If ever there was a temple which demonstrated the Hindu penchant for eclecticism, it is the star shaped triple-shrine temple at Warrangal with a thousand pillars. The royals who built it in 1163 CE were not about to take any chances. At the time, Hinduism was witnessing a struggle for dominance between the cults of Shiva, Vishnu and Surya - the Sun God. The Kakatiya rulers, in a spirit of acceptance that is characteristic, built equal shrines for all three deities even though their personal preference was for Shiva. This temple was part of the fame associated with the royal capital of Warrangal, and both the city and the temple have found mention in Marco Polo's account of his travels through India.

An unusual aspect about the temple came to light once I was actually at the spot. It is not in Warrangal City proper but in a place called Hanamkonda or alternatively Hanumakonda. This was a satellite township but increasing urbanization has caused it to be merged into the city. You really cannot make out that it is supposed to be another town, neither in distance nor atmosphere. The guidebooks are only now getting around to locating it exactly. Still, it is very confusing as the townships of Hanamkonda and Kazipeth have merged seamlessly with Warrangal and you never know where exactly you are. The actual temple is in a little lane off the side of a very modern road in Hanamkonda, bustling with shops and internet cafes. You can go past it many times until somebody assures you that this unprepossessing little lane will indeed lead to an archeological wonder. The official version of the value of the temple is interesting and reproduced in the accompanying picture.

What strikes one instantly is the immense dilapidation of the structure. It is as if a laughing Shiva danced his way through the temple like a tornado and left these signs of his visit. Every stone appears imbalanced and perched tentatively upon its fellow, a détente of transient value. Some of the mess is caused by repair work, where they are taking sections of the temple apart and carefully, literally, gluing them back together. But the fantastic chaos of the Dance Hall, the Ranga Mandapa, is all its own. There is not one straight line there, as if rubble has become sentient and is sloppily evolving into an organized life form. It is as though you have been dropped into the middle of a M.C. Escher sketch, with its impossible perspectives. Glimpsing the rest of the temple through that maze, or even seeing the sun shine through the shattered roof, is not quite what the builders wanted to provide you with but it is a strangely beautiful bonus. The temple was once vibrant, a center for the community and its cultural expression, and the energy is still palpable.

The decision to go with a thousand pillars was dictated by stylistic choices more than by necessity. I suspect part of the reason was the lack of quality sculptors to work on the bas-reliefs which are so ubiquitous a feature of the normal temple. The relief work is present but of such indifferent worth that it is really startling. A temple of this size is not normally served so shoddily in what is depicted on its pillars and walls. Since the panel sculptures were not going to be up to the mark, the architect compensated by providing this massive fretwork structure which was the temple entire. It was a creative solution and gives the temple its distinctive ambiance. Where the sculptors did get it right of course was in the free-standing elephants, royal symbols so beloved of the Kakatiyas, and in some of the interior panels. The magnificent six-foot high monolith Nandi, the bull of Shiva, makes up for all deficiencies however. It might just be the most beautiful Nandi ever carved in a land where the numbers of such representations run into the hundreds of thousands.

All Surya temples have a tank, to symbolize the Sun's emergence from the primordial waters. It is one of the most ancient of beliefs extending as far back as the Rig Veda 2000 BCE, "The yonder Sun who rises from the water like a spark of life at daybreak." To strengthen the symbolism, Vishnu, also a solar deity, has been described as Surya Narayana - "The Sun who sleeps upon the waters." A tank is therefore inevitable, apart from being needed for the temple's normal uses. The solar tank has been constructed in the traditional triple layer system, symbolizing the sun traversing the triple worlds of creation - the Underworld, Earth and the Heavens. This is a very spare and minimalist tank, not to be compared to the stunning beauty of the one at Modehra, but it has appeal for its uncompromising starkness.

