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Bahubali, Yakshini and Woodlands,Aranya_kfd
November 6th 2018
SRAVANABELGOLA IS A MYSTIQUE MOUNTAIN RENOWNED FOR ITS
GLORY IN ATONEMENT OF BODY, MIND AND SOUL.
Wild hinterlands of Sravanabelgola sprawling amid rivers, streams, wetlands and thick forests were the last refuge for attainment of strength, courage and fortitude. Darker woodlands of Gomatapuram were not only the sanctuary of wild animals, shelter of blood hounding wild spirits but also the conservation reserves for human trials of spirituality, mysticism, and holiness. It was a melting pot of research for realization of height of physical endurance, for wide stretch honors that pertain by custom and the ordinance of times, for obtaining miraculously outstanding distinction of attainment of spiritual sacrosanctity the world has yet to scientifically experiment, for achievement of pinnacle of passionate desire to be one with God by holding on to the tenacity of perseverance and by voluntarily consecrating the true self on the alter of practical experimentation of mortal demise..A K Singh
O Chandragupta Maurya ! The world is full of sins, evils, falsehood and attachments. You headed your crown on the Greek satrapies of Taxila, Bectria and Arachosia. Bhadrabahu a Jain Monk from Kannada Nadu further enlightened the the emperor of India further saying, With blood, sword, fire and thousands of war elephants, your mighty highness vanquished the army of Alexander the Great of Macedonia on the Indus valley. You dealt a crushing defeat on the colossal domain of Seleucus which spread far and wide from Mesopotamia, Arabia to Patliputra. Legions of your stronghold marched, invaded and subjugated the whole India with the help of Chanakya on the frontiers of Magadha Empire, lamented Bhadrabahu the last Shruta Kevali Jain monk meditating on Chandragiri hills 290 BC at Sravanabelgola stating further,- The blood and courage of hundreds of thousands of your military force couldn't renew the veins of vigor, vitality, dynamism of your empire. Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth couldnâ€™t find solace in this world bursting with drudgeries of grief, sadness and melancholy in life.
Bhadrabhau further cries, O Mighty emperor of India the Chandragupta ! Sravanabelgola is a splendid hill of amazingly charming beauty where light of the moon sparks as yakshini with glimmers of hope stares on the darker caverns of transcendental affluences of life. Vindhyagiri and Chandragiri hills here are rich treasures of divine mysticism where hunters and food gatherers sprinkle the seeds of their labor on the condescending highlands marked with sadhu, saint and faqirs who keep on plunging for years together in the pangs of meditation and in the cramps of penance. Gommateshwara is a delightful amazing rise of earth where pontiffs hailing from all over India keep on absorbed in constantly sizzling twinges of penitence for months together.
Bhadrabahu Jain monk further made an appeal to Chandragupta Maurya asking, Come Chandragupta Come, churning in penance, meditation and self reparation shall find the comfort of your soul. With inner introspection of your body find the deeper meaning of the divine truth of life. With constant contemplation upon your mind, let your bodies follow my liege. Let your peripatetic and rootlesly wandering soul hunt the true nectar of your life. Raise your highness to bring your followers and ancestors to the mighty sum of spirituality. Donâ€™t forget Chandragupta ! Acquisition of true realization of Yoga, Sanyama, Pragne and Pragnapti the four anuyoga of Vedas and fourteen purvas shall only behold the feeling of strong desire for renunciation of your family, body and pleasure. Look, the genuine essence of life is in truthful hot pursuit of the established principles of Mahavir Jain. The constant performance of gyana, dhyana, tapas and sanyama shall hold you to the nobler riches than your blood, sword and fire to win your right. Instead of arming your mighty empire to invade the Selucid kingdom, better you lay down your proportions to march your body, mind and soul to the gracious sovereign which is the ultimate truth the world has yet to explore. Blood stained hills of of Sravanabelgola, keep on roaring with thunders of hundreds of Jain monks drenched day and night oozing their sweat and blood ruminating enigma and riddles of life and therefore setting endeavor in continual motion.
