Bhaktapūr, City of the Devotees
This last year, I stayed for a month at the Ecotel in Bhaktapur, Nepal. The Nepalese I encountered were a very kind people, and I enjoyed my stay immensely. The city itself is an antique treasure to behold; everywhere one looks, antiquity discloses itself in the minute details of the architecture, in the erosion of bricks, in the "killing them softly" style of pūjā in which the Nepalese are accustomed to worshiping their deities. Slowly, slowly, by the applications of tens of thousands of kuṁkum powder anointments and water abhiśekhas, the stones images have worn away, so that the once immaculate details of these intricate carvings erode, leaving only muted shapes behind.
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| This small maṇḍira rests atop a small hill surrounded on all sides by buildings. I stayed in the hotel embedded in the hillside. As you can see, the deity's face, stained with a deep hue of red, attest to the daily life of worship that embodies Nepali custom. |
The religious life of Bhaktapur appears as something of a melange of Hindu and Buddhist teachings. Viṣṇu, Śiva, Lakṣmī, Durgā, Kālī, and Varahī are among the most prominent images of deities I have so far come across in the local temples, yet the numerous Thaṅka schools and shops that pepper this small former capital city sport primarily Buddhist icons alongside the popular Hindu varieties.
Many of the Thaṅka shop workers and artists say that the Kāla-chakra-maṇḍala is the most popular image purchased by the many tourists who visit. And there are indeed very many tourists visiting these shops. One can surmise without too much ado that it is these tourists who provide a critical bulk of the income for this city. Indeed, one must purchase a $15.00 US visitor's pass to gain access to the central region of the city, where the architecture reaches its aesthetic height.
Darmur Square is perhaps the most lovely site in the whole area, sporting an old palace where the former rāja and rānī resided in times past, before Nepal was unified. Nowadays, it is littered with local students who frolic about the decaying architecture. Nepal reflects Hindu culture to such an extent that one might easily confuse the town for an Indian location. But again, there are many Buddhist influences that demarcate the city as Nepalese. Some of these, of course, are borrowed from Tibet, which lay just to the north of Nepal, now in Chinese territory.
Kāla-Cakra
One of my purposes for staying in Bhaktapūra was to learn the famous art of painting Thaṅkas. For six or seven days a week, I sat for some seven or eight hours, painting the intricate image of the Kāla-cakra-maṇḍala, the "Wheel of Time"; I had been planning to do this for some time now, and my need to renew my Indian tourist visa presented me with an ideal opportunity. As such, I decided to stay there for a month, spending my days painting, and my evenings reading, writing, assimilating the form of my studies.
The Kāla-Cakra, according to David Germano, while a Buddhist teaching tool, is derived in part from Vedic materials. The image is detailed but repetitious, consisting in iterations of similar forms, built one upon the other, leading to the center. Black, Red, Yellow, Blue, White form the bulk of the inner region, while Maroon, Orange, Green, and Dark Blue circumambulate the form. This comes in (at least) four varieties, each distinguished as the glow emanating from chakra, again: Yellow, Blue Red, Orange.
The pigments are traditionally derived from mineral-rich stones, the greatest merit of which, that the colors do not fade quickly, but last for many years. But buyer beware: these days, such a claim may be made out of purely economic considerations. Sometimes the paints are comprised of modern, synthetic pigments.
Initially, I painted on a paper photocopy of the maṇḍala's outline, but even before I could complete that, my teacher decided that I should work on the Thaṅka, the cotton canvas. I began that work after only a couple days. This single piece was about 80% complete after the month's end, including all the detailed ornamentation that will be layered atop the basic design.
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| My Thangkha Project (in process) |
Bhava-Cakra/Saṁsāra-Cakra/Wheel of Life
While I have always known one particular design by the name, Bhava-cakra, locals did not describe it as such. They called it either "The Wheel of Life" or else saṃsāra-cakra. As there were so very many Thangka schools in town, I did some wandering in order to locate a good Master of this image. After a short time, I met with one Tyen Jzin, a former Buddhist monk who studied with the Liṅg-Pas in Bangalore, India. We sat for a short while to discuss the nature of my work, and I presented to him my desire to learn bhava-cakra-maṇḍala from him. After explaining why I desired to do so, he derided my interpretation of the image, dissociating it from the cosmological impressions that I had related.
