 "The Dharmarajeshwar Temple of Mandsaur")
A visit to Ujjain is always memorable. However, while it leaves a person feeling spiritually satiated, a history buff may come back feeling somewhat unfulfilled. If that seems contradictory in a town that has one iconic Jyotirlinga and two Shaktipeethas, apart from innumerable other shrines, it is perhaps because little in the temple town feels ‘ancient’. The oldest shrines in Ujjain are mediaeval in terms of their current structure, having been rebuilt by rulers such as the Marathas, following the depredations of earlier eras.
To get a feel of what was truly ancient in this region of Malwa, drive north of Ujjain. To a place where there are no crowds of pilgrims jostling for a darshan of the divine, no tourists adding to the surround sound and no traffic. After a mesh of newly built and repaired highways is left behind, an explorer here feels like he is falling off the map. Except that he isn’t!
Welcome to Dharmarajeshwar! Yes, it’s a mouthful of a name, but given the striking aura of the place it belongs to, it is a name that fits. It is certainly a far more appropriate name than the earlier one, Dhamnar. Located 155 kilometres north of Ujjain, the place is home to twin historical sites protected by the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI). While the site is ticketed, this ticket is meant only for one part of the complex, housing a set of ancient Buddhist cave shrines.
The other part comprises what is undoubtedly the most visually striking temple in the Malwa region, perhaps in the entire state of Madhya Pradesh. The Dharmarajeshwar Temple dates to the 8th century CE. That ticks the ‘ancient’ mark. Unlike cave shrines, which are built into hills, this is one of the rare temples created by cutting away rock, leaving a large mass in the middle. This mass was then carved out into the shape and form of a temple. The greatest examples of this style are the Kailasa Temple of Ellora and the monuments of Mammalapuram, which also date to the 7th–8th century period. Perhaps the style was so laborious that it faded out after that period, replaced by tall shikharas and ornate carving.
Impact Shorts
More ShortsThe Dharmarajeshwar is accessed via a long and narrow passage built into rock. It gently slopes downhill and then opens into a large courtyard where the temple stands. There are several subsidiary shrines also around. While Shiva is the principal deity in the shrine, there is also an icon depicting Harihara here, indicating that both Vishnu and Shiva were worshipped at some point. Visiting it during the monsoon season, a remarkable feature of the place is the absence of any water collected in this below-ground-level site. Either the ASI has done a fine job, or the temple has a drainage mechanism that keeps it clear. One tends to suspect the latter.
Mandsaur is a sizeable district with a storied past that goes beyond Dharmarajeshwar. Centuries ago, it was called ‘Dashapura’ and was an important part of the fabulously wealthy Gupta empire. While the Dharmarajeshwar Temple is indeed majestic, closer to Mandsaur’s district headquarters lies a historic nugget of even greater antiquity. This journey takes a visitor to the settlement of Khilchipura. To know more about the nugget hidden away here, dive into the research done by scholar Sandeep Balakrishnan, founder of The Dharma Dispatch. As per him, the famed Mandsaur Inscription, which gives us so many details of the Gupta period, also mentions the work done by a guild of silk weavers here.
Around 436-37 CE, this guild built a magnificent Sun Temple at what is now Khilchipura, just outside Mandsaur town. The inscription also records that the temple was inaugurated by Bandhuvarman, governor of the Malwa region under the Guptas. Later, in 473 CE, this temple was further restored to greater glory. The description given by Balakrishnan reads, “a temple which, having broad and lofty spires, and resembling a mountain, and white as the mass of the rays of the risen moon, shines, charming to the eye, having the similarity of the lovely crest-jewel…”
That description is adequate to bring even the most sceptical heritage explorer to Khilchipura. But those seeking a temple that resembles a mountain will be bitterly disappointed. Finding the Sun Temple is a challenging task. The moment a temple is mentioned, most residents refer to the Kubera shrine here, which is a new structure. Those seeking the Sun God’s presence instead of Kubera’s blessings need to be persistent in their enquiries and direct their questions at elderly people.
Walking through a series of narrow lanes, a visitor sees signs of old havelis dating to the 19th century. And then the site of the Sun Temple is pointed out. There is a garishly painted temple with a stone shed next to it. While the garish structure is not historic, the search for the Sun Temple ends at the stone shed. Close examination shows ancient temple columns embedded into the walls of the shed, flanking the doorway and all around. A blue board confirms that this is indeed the Sun Temple. The shock of seeing this fall of a once-glorious ancient shrine is almost unbearable. Inside the shrine, no icon of the Sun God is visible. Instead, a Shiva Linga is in worship.
Though it is known that worship of the Sun God gradually declined after the Gupta period, what is obscure is the reason behind the temple’s current state. While the presiding deity in a shrine may change when the belief of the worshippers itself changes, the destruction of the temple here could have been at the hands of invading forces.
Speaking of invaders, less than an hour from Khilchipura is Sondhni. In 528 CE, the Malwa ruler Yashodharman defeated a Huna army. This incident, also recorded on a Mandsaur inscription, is marked on the spot by a memorial pillar, complete with dwarpalas.
Further north lies the huge fort of Hinglajgarh, albeit in ruins. And nearby is the iconic Chaturbhujnath Nala, home to pre-historic rock art. Their story will be told some other day, but there is enough in Mandsaur to keep history buffs excited for a long time.
The author is a heritage explorer with a penchant for seeking obscure sites. A brand consultant by profession, he tweets @HiddenHeritage. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect Firstpost’s views.