Bali Sojourn Part II (Pura Besakih)

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Bali Sojourn- Part II (Pura Besakih)

This holy ‘mother temple’ of Bali is situated about one kilometer up the slope of the Mount Agung. The mountain rises for another two kilometers behind Pura Besakih, which is the largest temple in Bali. The height of the mountain is 9888 feet, (highest in Bali) and it is a volcano, which erupted in 1963 killing some 1600 people. Surprisingly, the temple did not suffer any damage.

In the Hindu cosmology, the primordial ‘Sea of Milk’ was churned by Gods and Demons to get the ‘Nectar of deathlessness’. (Amrit) They used the mount “Meru” as the churner and the serpent ‘Vasuki’ as the rope of the churner. So, practically every Hindu temple represents the mount Meru. ( Read my blog on Angkor Thom ) In Bali too, this idea is repeated, with the mountain Agung representing ‘Meru’ and the temple representing the serpent ‘Vasuki’ or Naga Besukian.

At Pura Besakih, which is spread over seven terraces, you should go right up to the end terrace (up and up all the time) and then you come to, what I call the ‘dragon staircase’. As you stand there, you DO get a feeling that you are looking at the two heads of a serpent that has encircled the whole mountain (Vasuki, being a Divine serpent, has a second head in the place of a tail. See our photos of Angkor Thom. You will notice that both the Dewas and Asuras are holding heads of Vasuki.) The view from up there is absolutely fabulous. The open courtyards of the terraces below, dedicated to different shrines make nice pattern. You turn your gaze up the mountain, and you will find that its top is in clouds. The view was mesmerizing. I was drunk with the beauty all around, and had MY head in the clouds (Avi says, it always is, to which my rejoinder is “What for you are then?” His feet are always on the ground.)

That view alone was worth all the trouble and all the unpleasantness that we had to suffer, and we were lucky. It did not rain.

http://www.uluwatu.org/pura-besakih.shtml

The link above will give you the tricks and techniques of the unscrupulous scamsters at Pura Besakih. It is a shame that foreigners are taken disadvantage of in this manner. We also had exactly the same sort of experience. At the foot of the hill, ‘moto-drivers’ hassled us and tried to get our custom, but their prices were way too high, so we put our foot down and said that we did not want their services.

Now, in retrospect, I think we should not have put our foot down, because that one step led to countless steps up the mountain. It is quite a tiring walk. I was exhausted by the time we reached the ‘split’ gates of Pura Besakih.

At the temple also, they tried to foist themselves on us under the guise of being a guide, however, we are used to these tricks in India and firmly told everybody that we did not want a guide and even if they accompanied us everywhere and prattled about the ‘history’ and ‘mythology’, they will not get any money out of us. Then they left us alone and that is why we could see the temple at our leisure right up to the last terrace and the ‘dragon staircase’, which is most noteworthy. A guide would have hustled us and ‘finished’ us in two terraces and would have left as soon as he got his fee. It is also not certain that they know the real history or mythology of the temple or of Hinduism. (Nor do we know, but I am sure we know more than they do. Please read my blog about Angkor Thom in Cambodia)

So, I will advice all the foreign tourists to carry a guide book ostentatiously, and tell the local guides that you are already familiar with the history and mythology. Any donations that you WANT to give can be put in a box before every shrine.

Those gates are wonderfully beautiful. Their proportion, their carving, their positioning, everything is perfect. They looked like the upswing (not horizontally spread out, but vertically up) of the Garuda’s wings. (Garuda is mythological bird and the ‘vehicle’ of Vishnu)

Have you ever seen a bird with vertically raised wings?

I have and wished that it were dead. Those *&^#$% pigeons!

This year, we put a grille on the balcony window because we could not keep the window open and unattended even for 10 minutes. The pigeons that are always sitting on the parapet would just sneak in the house, dirty the floor, upturn vases, break valuable, delicate china and not make any noise while they were at it, whereas, outside they are always ‘cooing’.

They were such a nuisance that we decided to put a grille with narrow gaps between the bars. Our man-of-all-jobs assured us that the gaps were too narrow for the pigeons to come in.

For almost one month, ‘all was quiet on the western front’. (Our balcony faces west) We used to keep all the windows as open as possible and used to taunt, jeer and challenge the pigeons to come in.

Then their breeding season started and they discovered a hidden niche in the balcony, ideal for making a nest.

Then there started a war between the pigeons and me, with balcony as the disputed territory.

The epic saga that I am now going to unfold now before you, will make you forget Iliad and Mahabharat.

First there was a council of war held on the parapet by them. I could observe the wise Nestor and wily Odysseus among them counseling while the stalwarts Achilles, Greater Ajax and Lesser Ajax surveyed the balcony. A sortie or two was made.

The next day, one of them had perfected the technique of raising his wings vertically and walking through the bars, squeezing his body. With a cry of

Once more unto the breach, once more, dear friends,
Or close the wall up with our Pigeons dead!

he was through the bars, closely followed by two of his friends.

In my arteries too runs the blood (Yes, why should it run through veins only?) of my warlike ancestors. With a cry of “Har Har Mahadev” I rushed into the fray with a stick and repulsed the attack. (Yes, I was the WHOLE Trojan army. Avi was, as usual conferencing somewhere else.)

The Trojans fortified the balcony with a net, the Greeks found the places where the net was not securely tied and learned a new technique to enter. They also enlisted the help of some mice.

The Trojans plugged the holes in their security with wire mesh. Now the Greeks are building a Trojan horse. (Why should it be called a Trojan horse if the Greeks built it?)

I just wonder who made the pigeons (I suppose doves are just pigeons with lots of makeup) a symbol of peace?

The war is not over yet. So long as Hector is alive, he (i.e. me) will defend the citadel to his (her) last breath.

So, I will say that the split gates of Pura Besakih look like the raised wings of the mythical bird Garuda, not like those of these silly pigeons.

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