"No, so many people will say that this image is related to the seasons. They will say that the twelve images reflect the months, January, February, March. . . like that. Because you have studied this image in a particular way, so you interpret it that way; but the image is actually a teaching of the Buddha."
And like this, he took me through a teaching of the six realms: Human, God, Demigod, Hungry Ghosts, Hell and Animal life. Each he related to specific bhāvas, or emotional states: Anger, Greed, Pride, Envy, Desire, and Ignorance. And these he taught were to be overcome by the teachings of the Buddha, who pervades the six realms.
I don't entirely disagree with him; certainly, the role of the Buddha's teachings in motivating the construction of the image would be foolish to miss. And indeed, for many who revere and preserve these arts, the teachings remain a significant motive for producing the images. Still, I found it necessary to point out that his own view was somewhat if not entirely specific to the Liṅg-Pa Buddhists, while my own studies are rooted in other traditions that have also contributed to the overall significance of the image. After some time, we came to a putative agreement that he would teach me the art of painting the bhava-cakra.
It should be noted that even among those traditions which regard the bhava-cakra to belong to their heuristic "canon" of sacred maṇḍala teachings, there is considerable variation. And likewise, the image is depicted with some variance. But if one compares many of these images, some general patterns do emerge, providing evidence for the reconstruction of an earlier, perhaps extinct version of the image. Locating even one such antique image which conformed to the majority—or even better, totality—of these reconstructed symbols, would amply bolster our case, and might even provide us a hallmark of authenticity. That I am so little familiar with the variant traditions only amplifies the need to locate such an image.
Yāma, Lord of Death
Yāma, Lord of Death
Yāma frames the wheel of life, an important feature of our interpretation. For the very figure closely reflects dominant features of the form of the constellation, Boötes. Several features are notable in this regard:
1) Yāma is three-eyed, while the "head" of Boötes consists of three bright stars arranged in an identical fashion, if disproportionate to the rest of his "body". This suggests that the proportions might be "doubled", as we do see Jewels on his wrist which reflect the form of Boötes, in a similar alignment from the central ājñā-cakra to the wrists.
2) The realm of the bhūtas and pretas frequently usually depicted to Yāma's left side, reflecting the star rho Boö.
3) Archturus, or alpha Boö, is situated near the region where a copulating couple is often depicted in the image; this reflects the fact that Arcturus is considered Boötes' genitals.
4) Boötes' legs are also depicted in a sitting posture, again, much like Yāma's.
Other elements are similarly suggestive, and improve the overall case. There are numerous symbols depicted in the inner region of the image, many of which correspond to differing traditions of constellations. A few notable points on this:
5) Cetus (cf., Rāhu-Ketu) or some form of serpent is almost always depicted in the waters of the Animal realm.
6) Bulls and Cows are also popular, corresponding to Taurus.
7) Orion is usually depicted as a hunter, perhaps hunting Taurus, given where his bow is aiming. But other than that, I have recently come to suspect that he is identified with Gaṇeśa, for the following reasons:
a) The region of Orion from the belt down does appear to reflect the image of an elephant's head, looking straight on.
b) Just South of Orion is another constellation, related by the Greek tradition as a rabbit. Gaṇeśa is almost always associated with a rodent, and, if one looks closely, one can make out the profile image of a mouse, granting that one takes the star, Syrius as the tail. In this way, one can see the Elephant's head, riding atop the rodent.
Of course, we may ask what the "noose" is, if Yāma is Boötes. The noose may well be none other than Ursa Major, given the polysemy of that constellation in any tradition. This would indeed typify the American image of a Cowboy, lassoing animals, and indeed, we do know of a star, in Boötes, called the cowherd. In other traditions it is a Plough (cf., the old Irish flag commemorating the revolt of 1912???), while in others, it is the Grim Reaper's scythe. And again, in the Vedic tradition, at least according to Michael Witzel, it is the Seven Sages (saptārṣayaḥ). In various ways, then "Death" has been depicted with the instruments by which he brings life to an end. But in this case, we may note that Balrāma, with his plough, makes life possible, by tilling the fields, and thus making possible the crop. Here, the images of life and death are superimposed, merged even, in keeping with the earliest Upaniṣadic image of the "two deaths," (perhaps semiotic compliments to the "two births", dvi-jā?) one the elder, another the younger (saṁ-vatsara: the yearling calf). It is a testimony to the popularity of this ancient notion that a still common word for the year in South Asia dialects is "vatsar" (bacchar in Bengali).