In response to these magisterial doctrine of philosophy of Bhadrabahu, Chandragupata started crying, Oh majestic Jain Monk Bhadrabahu ! A horrific dream of twelve scenes has pillaged my mind. A dreadfully gruesome nightmare has gripped every fiber of my conscience and has haunted me down to the spine. An outrageously shocking delusion has shattered the symphony of my composition which demands your immediate explanation. I saw the sun setting. A branch of Kalpa Vriksha broke off and fell to the ground. A divine aircraft descending from the sky, disembarking and returning back. The disk of the moon splits up. Belligerent Black elephants have been aggressively fighting together. Fireflies are shining in the mist of twilight. Lakes, ponds and big water bodies are drying up. Smoke has filled all the air. An ape is sitting on a throne. A dog is eating pudding out of a golden bowl. Young bulls laboring. Kshatriya boys riding on donkeys. Monkeys scaring away the swans. Calves jumping over the sea. Foxes pursuing old oxen. A twelve headed serpent approaching aghast. Oh Shruta Kevlin Jain Muni Bhadrabahu ! I am no tyrant, but a Kshatriya King. Our history shall otherwise with full mouth speak of our sins, or else our grave. Let us be worried and our nation be on alarm. Onto whose grace our passion is as substance as our wretches fettered in our prison of mind ? What does this nightmare mean please tell us the fate of this nation !
Then Bhadrabahu, in a soothing utterance answered to the burst of queries so raised by the mighty King, saying, Yes my King ! The sun is setting with all the knowledge getting darkened. With the fall of branches of Kalpa Vriksha Jaina religion shall be in a state of decline, as successors are not getting baptized in diksha or knowledge. Bharat this country shall no more behold the gifts of heavens if all her children do not speak their free mind in an allegiance of their bosoms not crowned with faith. Religions shall sell its tryst to spoils and deceit in battlefields and war. A few sparks of light of the knowledge shall kindle the spirit of few humans but with feeble deception. Land of Aryans shall become rendezvous of falsehood and destitution. The evil shall prevail and the virtues shall be trampled. The vile and wicked shall sway the power and supremacy. Those in command and authority shall not be content with their share. They shall demand exorbitant portions thus oppressing the people. Youth shall be lost into the religious zeal and frenzy but they will renounce these when old. Those at the helm of affairs shall decline to the base. Low will torment the noble and rage them to the ground. Those in power shall oppress the poor by levying custom duties and unlawful taxes. With each passing year, cycle of the droughts, famines and deprivations shall ransack the people.
On audition of this prophecy of Jain Muni Bhadrabahu, repenting the sorry state of affairs of this holy land, saddened and greaved Chandragupata further exclaimed Oh Shruta-kevali omniscient Muni, we seem to have sold our kingdom to decay, her princes and peers to serfdom, and her subjects to oppression and contempt. My whole realm of administration has sought to ruin and ravage the estates. Poor miserable wretches have drowned to an unfathomable depth. Now I shall stoop to conquer the world, here in Vindhya mountain of Sravanabelgola committing to the service of God with all my twelve thousands disciples deploying them to aid of the people. Chandragupta then wowed to be constantly in a state of meditation known as Kayotsarga. Then went into indefinite observation of penance on top of the Chandragiri hill at Sravanabelgola in 290 BC. To his honor, sworn into practice of scruples in food, on routine fasting in tandem, working grossly, constant in spirit, Chandragupta slipped into the state of "Sallekhana" around in 294 BC, a jaina practice of transgressing into a distinctive world of mysticism. A unique phase of soul working to obtain omniscience shedding off karmic particles through twelve stages leading to self driven demise.
