casing the next day of Diwali you wonder whether is this the same thing that produced the same happiness and illumination ? Where in all the happiness gone ? The very same question was lingering in my minds as I made my travel back home…