Katarmal: The Sun Temple Whose Door Was Stolen

Katarmal's most famous object is not at Katarmal, and the reason is a story that recurs across India.

What happened:

• The temple had an intricately carved wooden door at the sanctum, of the Katyuri period, regarded as an exceptional piece of early Himalayan woodwork
• In the 1980s it was stolen
• It was subsequently recovered
• It is now held at the National Museum in New Delhi
• The doorway at Katarmal remains, without it

Why it is in Delhi and not back at Katarmal. The reasoning is straightforward and is the same reasoning applied at hundreds of Indian sites.

• The object was stolen once and the site is remote, lightly staffed and difficult to secure
• A museum can provide climate control, security and conservation that a hillside temple cannot
• The object is available to be studied and seen by very large numbers of people

Why that is nonetheless a loss. Also straightforward.

• The door was made for that doorway, and its carving relates to the building around it
• An architectural element in a museum case is a fragment of something rather than a part of it
• The community that owned it does not have it
• A visitor to Katarmal sees an absence

The general problem. This is one of the central unresolved issues in Indian heritage and it is worth setting out clearly.

The scale of theft:

• Very large numbers of sculptures and architectural elements have been removed from Indian sites since the nineteenth century, and the trade continued heavily through the late twentieth
• Objects have gone to private collections and to museums worldwide
• Many were taken from living temples, meaning the community lost a deity, not an artefact
• A significant number of returns have been negotiated in recent decades, and India has recovered a considerable quantity of material

The vulnerability:

• India has an extraordinary density of protected and unprotected sites
• Many are remote, unstaffed and in active worship
• Security is expensive and cannot cover everything
• Removing a small bronze from an unguarded village shrine is not difficult

The dilemma:

• Leaving objects in situ preserves context and community access, and exposes them to theft and weather
• Moving them to museums protects them and severs them from their place and their purpose
• There is no answer that gets both

Where the balance is being struck now. Increasingly, the preference is for in situ preservation with improved security where possible, and for return of recovered objects to their original sites where the site can protect them.

That is the right instinct and it is expensive. It also depends on the local community having both the resources and the standing to look after the object, which is a matter of policy rather than of goodwill.

What a visitor can do:

• Do not buy antiquities. The market is what drives the theft. An object with no documented provenance was almost certainly taken from somewhere
• Report anything you see being removed from a site
• Do not take anything, including fragments, stones or carvings, from any site
• Support museums and organisations working on repatriation and in situ conservation

At Katarmal, look at the doorway with nothing in it. That is what the trade produces at the far end.

Katarmal is a Katyuri temple, and knowing the dynasty makes the whole of Kumaon legible.

Who they were:

• A dynasty ruling much of Kumaon and parts of Garhwal from roughly the seventh to the eleventh centuries, with successor branches later
• Capital at Kartikeyapura, modern Baijnath, in the Gomti valley
• Their name derives variously from Kartikeya or from a place name
• They were succeeded by the Chands in Kumaon and the Panwars in Garhwal

What they built. This is what matters for a visitor.

The Katyuri temples are a distinct architectural group and once you can recognise them you will see them across Kumaon.

• Baijnath, on the Gomti, their capital's temple complex
• Katarmal, the sun temple
• Jageshwar, the great Shiva temple group in a deodar valley near Almora, with over a hundred shrines
• Bageshwar, at the Saryu and Gomti confluence
• Numerous smaller temples throughout the region

The Katyuri style:

• Stone construction, in the nagara idiom with a curvilinear shikhara
• Comparatively small in scale, and frequently in groups rather than singly
• Simpler surface treatment than contemporary plains temples, with the carving concentrated on doorframes
• Frequently sited in deodar groves or on ridges
• Built of local stone, dressed and laid without mortar in many cases

Jageshwar deserves emphasis. If you visit only one Katyuri site, it should probably be Jageshwar rather than Katarmal.

• Over a hundred temples in a narrow valley, along a stream, under very large deodars
• Dating from roughly the seventh to the twelfth centuries
• Includes the Dandeshwar and Kuber groups nearby
• A Jyotirlinga in local tradition, though not in the standard national list
• Under the Archaeological Survey and in worship

The effect of a hundred stone temples in a deodar forest by a stream is unlike anything else in India, and Jageshwar is about 35 km from Almora.

