Veranda Tales-Feeling at home anywhere

Storytelling has been an integral part of my life since childhood. I grew up listening to stories during the hot summer evenings and nights with my cousins. Mothers and grandmothers would gather all of us children for story time. It was usually pitch dark except for a very faint light coming from the flickering candle. Power cuts were as frequent as the hot and humid summer days. We all spread out on a cool concrete floor or bamboo mats on the veranda intently listening to fascinating stories about kings, queens, princes, princesses, and peasants alike. Stories about love, life, families, and people entertained and taught us life skills. These stories transported us to distant worlds, strange yet familiar. Often the same story told by two people sounded different as storytellers added new twists and turns adding their personal style and flair to the stories.

Storytelling wasn’t limited to summer evenings and bedtime. I was surrounded by adults who didn’t pass up an opportunity to share their wisdom using the art of storytelling. These rich vibrant oral traditions include songs, poems, stories, and సామెతలు (Sametalu are proverbs in Telugu). Men and women sing songs as they work in the fields, grinding grains and spices and doing other daily chores at their homes. Stories are often used to teach important life lessons, interpersonal skills, and survival skills. These stories and the time spent listening to them made our lives richer leaving an impression on me. This series is all about reliving those memories as I share these stories.

రెంటికీ చెడిన రేవడి చందాన (rentiki chedda revadi chandaana)

My life partner said to me, “Hey! a little girl was excitedly waving at you back there while you were lost in your thoughts looking at the temple carvings.” I looked around to spot the little girl and her family. The girl and her family disappeared into the crowds at the gorgeous Virupaksha temple grounds. I was a bit sad that I lost an opportunity for a connection even if it is in the form of a smile and a wave. I asked my partner if she looked disappointed. My partner said, “I think so. She looked a bit disappointed. I overheard her mother telling her that you are an American and might not have understood the language”. We both chuckled at the characterization of me being an American in India. We are both of Indian ancestry and were born and raised in India until we moved away in our early twenties. It appears people can tell very quickly if we are playing tourist or live there.

We moved on to checking out the rest of the విరూపాక్ష (Virupaksha) temple as we listened to our guide explaining the history of the temple and what the name విరూపాక్ష (Virupaksha) represents. విరూపాక్ష (Virupaksha) means “the one who can see beyond what normal eyes can see”. The name is associated with Lord Shiva who is believed to have a third eye with which he can perceive and see beyond the limitation of normal vision. His third eye is believed to be very powerful. He can merely open his third eye to set fire and destroy enemies and the entire universe at the end of the world. The విరూపాక్ష (Virupaksha) temple began as a small shrine to విరూపాక్ష (Virupaksha) and his consort పంప దేవి (Pampa Devi) in the 7th century CE. The temple grew during the విజయనగర (Vijayanagar) empire.

Our guide took us to an underground chamber where you can see the inverted image of the రాజ గోపురం (Raja gopuram) using a clever natural pinhole camera mechanism. A small opening in one of the శాలు మండప (Saalu mandapa - pillared platform) serves as the pinhole to cast the inverted image on a wall in an underground chamber. రాజ గోపురం (Raja gopuram) is a large pyramid shaped tower at the entrance to the inner sanctum of a Hindu temple. The underground chamber is designed so people could touch the inverted image and pay respects to the sacred part of the temple which is off limits to touch even if one could climb up to the tippy top. The room has a rock slab seating space for people to sit and pause for a second and close their eyes. In addition to this clever inverted image, the temple architecture has intricate repeating patterns which snake up to the tippy top of the ever narrowing pyramidal shared temple, and ornately carved pillars that hold up the roofs of lage stone మండపాలు (ranga mandapalu). These are a few examples etched in stone that speak to the mathematical skills and precise measurements used in the constructions of these massive temples.

We went on our next stop,  the విఠల (Vittala) temple complex which is home to a large monolithic రాతి రథం (Rati ratham is stone chariot in Telugu) and musical pillars. I was glad to see that రాతి రథం (Rati ratham) is protected from people climbing all over it to take pictures as we had done on my previous visit four decades ago. I went to find one of the 56 musical pillars in large రంగమండపాలు (ranga mandapalu), elaborate dance floors built around the temple. These  రంగ మండపాలు (Ranga mandapalu) were used as platforms for dance performances held in honor of kings and queens marking special occasions and festivals in the విజయనగర (Vijayanagar) empire. 

