Hampi is easily one of the most visited places in Karnataka. It was once the thriving capital of the Vijayanagara Empire from the 14th to 16th centuries, drawing traders and pilgrims with its wealth, temples, and markets.
Today,a few centuries later, on the banks of the river Tungabhadra, Hampi lies in ruins. Magnificent ruins they advertise it as in the travel world. What in the world is that?
The rubble of passing time is never magnificent, at its best, it is a grim reminder of the effervescence of human endeavour.
Hampi : A vibrant past and then the downfall
At its peak under king Krishnadevaraya, Hampi spanned 26 square kilometers and was home to 500,000 people. It was a kingdom of bustling bazaars filled with spices, diamonds, and silk. Armies of elephants and horses guarded it. Temples and palaces graced the land. A rich cultural society flourished. All this a few centuries ago.
But then, the city fell in 1565 after the Battle of Talikota. The Talikota battle was a fierce one, where the combined forces of the Deccan Sultanates (Ahmednagar, Bijapur, Golkonda, and Bidar) defeated the Vijayanagara Empire, ending its political dominance and leaving dramatic ruins behind.
Even today, many of the temples are still in great shape. The Dravidian style of architecture is striking. Towering, pyramid-shaped gopurams (gateway towers), intricately carved pillared halls (mandapas), and the rich sculptural detail are still a treat to watch and study.
There are plenty more structures around. The septagonal Queens bath , the Elephant stables with distinct a mix of Islamic architecture and the Vithala Temple complex housing the iconic Chariot that appears on the Indian currency notes. All of these great creations are symbols of a once-flourishing kingdom.
The Royal Enclosure : A thought provoking view
It is however, what is called the Royal Enclosure that got stuck in my thoughts. It is a vast area that once served as the king’s home, court, and center for ceremonies. Spread over about 59,000 square meters, it included over 45 buildings like palaces, halls, tanks, and temples.
Very little in this particular expanse, which was the Royal enclosure, is intact now.
The Durbar Hall held royal meetings. Palaces and watch towers are arranged in a pattern. Underground chambers, stepped wells, and many more buildings are spread around.
All that remains today, is a scattered enclosure in a saddening state. Rubble-like, but still distinct enough to leave the onlooker to imagine the grandeur of the past.
The most prominent structure in the Royal Enclosure is a grand raised stage. The Mahanavami Dibba, or House of Victory, is the tallest platform here, standing three tiers high at 12 meters. Kings watched festivals and ran the court from the top. They surveyed the glory from a stage decorated with carvings of elephants, dancers, and flowers.
Nothing but the platform remains standing. Lifeless and lonely.
It is when one climbs the platform that one gets the real perspective. Standing where mighty kings used to stand surveying their land and its splendor is a mixed feeling today. The scattered stones, crumbling pillars, and the dull brown of the soil are a sad sight.
No bugles are blaring out victories. There are neither decked-up elephants nor horses. The noble men are long gone, and so are the armies. Festivals are a thing of the past. Silence , centuries old has taken over.
The once-busy streets, the aqueducts, and the stepped well remain as a footnote in history.
All I can feel is the sun beating down. All I can see laid out in front of me is a graveyard of a long gone splendor. The warm wind blowing in from over the Tungabhadra waters silently glides and on its way ruffles up a few dried leaves and some wisps of ancient dust.
Hampi is more than just the ruins of a kingdom. It is a reminder.
A reminder that mankind is self-destructive by default. Greed and ambition always end poorly.
Time, as it passes on, is an ever- eager accomplice in this destruction. Its unabated march swipes away everything that humans build in all of their arrogance.
Not very soon, nothing much or should I say – nothing remains.
My name is Ozymandias , King of Kings
As I step off the platform, I am reminded of the last lines from Ozymandias, that powerful poem by P B Shelley. where he refers to a broken statue in the desert and imagines the lines etched by the sculptor on the pedestal even as he builds a statue of the emperor.
“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
No thing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Nothing more to say I suppose.
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Sudhir Bhattathiripad
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Very well described, Bhatta,
Fabulous….a vicarious journey to Hampi! How i wish the conquerors hadn’t destroyed these monuments or time would have spared them and their splendor for all to admire!!