Why Kumaon has so many temples. The region's temple density is remarkable and the reasons are worth setting out.

• Long continuous rule by dynasties that patronised temple building
• Local stone suitable for construction, quarried nearby
• A landscape of ridges and valleys producing many discrete communities, each with its own shrines
• Relative isolation, which meant less destruction and less rebuilding, so early fabric survives
• A strong tradition of local deities, described in the Haat Kalika entry, alongside the Sanskritic temples

The Chand period. The Katyuris were succeeded by the Chand dynasty, who ruled Kumaon from Champawat and later Almora from around the eleventh to the eighteenth centuries.

Chand period temples, including at Champawat and Almora itself, continue and modify the Katyuri idiom, and the Baleshwar temple at Champawat is among the finest.

The Chands fell to Gorkha invasion in the late eighteenth century, and Kumaon passed to the British after the Anglo Nepalese war of 1814 to 1816.

Katarmal is oriented so that the rising sun reaches the sanctum, which is what a Sun temple should do and what many claim without delivering.

What is reported:

• The temple faces east
• The rays of the rising sun enter through the doorway and reach the image in the sanctum
• The effect is most pronounced at particular times of year

How to check it. The general method set out in the Arasavalli entry applies.

• Establish which dates are claimed
• Be there before sunrise
• Understand that the sunrise position moves through the year and that a fixed axis is aligned on only two dates, symmetric about a solstice
• Understand that Gregorian dates for an ancient alignment drift over centuries

A specific complication at Katarmal. The temple faces east across a valley toward a ridge line.

That means the effective sunrise, the moment the sun clears the horizon as seen from the temple, is later than astronomical sunrise, and the azimuth at which it appears is affected by the height of the ridge opposite.

Builders working with a real horizon rather than a theoretical one had to account for this, and any alignment at a mountain site is an alignment to the local skyline, not to the flat horizon.

That is a more difficult piece of observation than it sounds, and it is a point in favour of the builders rather than against them.

Solar orientation across Indian temples. Worth setting out because it is more common than people assume.

• The great majority of Indian temples face east, so that the deity faces the rising sun
• That is a general orientation, not a precise alignment
• A precise alignment, in which light reaches a specific point on specific dates, is a further and much harder achievement
• Documented or claimed examples include Konark, Modhera, Arasavalli, Katarmal, and a number of others
• Some claims survive checking and some do not

Why east. The reasoning is set out in the texts and is simple.

• The east is the direction of the rising sun, of beginnings and of light
• The devotee entering an east facing temple walks west, into the sanctum, with the light behind them
• The deity faces the devotee and the sunrise together
• The Vastu and Agama texts prescribe orientation in detail, including the permitted exceptions

Exceptions and what they mean:

• North facing temples occur and are generally acceptable
• West facing temples are rare and usually carry a story explaining the exception, as at Srikurmam
• South facing temples are rarer still and are frequently associated with fierce or protective deities, since south is the direction of Yama

So the direction a temple faces is information, and noticing it is one of the easier things a visitor can do that most visitors never think about.

At Katarmal specifically. Go at sunrise. The temple faces east on a ridge with a very long view, the light arrives across the valley, and whatever the precise alignment does or does not do on any given date, the building was plainly designed by somebody who wanted to be there when the sun came up.

The deity's name here is unusual and deserves a section.

Burhadityaa or Vraddhaditya means the old or aged Aditya.

Why that is strange. Solar deities are almost universally associated with youth, vigour and renewal.

• The sun rises new every day
• Surya is depicted as a radiant figure, not an aged one
• The daily cycle is the standard image of renewal in every tradition

So a Sun called old is going against the grain, and the reason is worth thinking about.

Possible readings:

• The antiquity of the shrine itself, with the deity's age standing for the age of the site
• A local sense of the sun as an ancient presence rather than a daily one, which fits a mountain landscape where the sun is a fixed feature and the seasons are the variable
• A distinction from other Aditya shrines, marking this one as the senior
• A local usage whose original sense is not recoverable

The Adityas. Worth explaining since the name uses the term.

