Cauvery Basin: The temple town of Kumbakonam and Darasuram

Everywhere in the temple town of Kumbakonam, at the heart of the cauvery delta, worship was noisy and social not like the whispering of the dark, cold churches of my childhood. Around the sacred Mahamakam tank, where every twelve years the nine sacred rivers of India come to cleanse themselves of human sins, there were kum kum, fresh coconut and tea sellers nestled under the shade of ancient temple carts. The scent of garlands sweetened the air and shops selling glass bangles twinkled rainbows of light onto men making bronzes by burning wax effigies into the shapes of gods.

In the pillared hall of the eighteenth century Sarangapani temple college students meandered between huge rearing papier-mache horses, endlessly revising out loud from textbooks. Amongst the sculpted pillars in the seventeenth century Ramaswamy temple were groups of old men playing games on the floor with tamarind seeds and chalk outlines. Even the sculptures came to life with a wife carved on either side of the pillar, both gazing lovingly at their husband, neither able to see the other woman. At the Nageshvara temple with its exquisite ninth century Chola figures a man was washing his cow and priests sat reading prayers out loud in singsong rhythms.

At the seventeenth century Adikumbheshvara temple, where Shiva's arrow shattered the cosmic pot containing the divine nectar of creation, there was an elephant waiting to bless pilgrims. As I watched the mahout returned and the elephant exploded into a paroxysm of pleasure curling his trunk around and around the man, ruffling his hair, buffeting his body and screeching with joy.

I was, though, beginning to feel I had had my fill of temples but was told of a Chola masterpiece I must see, about three kilometres outside Kumbakonam, in Darasuram. The twelfth century Airavateshvara temple was an archaeological site with no one there at all but me and an old priest bent double with age. I am told that sadly he is no longer with us as it was through his tricks and stories that the sculptures and reliefs came alive.
 "See there, the carving can be an elephant or a bull. There the women are helping their friend give birth. Around the pillars watch the goddess Parvati prepare with joy and dancing for her wedding."