Adikavi Pampa a court poet of Rashtrakoota empire 939 CE a virtuous-lonemaster-of-the-famed Kannada, of fine repute and standing, untiringly paints the chronicle of Bahubali and brother Bharata, quoting from his verses in "Pampa Bharata", yelling, Oh the King Arikesari ! Basins of Krishna and Cauvery burst with sweetness of affluence. Soils of Cauvery and Hemavathi rivers seem grave and learned. Sanctuary of wild animals tells the tale of legions of affirmation. Reserves of wild hinterlands sympathize here the long drawn chronicle of avowal and assertions. Thousands of wandering souls precipitate their wrath and annoyance under the cool shade of lofty green trees amidst the hills of Chandragiri and Vindhyagiri. Our purposes find meaning here in the tranquil air of Podanpura woodlands. We bequeath our golden earnest of death in the wild tranquil sylvan of origin of Hemavati streams. People find their heavenly refuge as a last resort in this solemn and holy rendezvous from oppression and contempt. God here graiously secures the relief and succor to the rueful and penitent souls. Oh Arikesari ! The king of Rashtrakooka Empire ! Since God has so graciously brought to light the patience to endure. Do you know Bahubali stained in blood and soaked in sweat set foot on Kailasha mountain of Himalaya, to deliver our might into the hands of God. Bahubali putting himself straight in expedition made into an ascetic, austere and celibate. He turned all the tides, in pitched battle of meditation and penance, terrible in constant resolution. Bahubali immersed in deep thought and rumination shall find his vanities, pride and arrogance consumed and spent. The world of fragilities in him shall transcend in an armor of mysticism, labor and sanctity. Indifferent in his advance for the world ant hills mushroomed from his feet. Creepers and climbers sprouted from his legs. Shrubs and bushes claimed the folds around his body. Composed in reconciliation, bridled in constant fasting, amid the hauls of beauty and the beasts, poised in stability, patient in stillness Bahubali's countenance enforced homage to wit and super consciousness in a cheerful semblance to attainment of nirvana.
A Jinasena a Digambar Acharya 868 CE in the court of Rashtrakoota King Amoghvarsha, at Melkheda proclaimed, O Nrupatunga Amoghavarsha ! Srvanabelgola is a province working grossly in a natural cause, a wonderland of esteem and admiration. Wrought upon birth and death of many belligerent yogis and sadhus, has got voice in hell for excelling in the meaning of life. Ornate in lively streams, falls and rivers. Busied in its majesty, singing lakes bristling with colorful birds and flamboyant butterflies. Many fresh streams meet in two big ponds. So many thousands of action of karma, once afoot, end in purpose, be all well done. So many fresh fruits, droops and berries ripen to nourish heavens of sages and their sovereigns. Shrubs, bushes and climbers grow spiraling and sneaking in all seasons. Fig, Fiucs and Ferruginias rise from all splits and fissures of rocks and boulders with so full of glory. Musical tones of barbets, cuckoos and flycatchers add more feathers to the wings of meditating sadhu and sages. Serpent eagles, hawks and falcons reign solely in the breast and crownes of all trees. Colorful blooms of creepers and woody climbers dazzle all the eyes of natives. Large ample fowls, roosters and chicks lay their eggs, weave their nests, brood their blood and divide their happiness among sages, saints, courtesans and yakshis on the twin hills of chandragiri and vindhyagiri at Sravanabelagola.
Jinasena a court poet of Rashtrakoota further roars telling Amoghavarsha, Hailing from Ayodhya 826 BC, born to Rishabhanatha and Sunanda much revered and strong armed Bahubali and Bharata along with their 98 brothers kept the youth of India on tenterhooks. Vast territories of Indian subcontinent thrived the armors, chakra and munitions of these hundred sons reigning in the breast of every man. Oh King Amogha ! Find the quote in Adipurana ! Bahubalis fields of domination Podanpura were left unconquered by Bharata. Swords and Chakra didn't still meet the ferocity of sounds. Strong armed Bahubali and able-bodied Bharata all of a sudden for their reasons turned into a quarrel. Sworn to fight fierce battle against each other they both entered the pitch field. Ministers lamented at the moment, O lords of divine world ! Fathers of this soil with labor, hard work and toil have adorned this piece of earth with truth, non-violence and great virtues. How the very bottom of your souls can extract the spark of evil ? Why you annoy the world with so brutal a battle? Then two mighty souls Bahubali and Bharata with their earthly mundane bodies fought the "war of attrition". Dristi-Yuddha eye staring fight, Jal-Yuddha water skirmishing and MallaYuddha a wrestling combat. From glistering semblance of piety, from blistering wisdom of ignominy Bharata stooped to his brother Bahubali. Cunning wrought upon him so outlandishly, Bharata yielded to his brother Bahubaliâ€™s indomitable will and insurmountable might.