The main temple is built upon a raised platform, about five feet in height and to which access is now provided by an iron staircase. With your shoes off, in the searing heat, that leads to some impromptu dance movements which should please Shiva Nataraja, the Lord of the Dance. The Surya shrine is empty, the image of the god long removed. However, the doorway provides a feature that is unusual but by no means unique in India. One of the carved pillars, the one to your right as you face the shrine, is deliberately somewhat hollow and you can strike it to sound the seven primary notes of music. Very skilled people can even get a tune out of it, but understandably such experiments are not encouraged. The level of sculptural fineness inside the main shrine is remarkable. Decorative motifs have been carved with such delicacy that you can actually pass a thread between the interstices of the design. On the roof, the inevitable Kirtimukha Yaksha, the Face of Glory, laughs down upon us. No matter how he looks, he is not a gargoyle, but a threshold guardian of consciousness. Of interest too is the unusual eight-pointed star yantra carved on the roof with the lotus chakra embedded within. This is one of the most powerful yantra configurations and it became necessary as the shrine had to house three powerful deities and needed the extra energy inherent in the pattern.

The Vishnu shrine is empty too, but over its doorway is carved a wonderful dancing Narasimha as well as the mythical creatures called 'makaras'. This is a terrific joke on the part of the sculptor, as well as a testament to the sense of humor and spiritual tolerance of the Kakatiyas, as the posture and composition is that of Shiva. What is emphatically not funny to witness is the conversion of what used to be a Vishnu shrine into a stall to sell souvenir booklets, flowers and coconuts! Such casual disregard for one's culture and heritage is perhaps one reason why such quality no longer prevails. It is appalling and the complete unselfconsciousness of those perpetrating this atrocity is the saddest part of the entire sorry scheme. There is a large Shiva lingam which is still in worship and gives the temple a real feeling of authenticity. In the centre of the shrine's roof is carved an impressive dancing Shiva with multiple arms, encircled by Ouroborous, the Serpent of Time, or Kala Sarpa. This concept is one of the true Archetypes as it has been independently accessed by cultures across different times, that had no connection with each other. The Kakatiyas seemed to favor it as the dancing Ganapati at the Paangal Shiva temple is similarly encircled. This Shiva figure is mistakenly pointed out as a Nataraja. It is actually Shiva as Nrityashila, the "God Habituated to Dance" or alternatively the "God who Habitually Dances!" Nietzsche's prescription for a transformed world was, "Dancing Gods must come!" He did not know this was happening in India for Millennia. That a warrior is also a dancer and musician is not incongruous in ancient societies. The Celts would not promote a warrior to the first rank unless he could also dance and recite poetry. The Celts even have a Shiva-like god, Cerrunos, so perhaps the aesthetic requirement is an archetype too.

The tourism corporation is planning a Sound and Light show to make this temple into a major attraction. At the moment it is floodlit at night and looks very impressive indeed. Once the repairs are completed the temple should look even better than it does. Easy accessibility and a lack of crowds make it well worth visiting. Close by is a famous Bhadrakali temple as well as an ancient fort, so the visit can accomplish quite a bit.

How to get there
By Air
Hyderabad is the nearest airport.

By Rail
Warrangal and Kazipeth railway stations are both close by though the former is the better served station. In any case the two places have practically merged so it makes no great difference.

By Road
From Warrangal, Hanamkonda or Kazipeth, you can hire a car or take an auto-rickshaw, which is the ubiquitous form of transport. Buses are frequent but crowded. If you are coming from Hyderabad then your route will be Hyderabad - Uppal - Bhongir - Aler - Kazipeth - Hanamkonda - Warrangal. As explained before, the last three townships have merged and are indistinguishable.

Where to stay
The lodges and hotels in all three townships are primarily functional. It is best to stay at the Andhra Pradesh Tourism Development Corporation's Punnami Hotel at Kazipeth, opposite the REC and near the rail station. This is close to Hanamkonda and Warrangal and is the most practical option to explore the area. The tourist season is the winter; at other times there should be no problem with accommodation.
Tel:0870 - 2432312