Sriflections: October 2008

ಅಂಬಾ ವಿಲಾಸದ ಅಂಗಳದಲ್ಲಿ

It was love at first sight. And my wife didn’t mind one bit. In fact, she felt the same. Well….before you plan on a fanciful flight of imagination, I am referring to the throne….The Golden Throne of the Wodeyars. It took quite a while for the feeling to sink in that I was feasting my eyes to one of the most magnificent thrones in the world. To top it all, I was doing so from inside Ambavilasa (Diwan-e-Khas, Private Durbar Hall) – the sanctum sanctorum of the Mysore Palace built during the Regency of Maharani Kempananjammanni of Vani Vilasa Sannidhana – where mighty kings of Mysore, His Royal Highness (HRH) Sri Nalvadi Krishna Raja Wodeyar and HRH Sri Jayachamaraja Wodeyar had made important decisions regarding the State and its People in consultations with stalwart thinkers like Sir. Mokshagundam Vishveshwaraiah and Sir. Mirza Ismail, Dewans of Mysore. This was the very place where many social, educational, industrial and technological issues and the plans for Krishnaraja Sagar Dam, Brindavan Gardens, Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL), Government Engineering College (now UVCE), University of Mysore, Bangalore Agricultural University, State Bank of Mysore, Mysore Soap Factory and Bhadravati Steel factory were discussed and approved. It was also very likely the room where HRH Sri Jayachamaraja Wodeyar had to make the hard decision of abdicating the throne to accommodate a democratic notion that had swept the nation post-independence. However, the rosewood doorway on the north-eastern end with ivory motifs depicting Krishna on a Peepal leaf; the silver central door on the east portraying the 10 incarnations of Vishnu on the outside and pictures of Krishna’s formative years on the inside; Brahma, Vishnu and Maheshwara’s pictures above the lintel, with corresponding images of Saraswati, Mahishasuramardini and Lakshmi on the exterior; the 24 colorful pillars that lined the central third of the hall; the stained glass ceiling above them; the majestic gold throne that adorned an illustrious lineage of kings from the time of Pandavas; the magnificent chandeliers that hung down like a bunch of grapes made out of diamond; the richly crafted mahogany roof panels on either side of the glass ceiling; or the Gandabherunda glass etchings staring from atop each of the four windows gave away no hint to their participation in these momentous events that shaped up Mysore’s History.

Today, they were witnesses to a new world which, but for their grandeur, neither knew nor cared about their historical significance, to a new generation of people with new ideologies and new lifestyles, and to the service of a new Maharaja. A party of 100-odd people was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the scion of the erstwhile Mysore Royalty, one of the few people in the country who is empowered to use the title “Maharaja” (unlike a la Ganguly), Sri Srikantadatta Narasimharaja Wodeyar Bahadur. The occasion was the Private Durbar that the King holds during Dasara celebrations. As the people waited for the King, all eyes were fixed on the Golden Throne that sat centrally with resplendence in the western end of the hall. A kid, sitting closeby, excitedly asked his mother if the throne was really made out of gold. She responded in the affirmative and added that only the King could afford such luxuries and indeed we were fortunate to be sitting in such close proximity. This conversation transformed me to an era gone by to agrahaaras (social settlements) outside the palace, where mothers used to feed their children by telling stories about the luxurious lives and the valorous deeds of Kings and Princes. It was so surreal to experience such a déjà vu when one was not even part of it, but for hearsay, the first time around :) This vindicates, if any such thing were required, the inscription on the rim of the umbrella above the main seat that describes HRH Sri Mummudi Krishna Raja Wodeyar as “The Lord of Karnataka Ratna Simhasana” and that the golden umbrella of the golden throne, which he had inherited from his illustrious ancestors, evoked the awe of the whole world. This ancestry, in terms of the possession of the throne, supposedly goes back to the time of Pandavas of Hastinapura. The throne is later thought to have been brought down South to Andhra Pradesh, where it lay underground undisturbed. It was dug up by Sage Vidyaranya who was instrumental in founding the Vijayanagara Empire in 14th Century and it was on this throne that the Vijayanagara Kings brought forth the Golden Age of South India. After the decline of the Vijayanagara dynasty, the throne came in to the possession of Wodeyars in early 17th Century. And it has been so till today to tell us its glorious past.

If that bit of historical piece does not invoke wonder, maybe this will. The Golden Throne is about 6 feet high and the main seat comes to about 4 feet. The exuberant decorations include those made out of gold, silver, pearls and other precious stones that I can’t name. It has intricate carvings all over it, the most conspicuous of them being the Mysore Royal Emblem of Gandabherunda (a mythical bird with two heads) flanked by two Sharabhas (a lion’s body and head with a trunk of an elephant, considered to combine the strength and valor of both). The four sides of the throne are accentuated by gold-etched creepers, with elephants on the east, horses on the south, soldiers on the west and chariots on the north. Carvings of the Hindu Trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Maheshwara give semblance to the fact that the King is considered the protector of his subjects. There are six steps that lead to this seat and each has two female figures that form the banister. The golden umbrella, atop the main seat, is highly decorated and has a tortoise seat as its base. The seat, the steps and the umbrella can be enjoined, as I heard later, with an interlocking system.

While I was taking in all these details, I could sense the room being filled with a lot of excitement and expectation. Dressed up in brilliantly colored shawls and religious marks adorning their foreheads, the priests who had been walking up and down the hall with superior grins, hurried down to stand by their plush seats in front of the throne. The naadaswaram (a traditional Indian wind instrument used in auspicious occasions) was adding to the growing crescendo and when the soldiers lined up the path along the north-eastern door, all talking ceased. I had decided to stay close to the eastern door from the beginning so that it would be a vantage point both for the entry and exit of Maharaja as well as to the throne that was right across on the western end of the hall. I had been cautioned by one of the soldiers from using any kind of camera/mobile phone lest it should be confiscated. My Nikon D80 was already downstairs locked up with some security guy who sincerely thought it was an armored tanker. I didn’t want this Nokia N73 to vanish before I said “hey”. That didn’t stop me from surreptitiously making videos by pointing it aimlessly in the not-so-brilliantly lit room.