Bahubali with flurry of panegyrics and burst of lamentations appealed to his brother, Oh Bharata, You must not dare, for shame, to talk of guilt. How apt is our love to accord harmony and goodwill in our country. This piece of earth is crowned with souls unremittingly struggling to strive non-injury, peace and non-violence in quest of truth of life holding each of their breadth in search of true knowledge. Podanpur has sworn to abjure all that is cruel, ingrateful, savage and inhuman your eyes can scarcely see these virtues. Go, take and bear the keys of all my sovereign nation. You fought with me a war in vanity. Now truth of it stands off as gross. No foul deed, wicked and profane can shake the conscience of my heart. This nation constant in spirit is soaked in blood of labor. Every moment of it drenched in introspection is garnished and decked in modest complement. An account of our actions in purged judgment shall trust none of us. So finely incorrigible and inveterate you seem. Your fall in victory has left a deep wound on the page of history. For this revolt of you, for fault in our stars, I weep for you. Free from all passions, joy and vehemence of rage. Go forth. You are set therefore free to reign the whole Indian subcontinent with proportions of your liking and taste.
Jinasena further yelped telling, Bahubali relentlessly worked in meditation, for a year in league with his body mind and soul stand up, upright, erect and motionless. His vertical posture delving into a state of Kayotsarga, desecrating his body into rigors of rigidities, burning all the desires, passions and hungers, boiling all the lust and urges of life. Thus comes the full power upon him, the phantom of his soul haunting to beat flesh and blood embracing the body. A ghoulish appearance of Padmavathi a Yakshini haunts the scene. Lodging her protest in grievances groans, yelling, O Bahubali ! Behold Sir King ! All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement dwell here. How far shall you suffer to abuse your soul ? How far shall the affliction of your mind hanker upon the madness for me ? Why do you burn the genuine desire for so beautiful a life ? What for this omission of pleasure ? Why do you spare longing for me ? Let me embrace your soul, whose honor can't be measured and restrained. I fear a folly you held or me. I embrace your body with great deal of passion and thirst. I pluck your highness frown upon you. See my body with contours, so rounded and pleasant. Look at my rumps packed with magnificently exciting substance and astonishing curves. Cast a glance upon the breast of mine mudded in the oozy rotund, filled with corpulent sensation. Gape at my piercingly appealing eyes, constantly digging at your instinct for generous awakening. At this hot and sizzling encounter I do so much you admire. Let your logic devour the reason, let your rational overwhelm your purpose for a moment. Life is so beautiful, why you relinquish these moments of joy ?
Adrift in concentration I was attuned to the truth. Now jostled from your senses, wreaked up from the purpose, Oh Yakshini ! You are playing me false. Thus spoke Bahubali, Oh, lady of splendid attraction, a woman of majestic excellence ! Life is a great expedition in pursuit of knowledge, in search of ultimate truth. Vision of this land earned so far shall be lost in a moment. We are proud of our nation. From the beginning our tenacity of purpose and resolution have governed this country. I am a soldier firm on determination. Enough of spells of drought and famines, enough of curses of scarcities and deprivations. In liberty, in freedom, in the invention of sincerity and candidness this land has grown. In the sacrifice, at the cost of thousands of martyrdom of soldiers, sages and pontiffs this country has prospered. Upon the valleys, on the hills, with spirit of honor and necessities of service serpent eagles (kukkuta sarpa) drop their hearts for the soldiers and saints. Lions and Tigers roam around calm and unruffled. Wolves and hyenas stray cool and composed. Birds and honeybees fluent in diversity, assured in colorful eloquence function as "wonder of nature". Sick in her pursuit, famished in her search for knowledge, truth and non-violence this land of sages has brought forth "spirit of honor" and immortal providence. Innate in wisdom and foresight, fetched from our fathers, how can I slide into error of judgment, how can I skid into fault of a prisoner, painted blind and damned to death. Since then the soul of Bahubali ascended to the roof of heaven. Impressed with these words. Bharata etched an image of Bahubali at the highest summit of the mountain in the midst of deep thick woodlands of podanpura. And the place became the habitat of hundreds of serpent eagles for a millennium and half.
