Picturesque Nepal/Chapter 7

by Percy Brown

CHAPTER VII

THE TEMPLE OF CHANGU-NARAIN

The Situation of the Temple—Pilgrims to the Shrine—The Art and Architecture of the Temple—The Pilgrims' Ritual.

A march of eight miles east of Katmandu brings the traveller to a ford across the Manchra River. Above this rises a steep hill, a spur of the Mahadeo Pokri, which, scarred by a winding path of stone steps, leads to the Vishnu temple of Changu-Narain. Our camp has been pitched on the hillside just below this edifice, and late in the afternoon we find ourselves absorbing the magnificent view of the valley lying at our feet. The cultivated fields, divided into squares of various crops, look like a great patchwork coverlet in russet greens, with purple and brown townlets nestling in the folds. From this outwork of the higher hills almost the whole extent of the valley is visible—a great oval basin, land—locked by fine wooded mountains, above which at various points are seen the soaring peaks of the snowy range—

"Hills peep o'er hills, and Alps on Alps arise."

As we gaze, the light is fading and the mountains gradually assume a deeper, clearer purple against a primrose and orange sky. Like a silver ribbon the Manchra winds its serpentine course through the low-lying rice fields, losing itself in the amethyst twilight. Then the day dissolves itself into night, and the waxing moon throws its glamour over all. Softly and gently with a feeling of exquisite peace the gathering light transforms the scene into a misty, tender nocturne of mauve and silver. A few lights twinkle out in the villages and towns, but the effect is of an indefinite, mysterious lake, and these but the reflections of the stars. From somewhere in the distance comes the faint sound of a temple bell, and instinctively the mind switches like a flash over the 6000 miles which separate

Elephant outside the southern entrance to the temple of Changu-Narain.—Page 98.

the Hindu temple on these Himalayan heights, and that summons to the evening service floating over the meadows in England—a touch of nature which makes the whole world kin.

"Ave Maria, blessed be the hour,
 The time, the clime, the spot where I so oft
 Have felt that moment in its fullest power
 Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft,
 While swung the deep bell in the distant tower,
 Or the faint dying day hymn stole aloft,
 And not a breath crept through the rosy air,
 And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer."

Changu-Narain is one of four small hamlets, each containing a shrine sacred to the deity Narain. This divinity is a representative of Vishnu, the Preserver, who is one of the three personal manifestations of the Spiritual Being, Brahma. These shrines are situated in different parts of the valley, and to visit all four in one day is a religious feat often performed, although it necessitates a circuit from Katmandu of 44 miles. The particular shrine at Changu is the most popular, and also the most wealthy. Kirkpatrick stated in 1793 that "the interior of this temple is only accessible by means of an offering of a tolah of gold to the god, although the individual thus propitiating his priests is at liberty to introduce to the interior, along with himself, as many other persons as he pleases," an easygoing regulation which might be interpreted according to the extent of the visitor's circle of acquaintances. Part of the pilgrimage consists in climbing the flight of endless steps, but the devotees, accustomed to mountaineering, toil up the steep and broken stairway easily and cheerily. Unrestricted by the regulations of the "purdah," and unoppressed by any gloomy religious observances, the women, decked with flowers and bearing trays of golden blossoms which play such an important part in their sacred ritual, gaily straggle along. By the roadside gardens are maintained, bright with cosmos, marigolds, dahlias, lilies, and chrysanthemums, from which the pilgrim may gather at will his offerings to the gods. As a little family party mounts the winding flight, chatting and laughing, suddenly a hush will fall on them—a suppressed giggle from one of the young girls— as she narrowly escapes treading on a special step around which every devout person carefully walks, for on it is painted the holy emblem of The Eye. The coolie carrying his load up the steep stairway suddenly "jinks" off on to the grass in order that his feet may not pollute the sacred sign. But in Nepal, unrecognized and apparently insignificant shrines and sanctified places encumber the ground—the streets are literally "paved with good intentions," for almost every other slab or stone is daubed with vermilion, and held sacred. In no country are there so many "sermons in stones" as in Nepal, and the uninitiated sightseer, with eyes aloft on carved balconies and perforated windows, is in constant danger of profaning these holy emblems with his uncompromising boots. But the inhabitants of the valley with few exceptions are liberal-minded and reasonable over matters of this kind, and when in doubt, it is not much trouble to slip off one's footgear—an act which will often permit one to step into the innermost recesses of the holiest of shrines.

