The first semester here at DNC ended just last Friday with the end of semester examinations. We now have a two-week break before the new semester begins. It is customary for the philosophers (philosophy scholastics) to go for a sight-seeing trip to either the Ajantha/Ellora caves or Goa (first and second-years respectively) during this period; theologians (theology scholastics) are free to join either group. All scholastics will have a 'Triduum' (three-day silent retreat) next week before we renew our vows in a special mass. (Left: the first-year philosophers of DNC - I'm second from right, top row)
The first-year philosophers didn't hang around very long after the end of exams; the Ajantha/Ellora trip began at midnight on Friday itself! First, there was a six-hour bus ride to Aurangabad (named after Aurangzeb, the last great Mughal emperor – more about him in Part 2), where we had been provided accommodation in the assembly hall of the high school run by the Holy Cross sisters. There was just enough time to wash up before we had Mass (pictured right) in the hall. The young sacristan had forgotten to bring a Bible along for the Mass readings, so my pocket copy of fellow-British Province Jesuit Fr. Nick King's translation had to come to the rescue. Although we didn't have hymn-books, I was very impressed by how well the scholastics sang many well-known English hymns (“As the deer pants”, “Take our bread” and so on) from memory; many of them have only learned English within the last 7-8 years since joining the Jesuits!
Breakfast, then another three-hour ride to our first major stop – the cave temples of Ajantha. The caves were hewn out of solid rock-face in a beautiful valley, where the river makes a U bend, nearly two-thousand years ago. In fact, the oldest cave temples here date back to the 2nd century BC. You cannot help but be impressed at the manner in which rock-cutters and sculptors must've worked decades in those times, hundreds of feet above the ground. But that isn't all, the craftsmanship and artistry of Ajantha can be admired as masterpieces in their own right. Perhaps it is the combination of cool breeze and lack of sunlight, but many of the cave paintings still retain their colour and lustre. And the brush work is so fine I needed to borrow a pair of binoculars at times to see the detail!
Like the vast majority of tourists there I was busy admiring the artwork when a Buddhist family from Bhutan (probably) came in and bowed to the massive figures of the Buddha. I was suddenly embarrassed to realise that I was standing on holy ground. This might be a cultural trip for me; for some it's a pilgrimage. How many times have I bemoaned the apparent lack of reverence of tourists in cathedrals in England? Who has the greater moral claim over historical sites of religious significance – governments representing the cultural interests of the general population, or adherents of those faiths? Personally, I have come to believe the true beauty or impact of a religious site can only be experienced when it is used in religious worship; it is then that dead hallways and sculptures come alive as spiritual spaces and icons. Wandering the caves of Ajantha, I tried to compose the scene as it must've looked like 15 centuries ago when Buddhism was at its peak in India; as thousands of pilgrims flocked to worship and pray even as construction work proceeded on new temples; as Buddhist monks spent their days meditating in Spartan cells in the caves; as the cave walls glittered with the brilliance of the latest techniques in mural painting and sculpture.
After lunch, we returned to Aurangabad, stopping on the way to enjoy two more sites – Bibi ka Maqbara (literally, “The Tomb of the Wife”; a scaled-down replica of the Taj Mahal built as a tomb for a local nobleman's wife) and the Panchakki (an aqueduct / water-mill system that is a fine feat of medieval engineering). Then supper, before retiring to bed after a very long and tiring, though illuminating, day.
Like the vast majority of tourists there I was busy admiring the artwork when a Buddhist family from Bhutan (probably) came in and bowed to the massive figures of the Buddha. I was suddenly embarrassed to realise that I was standing on holy ground. This might be a cultural trip for me; for some it's a pilgrimage. How many times have I bemoaned the apparent lack of reverence of tourists in cathedrals in England? Who has the greater moral claim over historical sites of religious significance – governments representing the cultural interests of the general population, or adherents of those faiths? Personally, I have come to believe the true beauty or impact of a religious site can only be experienced when it is used in religious worship; it is then that dead hallways and sculptures come alive as spiritual spaces and icons. Wandering the caves of Ajantha, I tried to compose the scene as it must've looked like 15 centuries ago when Buddhism was at its peak in India; as thousands of pilgrims flocked to worship and pray even as construction work proceeded on new temples; as Buddhist monks spent their days meditating in Spartan cells in the caves; as the cave walls glittered with the brilliance of the latest techniques in mural painting and sculpture.
After lunch, we returned to Aurangabad, stopping on the way to enjoy two more sites – Bibi ka Maqbara (literally, “The Tomb of the Wife”; a scaled-down replica of the Taj Mahal built as a tomb for a local nobleman's wife) and the Panchakki (an aqueduct / water-mill system that is a fine feat of medieval engineering). Then supper, before retiring to bed after a very long and tiring, though illuminating, day.
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