You are the king of Ganga empire Marasimha ! Panchakbana Kannada poet 1614 proclaims in his work Bhujabali Charite O Marasimha ! Thunder of the power of your kingdom radiates from the sword, blood and fire. Wild Roars and trumpeting of your fierce elephants may be heard across Krishna and Cauvery. Armed heels of dreaded master king Rachamalla of Ganga Empire produced a minister Chavundaraya famed for his merit in poetry, known for his distinction in military warfare and excellence in architecture. Just as a sun in the shape of jewel adorned the crest of holy mountains. A moon with light of splendor of his celebrity makes the swelling oceans to thunder and roar, such a Brahmin decked in Kshatriya race, a gem to the pearl of necklace of Laxmi born to this part of earth. His kingdom was ruling in peace and wisdom. Yoke of his blood drowned in unrest, soaked in expertise and drenched in passion. One a day a merchant visited the palace of Chavundaraya at Talakad. Merchant told, Oh Kalika Devi ! You are mother of Chavundaraya a commander of army who set foot on the whole south Indian subcontinent thus is reputed to be called as "Veer Martanda Deva" for he trod upon God's ground and this piece of earth Jaina empire. Oh mother, you are valiant star in your visions and dreams and an empress of brave young world of Ganga rule. Podanpura a village at Sravanabelgola is a place forbidden by commons for further exploration, has since long become a moorland of abandoned glory. On the larger crest of hill is adorned a gold chiseled stone image of Gomata Jina. Burden of antiquity has rusted the appearance of image and drain of time has consumed the colossal figure of Gomateshwara. Capped on high hills, deserted by commons the abode of image of Bahubali molded in gold, notched on stones is reduced to an isolated, solitary, deep and dark jungle of wild beasts. Hovering shadow of kestrels and eagles casts a doom. Darker clouds play with soaring silhouettes of falcons. The aura of figure stands wretched in crumbles and doomed in muddles. Of late Kukkuta sarpas serpent eagles have infested this hill and made this place inhabitable. Upheaval of time and tide have ruined the light of its brilliance. Hearing the luster and glory of figure of Gomata once Rama and Sita set foot on the hills in the worship of the image of Bahubali. Mandodari the wife of Ravana too appeared to strike an esteemed look on the versatile smiling and cheerful face of such figure. O Chavunda Raya ! cried mother Kalika, Behold this divine image of Bahubali tapered on your foresight. In my dreams Bahubali appeared from inside some lofty rock. Go forth ! Fetch this celestial body enshrined within the marvel of rocks. Such spectacle of mighty miracle I cant afford to heave away upon my winged thoughts. I can no longer survive without visiting such a virtuous pilgrimage. I shall abstain from milk till I see the re-installation of Jina Monk Bahubali at the place. Chavunda lead me to such light!. The light of splendor of Ganga reign, the glory and grandeur of Jina saint, the beauty and wonder of Jain creed. Next day Chavunda Raya accompanying her mother climbed the hills of Podanpura.
