Ellora - I

I thought I would write about Ellora as soon as I returned home. That way, I reasoned, a lot of the detail would be preserved. I realize now how silly that impulse was: more has been written about Ellora than I can hope to even read, let alone better. And the rapture in the detail can only be experienced, not read about. As for preserving my impressions in their entirety, I'm glad I'm writing late. This way, the ones that have really stuck - the ones that mean the most to me personally, - I can write about. So. Here are some of the things that return to me again and again:
- Nataraja, larger than life, dancing the world to ruin and destruction. Underneath his thumping feet, famine, destruction and panic. His arms outstretched, his head tilted back. I recognize that expression as my own. As everyone's. I imagine swirls of energy, of light, of flame, wreathing him. His aura, if he had one, would simmer. It makes me panic just looking at him like that. It makes me cry to see that one of his hands cups the cheek of his wife, seated at his feet. Don't be scared.

- On the opposite wall, Shiva, larger than life, meditating. Shiva as a man. A simple yogi. His expression will come back to me many caves later when I look at the Buddha's peaceful face. And I will recognize it as something not of this world.

- Two lovers engraved on the wall of Kailasa temple: He holds her face and bends down to kiss her. Again, I recognize that kiss. So do you. It is the splitlightsecond before the first I love you. It is the minute before a long parting or the instant when, after your return, you are held once again and feel that no matter how long your journey, the one step into waiting arms is what has brought you home. We all recognize that moment.

- Seven mothers hold their children. Their bodies appear animate with love. 'I remember how my mother used to embrace me. I would look up sometimes and see her weep'.

- Shiva and Parvati. Talking, embracing, cuddling, teaching-and-learning (though in that one she looks tense, nervous. As if he will reproach her for not understanding his point). Kissing. Making love. Standing there so real at the end of dark corridors, so large, so full of energy that I begin to forget that I am in a temple of stone. The first step to this forgetting is when I start to think how lifelike they 'look', and wonder - If stone can be so alive, how infinitely alive am I?! And everyone around me. And these trees! And the rock that makes this mountain, and this air! I take a deep breath and look at the end of this particular corridor again. There, in the dim shadows I see the curve of Parvatis' waist and Shiva's fingers resting lightly against it. I see their bent heads, leaning into each other. The curve of one of her knees. I feel that she feels the strength of the arms that encircle her shoulders. And that's it. I've forgotten that these creatures look alive. They are alive. I've forgotten that centuries separate the sculptor and me. I forget that myth and reality separates Shiva and me. I forget everything, and walk forward smiling, to meet my friend.
I will never, ever, forget that. And I will never, ever say 'looks alive' ever again.