Ambarnath: An Eleventh Century Temple at the End of a Mumbai Local

Ambarnath is one of the securely dated temples of western India, which makes it valuable well beyond its own beauty.

What the inscription gives:

• A date corresponding to 1060 CE
• A reference to a ruler of the Shilahara line, generally read as Mamvani or Mummuni
• The record places the building firmly in the middle of the eleventh century

Who the Shilaharas were:

• A dynasty, or rather three related branches, who ruled parts of the Konkan and the Kolhapur region from roughly the eighth to the thirteenth centuries
• The north Konkan branch, based around Thane, held this territory
• They were generally feudatories of larger powers, the Rashtrakutas and then the Chalukyas of Kalyani, before periods of greater independence
• They were displaced eventually by the Yadavas of Devagiri

Why dated buildings matter so much. Most Indian temples carry no inscription, and dating them depends on stylistic comparison, which is circular unless it is anchored somewhere.

A building like Ambarnath, with a firm date and abundant sculpture, becomes a reference point. Other undated temples can be placed by comparison with it, and the whole chronology of a region's architecture rests on a small number of such anchors.

This is why archaeologists and art historians care disproportionately about inscribed temples that are otherwise unremarkable, and why the loss of an inscription is a bigger loss than the loss of a similar amount of sculpture. Ambarnath happens to be both dated and superb, which is rare.

The temple's superstructure belongs to a specific and rather beautiful type, and knowing what to look for changes what you see.

What Bhumija is:

• A variety of the northern Nagara tradition, distinguished by how the tower is organised
• The shikhara carries vertical bands of small shrine models, called kutastambhas, running from base to summit
• These are arranged in rows and tiers, so the tower reads as a grid of miniature spires rather than a single curving mass
• Between the bands run the projecting central offsets, the latas

Where the type is found:

• It flourished in central India and the Deccan, in Malwa, Vidarbha, and the Konkan
• Major examples include temples in Madhya Pradesh and Maharashtra, and the type is strongly associated with the eleventh to thirteenth centuries

Why it looks the way it does. The visual effect is of a mountain built out of smaller mountains, which is exactly the intention. The shikhara in Indian thought represents Meru or a peak, and Bhumija makes that explicit by building the peak out of repeated smaller peaks, in the same way a range is made of summits.

At Ambarnath the shikhara is not complete at the top, so the effect has to be read from what remains, and photographs of intact Bhumija towers elsewhere help.

The star shaped plan of the temple works with this. The walls step in and out in a series of projections, so that the light moves across the sculpture at every hour of the day, and the building never looks the same twice. That is not a side effect. It is the reason the plan was used.

The most immediately striking thing about visiting Ambarnath is that you go down to the deity, not up.

What happens:

• The temple compound sits below the level of the surrounding ground
• Within the temple, the sanctum is lower still, and a flight of steps descends to the linga
• The effect is of entering a cave rather than a hall

Why this might be. Several factors are usually mentioned, and they are not exclusive:

• Ground level rises over centuries around old buildings, through silt, rubble and construction, so a temple that once stood level can end up sunken without anyone intending it
• Some temples were deliberately built with a lowered sanctum, on the understanding that the garbhagriha, the womb chamber, should feel enclosed and subterranean
• The cave association is deep in Shaiva practice. Shiva's oldest shrines are caves, from Amarnath to Elephanta to the countless natural cavities holding lingas across India

What the descent does to a visitor. This is worth attending to, because it is a designed effect whatever its origin.

• You move from bright open compound to a dim enclosed space in a few steps
• The temperature drops
• Sound changes, and the ambient noise of the town cuts off
• You arrive at the linga at eye level or below, rather than looking up at an image

The standard grammar of a large temple leads you inward along a horizontal axis toward a distant point. Ambarnath instead takes you downward, which is a different bodily experience and produces a different kind of attention.

The word garbhagriha means womb chamber. A sanctum you descend into makes the metaphor literal in a way that a hall on level ground cannot.

The carving is the reason Ambarnath is sometimes described as Maharashtra's Khajuraho, and while the comparison is loose the density is real.

What is on the walls:

• Forms of Shiva in considerable variety, including Nataraja and Ardhanarishvara
• The Kalyanasundara, the marriage of Shiva and Parvati, a favourite subject of the period
• Ganesha, Karttikeya, Chamunda and other deities
• Surasundaris, celestial women in the standard repertoire of poses
• Couples, attendants, musicians and dancers
• Kirtimukhas, foliage bands and dense ornamental work filling every gap

Inside:

• The mandapa pillars carry carving of a quality that repays close attention
• The ceiling work is worth looking up for, which almost nobody does
• Doorframes and thresholds carry their own programmes

How to look at it. Temple sculpture of this density defeats visitors who try to take it in at once. A method helps:

• Walk the exterior once slowly in one direction, not stopping, to see the rhythm of the projections
• Walk it again and look only at the main niches, which carry the principal deities
• Then look at the bands between them
• Finally go inside and look up

On condition. The temple has been standing for nearly a thousand years in a monsoon climate, and the surfaces have weathered. Some panels are crisp, others are almost gone. This is normal for the region and does not indicate neglect.

What is not normal, and is worth saying, is the pressure the site is under from being inside a rapidly growing town. A monument this good, this old and this accessible deserves better protection than a rope and a sign.

Getting there

• Ambarnath, Thane district, Maharashtra, roughly 60 km from central Mumbai
• Ambarnath station on the Central line is a short walk or a very short auto ride from the temple. This is by far the easiest way
• From CSMT the journey takes around an hour and a half by local train
• By road, from Mumbai via the Kalyan side, longer in traffic

Timings

• Open through the day. It is both a working temple and a protected monument
• Morning for the light on the eastern face and for a quieter compound

When to go

• November to February for comfortable weather
• Mahashivratri, when a large fair is held and the temple is at its busiest by a wide margin
• Shravan Mondays, which bring heavy local crowds
• The monsoon makes the Waldhuni run and the compound green, and the carving looks its best wet, though the steps get slippery

How to see it

• Walk the exterior first, all the way round, before going in
• Descend to the sanctum, and give yourself a minute for your eyes to adjust
• Look up in the mandapa
• Allow an hour and a half at least. Most visitors give it fifteen minutes and miss almost everything

Practical notes

• Remove footwear at the appropriate point and follow the temple's rules
• The steps down are worn and can be slippery. Hold the rail
• Photography of the exterior is generally fine. Ask about the sanctum
• Carry water. There is little shade in the compound
• Weekdays are far quieter than weekends

Combining the visit

• Kalyan and Ulhasnagar are close by on the same line
• Malanggad and the hill forts of the region for those who walk
• The Kanheri caves at Borivali, and Elephanta in the harbour, complete a picture of ancient religious architecture around Mumbai

A closing thought. People in Mumbai will tell you the city has nothing old. It has an eleventh century temple with a dated inscription and world class sculpture, forty minutes past Thane on a train that runs every few minutes, and on a weekday you can have it more or less to yourself.