Oh Rana Ranga Simha Chamvundaraya ! Pinnacle of this mountain has big boulders and heavy rocks galore cries her mother Kalika with joy, further describes Kavi Doddaiah in his work, Bhujabali Shataka 1550. Kalika Devi further screamed, Go forward Samara Dhurandara Chavunda ! Seek the purity of heart ascending the height of transformation of your soul. The holy place is far away on the high hills. Reaching there shoot an arrow to the south until the sound diminishes away. Perhaps you may find the spot. So be it. Thus spoke Vairikula Kaladanda Chavunda Raya. Oh Acharya Nemichandra please the gods to come with me. Lets us go together and find the place. My duty to you both, is on equal footing of love and admiration, great King Rachamalla, that I have labored, with all my wits, my pains, and strong endeavors reaching this place. But the site of Bahubali is difficult to spot. Goddess Kushmandi, a yakshini appeared in my dream of all of us here and proclaimed, saying Oh Bhuj Vikrama Chavuda Raya ! Millions of sages conjure up day and night in hard labor, industry and manners. This earth takes her fair son and from her blood raise up Jina monk like Bahubali. Such baptized saints rarely embark on the true life of celebrity and set their brave feet on hard soil. Play with your notions and work upon your vagaries, and in them behold the scene of Bahubali. Think of your dominions born with unscrupulous and creeping winds, drawn with deceitful ends and false rulings. Your kingdom is wrestling with myths of evils and wickedness. O Martanda Vira Chavundaraya ! Rachamalla has ascended the throne of Ganga Empire on the gallant blood of your sword and fire.
Oh Chavunda Raya Bhujbali Martanda ! Stand upon the fleet of majestic boulders. Further Anant Kavi 1780 in Gomateshwar Charite, narrates saying, Work your thoughts and act upon your devilish cannons. Cleave the highest boulder with a golden arrow. Chavunda Raya with his full might and splendor ripped apart the cleft in twain. Shooting of an arrow and shelling of a dart made an image of Bahubali apparent from the divine rocky stone of Gomatashwara. Chavundaraya thereafter consecrated the image of Bahubali. Thus the giant colossal standing upright statue was carved out of the highly placed big boulder. As the modest stillness commands the humility so the blast of strikes of sculpturist Arishtanemi ordered the simplicity upon hard rocks. As the blows of hammers of Baligrama and Charanahampa stone workers guided the shape, so the knots and jolts steered the decency, rectitude and righteousness of image. As the gust and booms of mallets of Maliyanna and Nagoja sounded the fury amidst the cool winds of thick forest, so the bangs and shots of chisels wrought the humble and diffident appearance of Bahubali atop the vindhyagiri hills of Sravana Belgola. Establishing Jinalayas and collecting coconut milk, five nectars, milk, curd, cleared butter mixing to make it a divine solution Chavundaraya performed anointing of complete image. But the heavenly solution of celestial nature would not descend lower than the navel of the image. Chavundaraya got highly distressed and frustrated. He brought great priests, clerics and pastors for the ritual of Maha mastaka abhisheka but the solution didnâ€™t pour down below upto the feet. At the moment Kushmandi a celestial fairy appeared at the scene in the form of an old woman called Gulkai Ajji and mixed the solution with Gulakayi drupe found in the woods. She roared, telling, Oh Chavundaraya ! This subcontinent of southern portion of Bhartat is hallowed with gift of nature. Up in the air, stands the mountain, crowned with the golden sun. Heroic seeds are dribbled by hundreds of monks and millions of crafty birds. Magical patterns of divinities govern the work of nature. From its essence thus stems the victorious stock of might and enforcement of conquering power. Hundreds of monks invest their capacity and lay apart their valor to borrow the glory of ecosystem, to lease the law of nature and to hire the gift of heavens. Then she poured the solution mixed with Gulkai a drupe and other medicines. Struck with magic and splendor of the divine solution, which descended to the foot of Bahubali, Chavundaraya admitted that the life is profane, full of futility and emptiness. He confessed that the mundane humdrum of routine in which a man is lost in this world is hollow, muffled and unembellished by customs and ordinance of time. Chavundaraya founded and established many towns for the worship of Gods.
A K Singh is the member of Indian Forest Service working in the Ministry of Forest and Ecology and Environment Government of Karnataka. Views portrayed here are Personal and are expressed in the wake of the references cite hereinafter. Contact 9481180956, [email protected]
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14. Panchakbana 1614 AD Bhujabali Charite
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16. Chavundaraya Purana or Charitasara by Chavundarya 978 AD Ganga Dynasty