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Man, mammon and nature

A unique symbiosis exists between nature and history in the grand temples of Angkor Wat

ARRESTING SIGHT The Angkor Wat temple

The name of Angkor Wat in Cambodia evokes images of intensely beautiful South-East Asian dancers, quiet woods and elaborately carved bas-reliefs.

Having imagined its grandeur for years, one is filled with awe when standing there at last, getting a first glimpse of the famous temple towers, so similar, yet different from the gopurams of the temples of South and West India.

The funny thing is the awe-inspiring objects are not, at first sight, the temples themselves, but the hordes of T-shirt-clad, sun-hat sporting tourists, trekking in unending lines across the courtyards practically obscuring the monuments.

But then, who is to say they have not also been dreaming half a lifetime to visit the place?

Spiritual significance

While Angkor Wat is perhaps the best known temple complex, the entire Angkor region contains a number of temple clusters, some of which are still in the process of being reclaimed from the jaws, so to speak, of Nature.

The thriving Khmer empire built its major cities here between the 9th and the 14th Centuries. When the Khmer civilisation declined and the cities were abandoned, the woods quietly covered them up. The wooden buildings all vanished. That's why only the stone temples remain.

Places for spiritual pursuits have outlasted the secular, yet many of these too are so firmly entwined with the mighty trees that they will never stand alone again.

An aerial view of the temple complex

Man, mammon and nature, in a telling power hierarchy. Is there an allegory to be found here?

Take the complex of Ta Prohm. Science fiction is a poor thriller next to the sight of the stone buildings here, eaten up by the roots of enormous trees, centuries old.

Yet there is no sense of antagonism here, only a serene acceptance. Symbiosis too prevails, since the trees cannot stand without the stone structures round which they have wrapped their roots, and the buildings, in turn, would tumble down without the support of the trees.

You can't see much of the detailing at Ta Prohm, since work on the site is currently underway, and some areas are barred to visitors, but the sculpturesque combination of wood, leaf and stone is anyway worth the stroll. Under a memorandum of understanding between India and Cambodia, a restoration team is at work.

At the Bayon complex, the entrance path is flanked by a procession of four-faced pillars with characteristic Buddha-like features, believed to be a likeness of King Jayavarman VII, who built the place. If walls could speak... goes the saying. One only needs to take a look at the bas-reliefs here and at Angkor Wat to see walls in a full-blown babble of conversation.

Not everything is clear though, and a lot of guesswork goes into deciphering the meaning of the pictures.

Dance is an important motif. But war is also depicted, reminding us of the protracted struggle of the Khmers against the invading Champa armies from the region now known as Vietnam. Then there are scenes from everyday life at home.

Tales from the epics

At Angkor Wat, stories from the Mahabharata, the Ramayana and other Puranas are depicted with tantalising familiarity. Now you see a Ravan, his several heads rising vertically above him, instead of horizontally as we are used to seeing in India; now you see an animal figure. Is it Hanuman coming to the aid of Lord Ram? And is that Jatayu fighting Ravan? The reliefs are blurred with centuries of wear and tear, and without an expert opinion it is difficult to draw conclusions.

The Ta Prohm complex

One of the most stunning panels shows the churning of the ocean of milk by the Devas and Asuras. The dynamic angle of the bodies on either side holding the snake Vasuki with Lord Vishnu as the tortoise poised in the centre, all recreate the tumult of the scene. Then, there are the apsaras or the celestial dancers. Women are meant to be seen and not heard. Of the hundreds of smiling apsaras carved on the walls of Angkor Wat, there is only one depicted laughing with her teeth showing.

Some of the statues are being `worshipped'. The faithful pay a dollar for a few sticks and make their offering. This practice is common to statues of the Buddha as well as of the Hindu gods. The self-styled priests are not the only ones trying to make a living out of the tourist traffic. Landmine victims grouped into orchestras play melodious music on the grounds. A signboard before them says they want to earn a decent living.

Surrounded by such beauty, one ponders on the ability of human beings to go to war, despite centuries of experience. Man, mammon and nature. When will we ever learn?

ANJANA RAJAN

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