The announcement of King’s arrival got everyone up on their feet. Amidst the chanting of Vedic mantras, a rendition of "Vaatapi Ganapatim Bhaje" on the naadaswaram and proclamation of his various titles, Maharaja Sri Srikantadatta Narasimharaja Wodeyar Bahadur walked in with a cohort of soldiers and court officials in royal garb. A couple of soldiers were smartly twirling two large pieces of silk, in a symbolic act of cleaning the pristine and luxurious carpet in front of the Maharaja. The King walked down the entire length of the hall, went around the throne, bowed respectfully and with some difficulty, climbed up the six steps. All this time, I was making video with the mobile phone from behind a soldier. Now, with some goading from him, I threw all caution to wind and moved towards the eastern door and stood across the throne in full sight of Maharaja! That’s how we were for the next 10 mins – a Maharaja at one end of the hall sitting comfortably on the golden throne, and a Chakravarthy (Emperor) on his feet at the other end with a mobile phone that had lousy video and zoom options. The irony of life, eh? Anyways….I really missed my still and video cameras, and the knowledge that I may never ever get such an opportunity did not help matters. The King stood up on the throne and saluted the audience while the naadaswaram played a fast tune. After the King had settled down, the soldiers who had lined up in front on either side showed their respects by lifting their swords and tributing him with various impressive titles. The court officials and the priests came in front of the king as quartets and showered praises upon him. The King posed for a few official photographs, stood up again, and saluted. Then he walked down towards the eastern door, turned left and made way to another much awaited ritual.

The soldier, who had quickly become my Palatial God Father, insisted that I follow the royal brigade for the next event. Without a shred of doubt or concern, I followed the troupe which consisted of two soldiers, the Maharaja and 4 other court officials….and me! When I looked back, I saw Ramya earnestly trying to convince the soldier that her husband was part of the royal entourage and that she was only following his footsteps, as any ideal wife would ;) Right! So thought the soldier, and the large rosewood door closed behind us. I knew I would see Ramya….eventually…if I was not thrown to the lions or elephants for this royal sacrilege. So, I followed them promptly with the mobile phone video capturing the backsides of this royal staff. See, that didn’t sound right…so I decided to go around a few of these officials to get a better shot of the Maharaja.

Rule number 42 of Mysore Palace Etiquette clearly states – “Never try to break into, and overtake, a royal brigade in order to get within 2 feet of Maharaja.” Not dozing off during High School History classes would have helped.

One of the officials turned around and asked me what the hell I was doing there and I vaguely remember saying that I had come along with the Town Planning Bigwig. I was politely asked to march back and one of them stood behind to ensure that I did. We were in the off-the-limits area on the first floor, an open quadrangle from which the royal women-folk would observe the proceedings beneath in the Kalyana Mantapa (Marriage Hall). I doubled back and ran around the corridor to be on the other side. I had no clue what to expect. About 20 people had gathered here to see the next and the last act of this royal play.

There was a small, but elegant, east-facing throne that had a footon in front. There were two silver vessels, one with scented water and the other with flowers. Facing the throne, there were about a dozen ladies who wore exuberant and expensive looking sarees (traditional Indian dress - a long piece of clothing that is draped around the entire length of a woman’s torso and legs). This was quite a different setting from Ambavilasa. It did not have any of the extravagant display of wealth. The lighting was somber and the mood not so upbeat. After a couple of minutes, the Maharaja walked in from the far southern corridor and sat on the throne. Maharani (Queen) Pramoda Devi broke away from her royal aides and sat in front of the footon. She washed the King’s feet with the water (paadapooja) and offered flowers to him. She applied tilak (a red paste signifying prosperity) on his forehead. The Maharaja got up and walked back the same way and the Queen joined her group. This act represented a tradition where in the Maharaja was worshipped as the Protector and the Queen was also wishing him luck to perform his duties to serve his subjects.

I moved south to the back entrance of Ambavilasa. The crowd had already dispersed. There were a few who had gathered around the Golden Throne. Ramya was frantically trying to reach me on my mobile and was relieved to see that I was in one piece. We set out to have a closer look at the main attraction. A few policemen were in the process of cleaning it up and ensuring that no valuables were misplaced or lost. Some of the pearls from the canopy that adorned the main seat had fallen off and were being carefully gathered. An old woman was very gratified to receive some of the flowers that were used to decorate the throne. Another guy was agitated that his camera was impounded by the police, who eventually returned it with a warning. I managed to make a quick shot of the throne with the help of an empathetic policeman. After a couple more shots in Ambavilasa, we moved down and out into the Palace grounds to cherish a very memorable hour.

While you need to behold the Ambavilasa proceedings with your own eyes to appreciate the glory, you will have to do with this story and a link to the video (will shortly follow...I'm trying to convert the .mp4 video to a more suitable format), which in no miniscule way can do justice to the visual splendor. What must have been once an event that was the highlight of Maharaja’s Dasara itinerary has now become a mere symbolic façade. Although I was wistful for an audience during the reign of earlier Maharajas, where the visitors had to be dressed up in the Dasara costume, could meet Maharaja and be honored with a garland, I was pretty glad to be part of this traditional event that has stood the test of time!

I'll leave you with some not-so-impressive pictures from my Nokia...