8) Other animals populate that region of the sky:
a) fish (pisces, dolphinus, etc.)
b) birds (aquillus, cygnus, etc.)
c) Cancer (the crab)
d) Leo (the Lion).
e) Leo Minor (the Lion Cub)
f) Cameleopardalis (the Camel)
g) Ursa Major (the Large Bear)
h) Ursa Minor (the Bear Cub)
i) the Lynx
j) and the Goat-herd, Cephius
All of these bolster our case, as they can all be seen in variations of the Bhava-cakra.
9) The realm of humans is reflected of a region of the sky next to that of the realm I have related to the animals. Hercules, Boötes, Virgo, and Ophiuchus. Here, we have four humans, three males and a female. As Boötes is one of these, and, as he represents Death, perhaps these others also represent portions of life. We do recognize from the Greeks that Ophiuchus, at least, represent the return from death, perhaps owing to his own proximity to the celestial river of milk.
10) While the realm discussed in (9) is depicted as that of humans, it is perhaps also not to be disregarded in thinking of the gods represented in the maṇḍala. Ophiuchus, for example, does represent a mountain at times. This particular symbolic version can be seen in relation to a number of classical narratives, these to be addressed in a future blog, pending more research. Meru is the most important signification for the present moment, as the Bhava-chakra represents it at the peak of the wheel.
11) Nearby, Indra fights upon the elephant, Airāvata, whom I associate with Scorpio, which looks like an elephant's head looking in the direction of Saggitarius.
12) Saggitarius and Capricorn both represent "mixed" creatures, like Kinnāras or Kimpuruṣas. In this respect, they are counted among Śiva's gaṇa, and, from a Vaiṣṇava perspective, are regarded as "demons" (asura).
13) Scorpio is certainly a venomous creature, and is thus malevolent in some respect, representing the "darker" guṇa, tamas (cf., drops of the halahala poison from Śiva's nila-kaṇṭha episode in the Bhāgavata-Purāṇa). And nearby we also find the Hydra constellation (cf., Ahir-Budhnya, the "serpent at the bottom" [of the world]). Thus we see various poisonous creatures in this region of the sky, in addition to "mixed" categories.
14) The humans/divinities also lay at the opposite ends of Ophiuchus, when regarded as a mountain, or else Ophiuchus is counted among the gods, just as Śiva is counted among the devas (cf., Brahma-Saṁhitā). In this way, they stand, looking toward each other (for the most part) as if in combat.
15) And between these divinities and demonic forces lay the Milky Way itself, sometimes represented as a cloud, sometimes as the path of Nirvana that leads out of the wheel of birth and death.
16) Often, in the realm we associate with "heaven" here, there is a Buddha playing the stringed Vina. We have elsewhere suggested that this is also Narada-muni's Vina, being symbolic of the Lyra constellation. The Lyra constellation is important insofar as Vega, or alpha Lyr, is the brightest star seen in the sky during the Summer months (cf., dyumādga-dyuti), or the "Summit" of the Year.
17) The Hells:
These are less clear to this paradigm. It may be that they are something of an afterthought, a fragment that doesn't find a clear place in the image, and thus is "forced" into the heuristic of Buddhist teachings. However, there are "Southern" Constellations, or Constellations that are more visible toward the Southern hemisphere.
In any case, we note that Buddhism did catch on in Śrī Laṅkā quite early on in its history (some of the most conservative forms of Buddhism are found there today), suggesting that some of the tropes for the "hellish" realm may derive in part from astrological lore to be found in that area of the world. One matter which is suggestive of this can be seen in the fact that both the Vaiṣṇava Itihāsa, Valmiki's Rāmāyaṇa and the Buddhist narrative of conversion, depict Śrī Laṅka as a realm full of cannibals. Thus, to the Northern imagination, far removed from the realities of the South, such narratives may have fed into a "hellish" image of the Island's indigenous culture. Such a speculative hypothesis ought to be taken as putative and subject to revision following appropriate critical response. I pose it, not to enhance prejudices against Śrī Laṅkans, but to pose the fact a known history of this sort of depiction. I quite simply do not pose it as an ethically normative depiction. But I do separate that portion of history which is concerned with rescuing discernible facts from the one which attempts to construe the past in terms of politically "convenient" opinions. Let us not confuse these two issues.
