An undulating rock. Like a wave of all things molten from Earth’s womb that rose composedly and decided to ebb quickly in strange peace. As if tectonic timescales decided to freeze into a patient and expansive stillness, breaking away from waves that know only to roar. This surreal geological art — this rocky wave — exists, and is called the Hemakuta Hill.

When Lakshmeesha Tolpadi, a Kannada philosopher, scholar, writer and thinker of our times, spoke at the acceptance of his Sahitya Akademi Award last December, Hampe might have crossed our minds.

“Into every nook and corner in India are folded many folklore and references to the Mahabharata or the Ramayana,” he said. “This is how the two epics have endured for millennia, for they are kept alive by people who feel a sense of being rooted to a land of ancient human stories celebrating deeply spiritual values.”

Hampe, or the anglicised Hampi, keeps several mythological stories alive to this day. Etched in stone. Literally.

The very name ‘Hampe’ finds its origin in the story of Goddess Pampa, an avatar of Parvati performing penance to marry Shiva. Eventually, Shiva, delighted by her dedication, accepts her. In celebration, the cosmos (according to a myth birthed in this part of Karnataka) rains gold on a particular hill in Hampe, giving the Hemakuta Hill its name: hema is Sanskrit and Kannada for gold.

To the north of the hill is one of the most celebrated wonders in this part of Hampe, the Virupaksha Temple, whose gopura (tower) looms dauntingly, hauntingly, like the word ‘honour’ had acquired form.

On the hill are structures that are by themselves a journey, articulated one stone at a time, letter after letter forming the alphabet of a language. Some known to belong to an even earlier period, all of them are built in Dravidian architectural style, dated between the ninth and fourteenth centuries. More than thirty-five temples are believed to have been on the Hemakuta Hill, most of which are dedicated to lords Shiva, Vishnu and Krishna (an avatar of Vishnu).

On the zenith of the Hemakuta Hill is the unassuming Moola Virupaksha Temple reflective of the formative stage of the Vijayanagara architecture style. Moola means origin, and is befitting for a shrine that is older than the Virupaksha Temple. It is as if the temple itself is meditating, the natural pond in front of it relentlessly reflecting it. Behind the Moola Virupaksha Temple is the small shrine dedicated to the mighty Hanuman, easily recognisable by the frangipani tree with its blank branches — a muse for every seeker and chronicler of beauty. From here, you can behold the vast sweep of the city now in ruins, one which is glorious even in reminiscence.

Further down on the slope are the fabled 2.4-metre-high Sasivekalu Ganesha and Kadalekalu Ganesha idols housed in somewhat open, pillared shrines. The former is carved out of an in-situ boulder, a monolith. These idols may remind you of the humbling perspective of the Italian sculpture maestro Michelangelo, that he saw a block of stone that hid a figure already and all he had to do was to chip away at the excess to access the form and reveal it for others. The two Ganeshas, although exposed to elements for centuries, have let time flow through them gracefully. Named after mustard and chickpea seeds respectively, and being so massive, they make you grin for the poetic latitudes the ancients took in naming deities.

The twin, two-storeyed gateway nearby, with all its pillars, plays hide-and-seek with the sun as the life-giving star crawls across the sky. Slanting rays of sunburst add an ethereal side to the earthly. From this archway, you get a breathtaking aerial view of the stunning Krishna Temple complex with its kalyani to the south. Beyond its presence, you can also recognise the equally popular Lakshmi Narasimha and the Badavalinga temples.

From most of the pillars of these temples and other structures emerge carvings that appear to be somewhat crude, only in comparison to the intricacy one can find in, for instance, a deity carved in the Hoysala style. But in Hampe, it is this very unapologetically pagan glory that will seep down your being and stay under your skin. Parts of the hill’s perimetre, on the other hand, retain what’s believed to be the remains of fortification, predating the Vijayanagara Empire.

Besides these things of beauty shaped by human hands, the Hemakuta Hill offers you enchanting sunrise and sunset views from a vantage point. You see the changing light once silhouetting the neighbouring temples and once revealing them in their raw glory.

From it lurks a sweeping view of this ancient city which, even in ruins, looks so glorious that you can only imagine with some pain what the days of glory might have looked like.

And thus Hemakuta Hill shines a light on Hampe, now a radiant muse, now a world of delight hemmed by a luminous ache; an ache throbbing with the flow of time but still, golden.

Sourabha Rao

Sourabha Rao is a professional writer, poet, translator, former freelance columnist and voiceover artist, with literary proficiency in English and Kannada. She deeply cares about producing stories primarily on nature and wildlife, social issues, history and art. She strives to write truthfully and creatively in an earnest attempt to create content that educates and entertains, has impact, and mobilises positive social change. She has written op-eds and photo-stories for leading Kannada and English newspapers, and has collaborated with filmmakers in wildlife conservation and water conservation. Sourabha lives in Bengaluru, while a big chunk of her heart has stayed back in Mysuru, her forever-muse.

Where Stones Sing: The Hemakuta Hill in Hampe

Sourabha Rao