It’s a ‘natural temple’ in a cave. I enter the small hole that serves as the entrance to Patal Bhuvaneshwar in Uttarakhand, and realise that I have to practically slide down a mound of slippery stones for a good 90 feet.

COMMERCIAL BREAK
SCROLL TO CONTINUE READING

Though located at 1,350 metres above sea level, the temple feels like Jules Verne's version of the centre of the Earth, except that the cave is cold and musty, and has its share of bats and rats. I'm so focussed on looking out for rodents that it's a while before I realise this shrine has no idols.

Where are the gods? Is this even a temple?

Noticing my confusion, the priest-guide points to the cave’s natural formations. These resemble Hindu gods, he tells me. The Sheshnag (five-headed serpent) is the first I notice. The pandit tells me that the cave is placed on the spine of this Sheshnag. I get a little conscious – it's odd to think you’re walking on a snake.

Then I see the dreadlocks of Shiva. Geographically, these are stalactites. But can it merely be chance that the stalactites have formed in the shape of dreadlocks? More importantly, how have they remained the same for so many years?

Beneath the dreadlocks are tiny projections, considered to be 33 crore gods and goddesses of Hindu mythology. Among other 'natural' idols are a half-formed Ganesh (aadiganesha), the setting of a Chaupad play between Shiva and the Pandavas, Airavat (the elephant with a thousand feet), and a swan with its head turned due to a curse. But besides the gods, the cave also houses shapes that resemble demons and snakes.

Neelam Bhandari, 32, tells me that the cave is believed to have been created by Lord Shiva, on the request of Lord Vishnu, to remain out of reach of people, but was discovered by Raja Rituparna, a ruler of the Surya Dynasty during the Treta Yuga. Neelam is the 18th descendant of the Bhandaris, the only family of pandits allowed to offer prays here. The first pandit of Patal Bhuvaneshwar was his ancestor, who was brought from Kashi because pandits attempting to offer prayers here were being attacked by a lion.

He tells me about the cave's four entrances: The Paapdwar (path of sin) is believed to have been closed after Ravana’s death, and the Randwar (path of war) after the Mahabharata was fought; the Mokshadwar (way to nirvana) is the tongue of Kal Bhairav (a form of Shiva) and is almost impossible to walk through. The Dharmadwar — through slippery stones — is thus the only entrance used.

Neelam claims that it is a powerhouse of mystical energy. “Fortunately, not many people know about this place and so we get very few tourists who treat it like a picnic spot,” he says. “Bad roads and the lack of hotels may also be the reason why few people visit.”Only once I'm out of the cave, in the cold light of day, can I process rationally why I was so overcome by the 'natural' idols in the 'temple'.