Kerala Day 2: Trying our Luck at Vadakkunathan Temple and Hauling Fishing Nets in Kochi

We were up fairly early (so we thought) and back at Guruvayur by 7.30am. As it turned out, our calculations were way off. If the previous evening resembled an evening city bazaar, Independence morning (Aug 15) at Guruvayur was close to a rock concert-like frenzy. The lines for Darshanam were even longer and we could barely hear our own thoughts. We figured it might take 3 hours to get through the crowds. I guess you can criticize us for not being religious purists, but we decided that since God's blessings are supposed to be omnipresent, we might seek a less painful way! On a lighter note, we mused that we should probably delay visiting the richer (aka more popular) temples to when we become senior citizens since this group seems to have their own accelerated queue to the sanctum sanctorum!

So we departed, a tad sadly. We arrived back at Thrissur (after another bout of Rallycross Racing) and soon found the Vadakkunathan Temple, which turned out to be much more peaceful than its more famous brethren in Guruvayur. The temple was originally built in the 9th century AD, although it underwent extensive renovations in the 16th and 17th century. It is rather thrilling to think of Vadakkunathan of Thrissur and Ekambareshwarnath of Kanchi being constructed at the same time as the likes of the beautiful Mesquita Mosque of Cordoba (in South Spain).

We entered the temple through an imposing portal into a spacious grassy courtyard, perfect for a peaceful walk to soak in the serene surroundings. On the left was the so-called Kuttambalam, a picturesque auditorium (occasionally used for music/dance performances) with multi-colored columns and multi-faceted geometric shapes built into the ceiling. It would certainly be a lovely experience to conduct a marriage here! In the center with a rounded copper dome was the Shiva temple and to the right was a Rama temple and a small Ganesh shrine. The gentle curves of Kerala temple architecture are beautifully subtle: you feel like you are really visiting the "home" of the lord. The temple doesn't try to overwhelm you with the grandeur of its Tamil Nadu cousins. We noticed similarities with South-East Asian architecture, notably the pagoda style, but also the supports to the roof which (for the front gate) looked just like the Chinese or Indonesian dragon. One wonders at potential linkages derived from (for instance) Emperor Ashoka's missionary travels into South-East Asia, and the Hindu dynastics of Vietnam and Cambodia.

One interesting feature of the temple rituals is that while the priests conduct the pooja, the visitors are not allowed near the sanctum. Hence, the priests would chase away unknowing worshippers (like ourselves at the start!) because a particular pooja had begun in the vicinity. So we had to do something of a rotation between the various shrines, but this did allow us to soak in the atmosphere while we sat on the patio surrounding the inner temple complex.

When visiting a temple (or any other place of worship like a mosque, church or synagogue), it is easy to lose yourself in religious thoughts, thus overlooking the artistic and architectural beauty of the edifice. We perhaps had more luxury to appreciate this duality being on holiday, compared to locals rushing in for Darshan between the demands of their life. It was interesting to see the concerted efforts at restoration and preservation by the Archeological Survey of India, both at Vadakunathan and elsewhere. Is it a losing battle or an evolving story? Only time will tell. As we circum-ambulated the outer courtyard, we could see that (like Guruvayur) the external walls of the inner courtyard are faced with shelving of dark wood on which stand thousands of unlit earthen lamps. Can you imagine the blaze of light if the walls were lit at night?!

As we emerged from the temple complex, a myriad view met our eyes. In the foreground, we caught a glimpse of the temple elephants being led to some unknown duties by their caretakers. Further in the distance resonated the metropolis of Thrissur, its nucleus rather reminiscent of the Zocala of Mexico City with a circular road of bustling traffic enclosing a central oasis housing Vadakkunathan at a slightly elevated level. Vijay, whose paternal grandfather (T.S. Vishwanathan) had owned a successful printing firm in Thrissur in the early 1900s, was very keen to try and locate their erstwhile office building (known as Vishwananthan Towers). Some officials attached to the temple kindly put him in touch with a knowing local, but alas it transpired that about 25 years ago, the building had given way to a supermarket. But at least the name was recognized!

Thrissur's Vadakkunathan Temple did much to assuage our regret at missing Lord Krishna at Guruvayoor, so it was a contented family that cooled off in our AC Indica as we trundled off to Kochi. We had nicely arranged our schedule to arrive there in time for a Sunset Boat Cruise around Fort Kochi. But the India Planning Curse struck again … as we rolled up at the tiny KTDC tourist office, only to be told that the cruise had been cancelled that day due to inadequate patronage. In our infinite wisdom, we had assumed that being a long weekend, there would be better attendance!

It is interesting visiting India as a naturalized Westerner, both in terms of one's own attitude and how one is treated. For us it was a strangely tumultous experience best catharisized so we can evolve into more effective travellers in the country. Whereas elsewhere around the globe, we have been tolerantly amused by local idiosyncracries, in India we found ourselves being intensely judgmental, while concurrently jealously proud of the culture and signs of prosperity and progress. That said, there is little doubt in our minds that being an NRI (non-resident Indian) in India is a bad bargain. One is treated with the disdain accorded to a local visitor, yet people try to fleece you because you are clearly a Westerner in every regard except physiology.

Enough heavy handed introspection! Back at Fort Kochi, we installed ourselves at the Tantraa Homestay. A fairly comfortable and conveniently-located house, but not a place we would recommend since, unbeknownst to us, the owner has emigrated to Denmark, leaving a single housekeeper in charge (and she turned out to be quite a character!)

We spent the rest of the evening wandering around the Fort Kochi harbour, which is a major tourist attraction, albeit cynically litter-ridden like so many other otherwise scenic locations in India. The non-existence of trash cans is quite a shocker when first observed. Really, the country would be better served if celebrities like Shah Rukh Khan invested in a Garbage Disposal company, rather than a cricket team in the glitter-overdosed Indian Premier League. We made a beeline for the famous Chinese Fishing Nets, those feats of mechanical engineering that have evolved into a tourist fiesta in their own right. We were duly invited onto the great devices to try our hand at tugging on ropes to lower and raise the nets. We knew there was nothing extemporaneous about the invitation, but it did not detract from our fun, and for the princely sum of Rs50, it classed as a must-do experience for us. We even caught a fish or two, one of which was a tiny sword fish which nipped Shobhita's finger as one of the fishermen got rather carried away and dangled its pointy snout from her hand for a photo moment!

From there, we walked along the waterfront watching the powerful swell of high-tide waves lash the coastline. Clearly a place to be careful of rip-tides, as Sarvesh realized, almost too late. A seemingly modest wave gathered steam and slammed into us as we stood in a small cove, upending both the children. A kindly man standing next to Sarvesh managed to pull him up, but both he and Shobhita were nicely saturated, thus putting paid to our stroll as we hastily headed back to the homestay to clean them up.