Ellora - II

After the lushness of Kailasa, a walk around the hillside to the Buddhist and Jain caves feels either like a cool breeze or a splash of icewater. Depending on how much you melted at Shiva's feet. It felt like a splash of cold water to me. And I was completely swept away. There is something even more moving about the Buddhist caves. Their austerity only highlights the perfection of technique, the expressions on the Buddha's face leap out at you all the more because he is the only one in the room. There is no throng of people here, living, dying. No ceaseless press of life. There is only being, no becoming. And yet, there is nothing static about these caves. Some of the images that have stayed with me:

Inside a small, small chamber, the Buddha is seated in a teaching position. His eyes are shut and he is smiling that halfsmile of his that makes all of your smiles suddenly seem fake by comparison. (New personal challenge for 2007: Smile one cosmic smile.) You walk the length of the empty cave up to this tiny chamber at the far end. All the while, you imagine that the Buddha is alone in there. You peep inside, mesmerised by that smile. You don't notice that on either side of this tiny chamber, there are two perfect creatures looking down at you from either side. Door gaurds. They actually keep you out. The sight of them is so unexpected, they look so real, so vibrant, so from-somewhere-else, you feel a whole lot of healthy respect and a great deal of awe, and you are prevented from taking that step into the sanctum. (Though the marks on the inside walls prove that I might be a fool for thinking this way - people have obviously gone right in.)

Inside the Vishwakarma, a hundred impressions first crowd for space and then melt away as you drown in the mighty face in front of you. Two things that struck me immediately: Between the pillars and the walls of the dimly lit cave, you can only see darkness receeding into the distance. You imagine it stretching all the way to the end of the cave, where, ultimately, it will curve around the back of the seated Buddha and you will get a glimmer of light from the only window in the room. At this point, you will be sharing a piece of the sky with him. From the entrance of the cave, those passages look like doorways to other worlds.
Secondly - Inside this cave, the acoustics magnify the slightest sound. There is no other ornamentation, hardly any light. In the looming darkness, the Buddha seats enormously, lit only by one shaft of pale sunshine. The pillars on either side are almost oppressive. The ceiling looks like a ribcage. You are inside a spiritbody. And there is nothing else. You cannot think a single coherent thought, you feel the impulse to whisper. But far from being oppressive, the overall impression is one of liberation. There is nothing else.
After I have taken my photos, I walk outside to put on my shoes and change my mind. The cave is totally empty now. I run inside, kneel at his feet and press my forehead to the ground. I look up and smile, and run out again before anyone else has a chance to come in.