Andhra Pradesh is presently dominated by the Balaji Vishnu temple which is the most popular temple in the country. It also has a multitude of ancient temples dedicated to Narasimha, the man-lion avatar of Vishnu. It comes as a great surprise to learn that Andhra Pradesh was historically a stronghold of Shiva worship. Even the state language, Telugu, is thought to derive from the word "Triling" meaning the three symbols of Lord Shiva. The region between the ancient Shiva-temple towns of Kalahasti, Srisailam and Draksharam was actually called Trilinga. Once these facts are in place it becomes easy to account for the enormous number of ancient Shiva temples in the state. Of all of them, the most spectacular is undoubtedly the Ramappa temple at Palampet. It has been described as, "The brightest star in the galaxy of medieval temples in the Deccan," and the statement is plain fact.

Palampet is a village that has gone to sleep since its glory days of the 13th and 14th century and has still not woken up. It is 70 kms from the ancient capital city of Warrangal and is in the middle of nowhere. You do not understand what 'remote interior' means unless you come to a place like this. The place was historically significant for being the site of a huge irrigation venture, wherein an artificial lake was constructed in 1213 CE, which could irrigate 9000 acres of agricultural land. In medieval terms that meant the dynasty was on velvet. The Kakatiya general overseeing the construction, Rudra Recherla, simultaneously built a temple near the lake shore as well as the great Ramappa temple near it.

The lake shore temple at Palampet
This is a small private shrine which seems more like a leisure resort than a genuine temple. The carvings within it are slightly more sensual than is the norm and it was constructed to provide a vantage point to oversee the surrounding land as well as to catch the breeze. One entrance overlooks the lake. The other dominates the open countryside, and the third entrance to the shrine looks out into the thick woods nearby. It is an unusual use of perspective that you do not normally find possible because such a combination of natural features is always fortuitous. The forest is reclaiming the temple and the Archeological department does not seem too keen to contest it for rights of occupation. Ancient temple builders used to deliberately plant quick growing, seed scattering trees around shrines. If the local populace did not keep up the worship and cleanliness of the shrine, the forest would quickly invade and devour it, thus protecting the sacred space from further profanity.

This is the very essence of ruin. Stone and root are equally tumbled about, the caryatid royal elephants doing a brave job of attempting to hold up this wreck of royal display. The platform on which the temple stands is sagging under the weight of years, but the carvings are still jaunty and saucy. The faithful Nandi still keeps a morose vigil, but the Shiva lingam has been removed and replaced by an inferior one of later times. A Vishnu stands there, a little marvel of art, anticipating the Hoysala style which was soon to burst forth in neighboring Karnataka. A Saptamatrika panel deserves mention, chaperoned as they always are between the Yakshas, Kubera and Ganesha. The 'Matrikas' are female energy forms of male gods, with all their external attributes, but specifically assigned the guardianship of young people. The lake, elevation and breeze combine to make it a superficially attractive spot, cool in spite of the scorching heat, but it does have the feel of a real temple. The energy within is slothful and tired, no longer burdened with having to live up to royal expectations, but not having any other purpose to replace it. It is a sad testament to the frailty of human ambition.

"My name is Ozymanidas, king of kings
Look upon my works, ye mighty
And despair!"

Indeed.

The Ramappa temple at Palampet
The Ramappa temple, unlike the lake shore temple, was built with far more seriousness. This was where the royal family would come on high festival days, 70 kms from the capital city of Warrangal, an enormous distance in 1234 CE, when the temple was completed. What they found waiting for them had to be worth the effort of journeying forth. They were not to be disappointed. The temple is approached thorough a royal garden, now just a lawn with tree lined path. As befits a temple built for kings, this is not a yogi Shiva in residence but a King of the Himalayas, at ease in his palace. There are two subsidiary shrines on either side of the main temple and they share the fate of the lake shore temple in being completely ruined. The Nandi Mandapa is still in good condition and so is the enormous Nandi within, facing the shrine of Shiva.

The Ramappa temple is actually the Ramalingeshwara temple, popularly contracted to "Ramappa" to denote Shiva's importance as the chosen personal god of the avatar of Vishnu, Rama. The Shiva lingam itself is a rare form of Shiva as Rudreshwara, a very combative and fierce form of the god, well suited to warriors' psyche and being, oh so coincidentally, the namesake of the general Rudra Recherla who built it! The temple signifies many facets of Shiva; royal residence, the Himalaya Mountains, and his inhabiting a sacred space beyond the mortal realm. For, the temple is built upon the classical pattern of being first raised above the mundane world, upon a platform that separates its sacred functions from the taint of the everyday. This 'sacred mountain' mindset was characteristic of temple builders in all cultures. It represented a powerful symbolic representation of a perfect building, an intersection in midair of the spheres of heaven and earth. The platform lifts it above the normal, transcends the profane, declaring with uncompromising firmness it is a place for Un-common activity dedicated to a god. The Eternal, not the everyday, is what the temple seeks to represent.