Ravages of a ravine

A visit to Gandikota is all about uncovering the vestiges of its past held within a majestic mosque, right next to a crumbling temple and an abandoned freshwater body, writes Ami Bhat

The stunning green and blue river cut through the brown ridges to create its own path. The smatter of green highlighted the browns and the light breeze whispered to me ‘Welcome to Gandikota — the Grand Canyon of India’. Perched on top of one of the rocks, in the company of the cool breeze, I took in the classic case of contrasts — the arid browns offset by the cool blue of the Penna River.

There was that silence of the land — bursting with the melody of the birds. And the strangely still rocks broke the gush of wind around me. Slowly patterns emerged at a distance. The line of brown had begun to resemble a brick wall of an old crumbling castle and the river seemed like a defensive moat. “You are not the only one who found this,” whispered the wind. “Centuries ago, Kapa Raja from the Chalukya kingdom built the first sand fort. Thus came the name of this land — Gandi for the Canyon and Kota for the Fort.”

Gandikota was never a major powerhouse but was strategic in terms of its location. The sand fort of 1120s changed hands from the Chalukyas to the Kakatiyas, the Tughlaqs, the Kamma Nayakas, the Qutb Shahi clan and finally the British — who abandoned it. “The story of this place lives in the vestiges of its fort” — continues the wind. “Turn around and follow the sun. Listen to the cues of the crumbling walls and you will discover Gandikota.”

The main mosque within Jama Masjid in Gandikota. PHOTOS BY AUTHOR

Grandiose

The setting sun peeked through the tall boulders, except they were not the canyon rocks. The carved pillars of the Ranganatha Swamy Temple became my first stop on the path suggested by the guiding wind.

The faded etching of the elephant and a hunter, the mythical Yellis, lone carvings of Krishna and the floral ceilings came together to showcase the beauty of the place.

As I continued to follow the sun, I found myself in front of a large granary that partially hid the minarets of a grand mosque. Built by the Tughlaq kings, the Jama Masjid with its intricate gateways and tall minarets acted as a beacon for any visitor to Gandikota.

Staring at the sunken fountain in front of the Mihrab, (a semicircular niche in the wall of a mosque that indicates the qibla, that is, the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca and hence the direction that Muslims should face when praying) it wasn’t hard to imagine the grandiose in its heydays. Tracing the floral carvings along the minarets made me want to climb up to the towers and take a view of the gorge behind it.

An elephant outlining the short staircase at the Ranganathaswamy temple

Majestic views

“Before you follow the setting sun, just stop by at the Kattula Koneru — opposite the mosque”— guided the wind. “The tank was used by the soldiers to clean the blood off their Kattula or swords.”

An intricate Charminar to breed the messenger birds, a windowless underground jail and scattered aqueducts and water tanks lined the remaining path to my final destination — the Madhavaraya Swamy Temple. A variety of carvings on the tall gates served as a teaser to the stunning craftsmanship of the Vijayanagara Era — more of which I encountered through the rest of the temple.

A last stop before the Sun bid goodbye took me to the Rayalacheruvu Lake. Thousands of winged beauties fluttered around and the wind rose to greet them — but not before whispering in my ears — “That my friend, is why this Grand Canyon of India is more than just a destination with majestic views.”