The రంగమండప (Ranga mandapa) known for its musical pillars was cordoned off. I was disappointed, but not discouraged. I climbed up the steep rock stairs to step on to the రంగమండప (Ranga mandapa) right next to the one that was cordoned off. I was hoping there might be musical pillars on other రంగమండపాలు (ranga mandapalu). I kept striking the ornate stone pillars with my knuckles one after another to spot the ones that are musical. My knuckles were hitting the solid stone as I moved from one pillar to another. Other visitors around me were doing the same thing, all of us looking like crazy people. My knuckles started to hurt by the time I finally found one. Success at last, as my knuckles hit a pillar which felt hollow and made the music I was dying to hear. I was so excited and called out to share this with the rest of my traveling party.

Once the mission to find the musical pillars was accomplished, I started to notice other visitors around me. There was a couple with small children looking for musical pillars. They came running when I found one. The couple had two small children, a cute little girl who looked to be six years of age, and her equally cute brother who looked to be about three years. The dad spotted my partner’s camera and requested him to take a picture of his family. Once the picture was taken, they wanted to see it. They were so excited to see themselves on the small screen of the camera. They walked away very excited, thanking profusely. There were several family groups, large and small, visiting the ruins. I kept running into the same family groups as I went from one ruin to the other. They were dressed in colorful clothing as people do in India. I gathered from talking to a family group that they came for the జాతర (Jathara) which was being held on the occasion of full moon in మాఘమాసం (Maghamasam), the eleventh month of the Hindu calendar. జాతర (Jathara) is a large fair held to commemorate festivals. Seasonal markets spring up around a temple site, people from neighboring places come together to celebrate the occasion with festivities and parades.

We found ourselves in the middle of a parade of bullock carts on our way back to our hotel. We were driving beside the fast moving festively decorated bullock carts as they were racing by us one after another. They were going faster than us in a car as we were driving carefully so we could stay out of the way of carts. All of the bulls were decorated with garlands around their necks and turmeric and kumkum on their foreheads and horns. We finally ceded the main road to the carts detouring onto a side road. People dressed in colorful clothing were walking along the road right next to the bullock carts. It was amazing to watch the జాతర (Jathara) after many years.

We ran into more families the next day. A teenage girl from a large family group struck up a conversation with me at the అచ్యుతరాయ (Achyutaraya) temple complex. She asked me where I was from using a mix of కన్నడ(Kannada) and తెలుగు (Telugu) words. I told her where I was from and asked where she was from in తెలుగు (Telugu). Surprisingly we chatted for a while as we both exchanged information about each other. She told me she lives in బళ్లారి (Ballari), a city we stopped in to visit an Archeological museum on our way to Hampi. బళ్లారి (Ballari) is home to a large number of తెలుగు (Telugu) speakers. This explains why we were able to have a meaningful conversation using a mix of కన్నడ(Kannada) and తెలుగు (Telugu) words. She said they came from బళ్లారి (Ballari) for the జాతర (Jathara) as they do once a year. The entire family requested us to take a picture of them. Just like the other family at the విఠల (Vittala) temple complex, they were so excited to see themselves on the small screen of the camera. They made an impression on me with them deriving pleasure from simple things in life.

The teenager and I kept running into each other as we circled the temple complex looking down into the wells, climbing up onto the platform around the temple complex. She reminded me of me as a teenager visiting these places four decades ago. I wondered, “Did I look as unassuming and radiant as she does?”. As I was leaving the విరూపాక్ష (Virupaksha) temple saying bye to the ruins, I saw the teenager again as she walked from their camping area towards a water faucet to fetch water for cooking their meal. She was carrying a bright orange plastic బిందె (binde - a small narrow necked pot). I noticed a large light green van where her mother was starting a fire for cooking.

That reminded me of the teenager asking me earlier that morning if I was from Ameriki (America). That got me thinking about how I seem to be perceived as a foreigner in the country of my birth as well as in the adopted one. “రెంటికీ చెడిన రేవడి చందాన (rentiki chedda revadi chandaana)” sameta which means, “Ruined for both or Neither here nor there”, came to my mind. Do I truly not belong to either place? I would like to think that is not the case. I feel like I belong to both places as I can fit right into both places. I feel comfortable in both cultures and feel at home. I am thankful for the gift of being able to feel at home anywhere in the world for the most part. I feel good about the fact that the teenager and I could comfortably hold a meaningful conversation with all of our differences in language, family backgrounds, and social background. There lies the true beauty of human existence and this earth we call home.