Aarnaataan Malai : Travel back in time

For a glimpse of the lives led by the Jain monks of 1-2 AD, says SUBHA J RAO

PHOTOS: K. ANANTHAN

A SPOT FOR MEDITATION The Jain caves at Aarnaataan Malai

Six hundred steps to the top, lots of greenery and a temple at the top. The real action starts a hundred steps below the no-frills place of worship, which finds a place even in saint Arunagiri Nadhar's compositions.

Prickly vines criss-cross a beaten, meandering path that leads us to caves peopled by Jain monks in 1-2 AD in Aarnaataan Malai (mountain of six revenue villages) or Pugazhi Malai (a mountain with fame), as it is locally called.

As we trudge along the path, dotted with shrubs and jagged stones, a steady buzz draws our attention.

A mammoth beehive sways dangerously, sending out a colony of angry bees.

Mani, our guide, pauses to let the bees calm down, before he takes us through rocks and then some more.

A pair of vertical rocks stand sentinel as they have been doing for centuries. The shrubs abruptly disappear, allowing us a glimpse of a fast-developing city.

Silver smoke spirals out of a sugar factory.

Suddenly a pink-brown cave, which looks as if someone has carved it out of the rock face, zooms into view.

It is not very big, but nonetheless daunting because of the enormous rock face that doubles as its roof.

The speciality

So, what's special about this? I wonder. Palaeontologist A.R.K. Arun points to the raised slabs chiselled on the smooth rocks.

"Stone beds," he informs us.

The Jain monks, who lived here in seclusion worked on the naturally formed granite caves to create a dwelling.

According to lore, they would venture to the plains only to showcase the yogic skills they had learnt in the intervening period.

The beds are nothing more than an elevated headrest and a slightly depressed length of rock to rest on.

I try sitting on one of the slabs in an attempt to connect with a person who lived and died here centuries ago.

An inexplicable emotion grips me. Locals, who come here to meditate, insist the vibrations here are all-powerful.

You can also spot Tamil Brahmi inscriptions on the walls, some of which have bowed to the ravages of time and are not discernible.

Modern-day carvings by desperate lovers jarringly co-exist.

The Archaeological Survey of India protects the caves and until some decades ago, one could travel from one cave to the other. In the passageway, used to be the feted `Ramar Paadam', an impression said to be the feet of Lord Rama. Then, the passage was closed.

To enter the second cave, which used to be peopled by a group of monks, one has to walk around the hillock. I pass by the dwelling of another ascetic. He found a corner of the hill where the hot sun did not penetrate. You have to climb a couple of rocks and heave yourself up with the aid of a hardy tree nearby to reach his abode.

A rock lizard guarding its pearl-like eggs scampers past sensing human movement.

It is difficult not to succumb to the temptation of sitting on the stone bed. The feldspar-embedded stone is ice-cold to touch, maybe why the monk chose it in the first place.

Watch your step

I then walk towards the second cave, passing by a moss-covered pond. It is said that the monks went there to bathe. This is windy terrain and walking on the rocks is a delicate exercise. It is best to go barefoot so that you feel your next step.

The local administration had put in place an iron fence on the way to the second cave, to help people get a better grip, but miscreants have left just a portion behind.

This stretch is slippery and the short walk an arduous exercise.

The breathtaking sight from the cave makes up for all the trouble.

You can see the nearby villages, a sea of green and enjoy the cool breeze.

Inside, the air is laced with the odour of ammonia, courtesy a bat colony.

A meditation plank has been chiselled in the centre, possibly for the senior-most monk, with space reserved around it for the others. The ASI board at the entrance lists certain names carved on the rocks. Like three generations of Chera kings, Sangam-era names like pittan, kotran, keeran and oori and the names of gold and textile merchants of that era.

How to go there

Aarnaataan Malai is part of Velayudhampalayam and is 18 km from Karur and 30 km from Namakkal.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/08/19/stories/2006081900120200.htm

Thirupparankundram : Hallowed hollows

Jain Caves: a retreat from the world, says PRINCE FREDERICK

ON THE road to Madurai, a hill that is shaped like an amoeba comes into view. Its bald formlessness had always made me think of it as just another blob of earth. Only much later, when I visit this hill, which is located in Thirupparankundram near Madurai, do I realise that it is a place where archaeology, religion and tourism are melded in an interesting package.

Unlike other RLTs, where I invariably set out on my own, this time I travel as a part of the Madurai Taj Garden Retreat tour of places around the town. I am not the only journalist on this trip, but it throws up an RLT where I least expected to find one.

The hill is known by the hollow formations in it, three of them. Jain Caves offered Jain monks a retreat from the world. Legend has it that some of them would live in these hollows without food and water for months, or until they had crossed over into the other world. Even today, these rocks seem to exude a sense of quiet.

Interesting inscriptions

The three caves are part of many more that exist in this district — all situated close to Madurai town. Brahmi inscriptions suggest that they go back to the 2nd or 1st Century B.C. The first lies in the foothills, a neatly scooped out hollow that bears inscriptions on the rock face. Some of them refer to the customs prevalent during the times of the Pandya kings.

A flight of stone steps leads up to the next cave. As you enter this one, you find the hollow leading on to an open terrain. Here, what appears to be a tear in the rock has a body of water, green with algae and teeming with tilapia. The water runs many metres deep and the `tank' never goes dry. People of all religions come here to feed the fish and say their prayers.

According to legend, in order to be freed from a curse, two demons had to abduct 1,000 people who were lax in their religious duties and shut them up in prison. They managed 999 in no time, but could not get hold of the last. Frustrated, they took a short cut. They bound the Tamil poet Nakirar hand and foot and shut him up. The poet sought divine intervention and was released. Lord Muruga drove a wedge into the rock and out sprang holy water in which Nakirar bathed and washed off the defilement caused by the demons' touch. This is said to be the same water body that exists today.

Parallel to this cave, but on another projection of the hill, lies another, which houses a mosque. This place of worship was built 300 years ago in memory of Sikander Badshah, a Muslim holy man. As we depart and the hill appears on our rear view mirror, I tell myself that it symbolises religious pluralism.

Courtesy:http://www.hindu.com/mp/2005/03/12/stories/2005031202120100.htm