Humongous Train Stations, Amazing Bas-Reliefs, and Quaint Seaside Towns

As we chased the ever disappearing form of Sanjay through the train station, boarded our bus (that had driven through the night to reach Chennai while we'd all comfortably enjoyed a seven hour train ride) and drove through the streets of Chennai, there were a few conclusions I made.

Firstly, that the Chennai Rail Station is like its own mini city. The place was so huge that without Sanjay to guide us, we may have wandered for ages attempting (and failing) to find our way out. The enclosed space was large enough to swallow whole trains, provide ample space for masses to sleep (on scarily filthy floors), eat, and shove their way around. As we raced for the exit, it seemed like there was a manic energy in the air that pulsated with the need to consume any traveler that got separated from their group. 

Secondly, there seems to be different types of trains in the country, or at least at this mega station. One type of train was the fully air-conditioned train with windows that didn't open and doors that shut. Then there was the commuter train, that seemed like a deadlier version of a BART train as there were no windows or doors, just openings where those should have been. The last train I saw was the one that scared me the most. It seemed like a series of rejected or left over Nazi cattle cars. These where metal contraptions with bunked unforgiving slabs marked as "sleeper cars" and hard, solid chairs in fixed positions for the seats. The windows were open, but had metal slats that could be partially closed if need be. If the visage of these horrible vehicles didn't give you the willies just looking at them, the smells emanating from then as we hurried by were sure to deter you.

We drove through the throngs of deziens out to enjoy the cooler temperatures of the evening and I realized that I don't think India ever sleeps. Like any of the other countries that I've been to where the average temperatures are in the 100s, it seems that life revolves around the cooler, dark hours. Even at 10 pm, the streets were alive with whole families out for a stroll.

While Chennai and its massive train station were an experience and site to see, it was not our real destination; that honor belonged to Mahabalipuram. Mahabalipuram, it turns out that this is the home of Sanjay and his family, so he loves it when the tour pulls into town, especially as this became our home town for the next two days.

Mahabalipuram actually has two main names; the first is Mahabalipuram, meaning "Great Sacrifice Town" and the second it Mamallapuram meaning "Mamalla's Town" (he was the beloved King during the 7th century who played a hand in most of the monuments' creation). The town is known for its numerous temples, shrines, and reliefs. The Decent of the Ganges is largest open air bas-relief in the world. This relief depicts the descent of the sacred river Ganges to earth from the heavens as led by Bhagiratha. There are attribute of various different gods and goddesses, sacred animals, and Hindu concepts. Unfortunately, the relief, like many of the other temples in the area, was never finished due to continual war in the area (tribal/cultural/religious warfare was pretty common in the region during the 6-8th centuries AD).

The relief is part of a group of 40 monuments that are now collectively considered a UNESCO World Heritage Site. On a plot of land that is only a kilometer or two squared, there are multiple temples, what was stated to be a prehistoric kindergarten (a stab of rock with a built in slide), what is believed to be an art school where students could practice their stone carving, a lighthouse, a quarry, and the "Butter Ball," an enormous granite rock that appears to be precariously balanced on a slanted slab of granite, but is noted for being quite stable and immovable. Local legend says that the old Raja of the area attempted to move the large circular stone with the aid of seven elephants and failed. 

The temples in this region remind me of Petra in Jordan and the stone work of the Nabataeans. Here was another culture that carved straight into solid rock to create magnificent rooms and columns. The different between the two cultures, is that where the Nabataeans focused on the exteriors while leaving the interiors blank, the Pallava's (name of the Kings in the area during the construction period) created both exterior and interior masterpieces. All of the temples had carvings depicting different scenes from the mythology of the Hindu people and their belief structure.

One such carving tells the story of King Bali (an Asura King) and Vamana (the fifth incarnation of Vishnu). This is the story that also gives the town its name. The story starts long ago with King Bali, was a benevolent king that won reign over Earth, Heaven, and Hell. The Devas, who had lost the realm of Heaven to Bali, entreated Vishnu to help them it it back. Vishnu agrees and goes to the Kingndisguished as a small boy, his fifth reincarnation. When the king asks what the small boy wants, he asks for a three step ladder. The king laughs and asks why he doesn't want gold or jewels or fame? The boy replies that he has no family who'd need money nor a want of riches and would just like the three step ladder. Seeing no harm in the request, the king grants it. Vishnu, now revealed in his true form, takes the first step of the ladder and covers the earth with it. He then takes the second step of the ladder and covers the sky. Vishnu looks at the king and says, "Where can I put the third step?" The king knows he has been beaten and that he can not go back on his word to the god and therefore lays his head upon the ground and tells Vishnu that he may put the third step on top of him. Thus King Bali sacrifices himself and forever cements himself as a hero in the eyes of the people. Seeing the love of his people and the king's faith as he willingly is sent to the netherworld, Lord Vishnu has a change of heart and raises King Bali to the highest pillar in heaven. The King only asked that once every year he gets to visit again with his people; and thus a holiday and legend are born in one fell swoop. I love folklore.

We learned the aforementioned story and more of similar themes as we peddled around the area on a tour with a local guide. It was nice to get in some exercise and the morning ride allowed us to see the arouse sites before the heat of the day (it was so sad how hot is seemed to us foreigners when this was the areas winter and about 40 degrees cooler than summer time) drove everyone to the beach or indoors.

In additional to the relief, the "Butter Ball," the lighthouse, and a few small temples, we cycled to the Pancha Rathas (translates as Five Chariots) and to the Shore Temple. The Pancha Rathas were a monument built to the five mythological brothers that were all married to the same woman and part of some legends that are popular in the north of India. Each brother had on temple built for them on the site and each was in a different architectural style. At some later date in time, a sixth temple to Ganesha was added. Since none of the temples were ever fully completed, no one actually worships at the site. To add awe to the already amazing site, is the knowledge that all of the temples and their corresponding granite animals outside of them, were carved from one solid piece of rock. That's right folks, these "chariots" we're not made one by one and then placed here, but all carved one by one from a gargantuan piece of granite.

The Shore Temple is only remaining temple that now sits on the coast of the Bay of Bengal. There used to be seven temples, giving the town yet another moniker, Seven Padgodas, but the other six have since fallen into the sea. During the 2004 tsunami that took out large parts of Thailand and sent a huge wave around the world, the waters receded for miles from the shoreline near the Shore Temple and locals were able to see the remnants of the other temples and buildings that had long since been swallowed up by the sea. Some day archaeologists might be able to dredge up some treasures from their watery graves.

By noon the bike-riding-sight-seeing tour was over and we were set free to explore the town on our own. The city of Mahabalipuram didn't look like much when we first arrived, but after our bike ride, I soon saw that there were many amazing areas to be explored. The beautiful thing about the town is that it is right on the coast and sports a gorgeous beach. Many of our fellow travelers took the opportunity for a little sun bathing and relaxation, while Em and I perused the kitschy gift shops and explored the various alleyways. The town (at least the touristy area that we were in) had an incredible laid back and relaxed feel to it. I could see why many hippies and long term nomads seemed to have made it a stopping point on their travels. For us, it was a restorative half of a day. 

In the evening, we all got to dress up for dinner at a five star hotel a little ways outside the hub of the city. As we drove there, I realized just how little of city we'd actually seen and wished that we'd had at least one other day there. The hotel's restaurant was amazing and the cheapest five star I'll ever get to eat at.

All too soon the next day arrived and we said goodbye to our little slice of peace and headed to Pondicherry.