Arrived at the outer door of the temple, we pass through a sombre archway, an excellent foil to the fantasy of colour and material, which, throbbing in the sunlight, leaps to the eye beyond. At first sight the scene appears to be a miscellany of art and architecture, tossed into picturesque confusion, but overcoming this illusion, it is possible to analyse it and understand the general arrangement. The ordinary plan of these buildings is a square courtyard, around which runs a dharmasala or resting-place for the devotees. The actual shrine is a pagoda in the centre of the court, around which subsidiary altars, statues, and temples have been added by devout donors. This combination is in all cases picturesque in the extreme, and Changu-Narain is without doubt the richest of all the Nepalese pagodas in carving, colour, and embossed metal. The entrance to the large central pagoda is one mass of hammered brass, beaten up into angels and devils, reptiles and fishes, winged creatures and floral forms. In front, on pedestals, brazen beasts guard the portals, the baleful effect of one ferocious-looking grifhn being humorously intensified by a

Colour painting of a door between two rectangular pillars, with an orange-yellow ornate lintel. The wall in which the door is set is cream with red and green decoration. Three steps lead down from the doorway to the ground, on either side of which stands a small statue of an elephant on a plinth. In the foreground a small figure in green crouches and prays towards the door.

Doorway to shrine of the Changu-Narain temple. (p. 98)

garland of marigolds carelessly thrown around its neck. On each flank of this side of the building is a stone pillar with a lotus capital; the one, around the base of which is a coiled serpent, supports a great brass chakra—the disc of Vishnu—while the other, rising from the back of a monster tortoise, is crowned by a huge metal conch-shell (sankra). Above is the usual overhanging pagoda-eave, the deep shadow of which is cleverly broken by carved wooden brackets, composed of sprawling demons and deities with many arms. The pavement in front is encumbered with bells suspended from stone supports, altars with embossed tympanums, brass umbrellas, and dragons promiscuously crouching around, while a very precious metal effigy of the founder, facing the main doorway, is carefully protected by an ironwork screen forged like coarse chainmail. On the pillar surmounted by the chakra is a long inscription cleanly cut in Sanskrit, which is considered to be the oldest and most interesting in Nepal. It records a donation to the god of Changu-Narain made by the queen Rajyavati on the occasion of a great victory, and bears a date corresponding to 496 A.D. The remaining sides of the temple are replete with artistic symbolism, the south aspect being specially striking. The central feature of this side is a triple doorway of wood, richly carved, and encrusted with plaques of beaten brass. The woodwork has been brilliantly painted— probably crudely so in the first instance, with raw reds and blues, greens and yellows—but the kindly hand of the Master Artist—Nature—has blended and softened the effect into a mellow harmonious whole. Two large and imposing stone elephants pose on pedestals in front of this rich colour scheme, their prominent parts picked out with vermilion, while above, a hanging brass lamp fringed with metal pendants sways and tinkles in the breeze. Around the courtyard fragments of sculptured deities lie in confusion, each receiving its share of devotion, being anointed with oil, adorned with flowers, or perfumed with incense, according to the impulse of the worshipper. Groups of pilgrims wander through with offerings, each individual bearing a brass tray on which are a bunch of marigolds, a lotah of milk, some spices, a few grains of rice, etc. These are put before the shrine, a short prayer murmured, and the party passes on. On one side a few disciples sit together and chant their mantras in a monotonous key, while in a small chapel—surrounded by an absorbed congregation of brightly clothed devotees—a priest in saffron garments and decked with garlands reads extracts from some holy book, and expounds these in a melodious voice. A background to this picture is the dharmasala, or pilgrims' quarters, around the courtyard, ornamented with a wooden arcade, richly carved and profusely decorated oriel windows. A quaint eave-board projects over this elevation, and the impression of this part is one of a mediæval medley—an irregular square of Old World half-timber houses, peaked gables, overhanging upper stories, red-tiled roofs, and all the picturesque features of a past age.

We paid our farewell visit to this wonderful temple by moonlight. Much of it was in deep shadow, relieved only by the flickering light of cherags (small earthenware lamps), but this gave it an added mystery. The brasswork faintly reflected the different illuminations, while out of the gloom glazed metallic eyes leered at us from the ever-watchful dragons guarding the portals.