• The Adityas are a group of Vedic deities, sons of Aditi
• Their number varies: six, seven, eight or twelve in different sources
• The twelve Adityas came to be associated with the twelve months, each governing a month
• Surya is one of them and becomes the principal one
• The others include Mitra, Varuna, Aryaman, Bhaga, Amsha, Dhatri, Indra, Vivasvan, Pushan, Parjanya and Tvashtri, though lists differ

Aditi. Their mother is one of the more interesting Vedic figures.

• Her name means unbounded or free from limits
• She is described as the mother of the gods and as the sky, the earth and all that is
• She is invoked for release from bonds, from guilt and from constraint
• The Adityas are her sons and their name simply means her offspring

That is a substantial idea. The sun and the deities of the natural and moral order are the children of unboundedness.

The twelve Adityas in practice:

• Recited in the Surya Namaskar in some traditions, with a mantra for each of the twelve postures
• Associated with the twelve months of the solar year
• Invoked in the Aditya Hridayam
• Appearing in temple iconography as a group, particularly on doorframes and in ceiling panels

The Kumaoni context. Sun worship in the Himalaya has its own character.

• The sun's position and the length of the day matter intensely in a mountain agricultural year
• South facing slopes are cultivable and north facing slopes frequently are not, so aspect determines settlement
• Kumaoni villages are overwhelmingly on the sunny side of a valley, and the local terms for the two aspects are basic geographical vocabulary
• A Sun temple on a ridge, in a country where where the sun falls decides where people can live, is not an abstract observance

That is worth carrying up to Katarmal. The temple is on a ridge that gets the light, in a landscape where getting the light is the difference between a village and a forest.

Getting there

• Katarmal, Almora district, Uttarakhand, at about 1,550 metres
• About 17 km from Almora town, off the Almora to Ranikhet road near Kosi
• The road goes to Adhauli or Kosi, and the temple is reached by a walk of around 2 km uphill from the road
• Kathgodam is the nearest railhead, about 90 km
• Pantnagar is the nearest airport
• Taxis and shared vehicles run from Almora

The walk up. This is worth noting because it catches people out.

• A climb of around 2 km from the roadhead on a path
• Not difficult but it is uphill and at altitude
• Allow an hour up
• Carry water

Timings

• The site is under the Archaeological Survey and is generally open through the day
• Worship is limited. This is closer to a monument than to a working temple

When to go

• March to June and September to November for the best conditions
• Sunrise, for the alignment and for the light, which means starting the walk in the dark
• Winter is cold with occasional snow and clear views
• Avoid the peak monsoon for road and path conditions

What to look at

• The main shrine and its carved stone doorway
• The empty doorway where the stolen wooden door belonged
• The subsidiary shrines, which are numerous and varied
• The views north, which on a clear day take in Nanda Devi, Trishul and the Panchachuli group
• The stonework, and how the temples are built without mortar

Practicalities

• There are no facilities at the site. Carry water and food
• The site is very quiet and you may have it to yourself
• Take everything out with you
• Do not remove anything from the site

Combining the visit

• Jageshwar, about 35 km from Almora, which is the site to prioritise if you have to choose
• Almora town, with the Nanda Devi temple, the Chitai Golu Devta temple and the bazaar
• Chitai Golu Devta, where the temple is hung with thousands of bells and with written petitions, including legal documents, addressed to the deity as a judge. It is one of the most striking shrines in Kumaon and is described further in the Haat Kalika entry
• Kasar Devi, above Almora, associated with the artists and writers who settled there in the twentieth century
• Binsar wildlife sanctuary, for the views and the forest
• Ranikhet, Kausani and the Katyuri valley
• Baijnath and Bageshwar, further north

A Kumaon temple route. Kathgodam or Kathgodam by rail, then Almora as a base.

• Day one: Almora town, Chitai Golu Devta, Kasar Devi
• Day two: Jageshwar and the Dandeshwar group
• Day three: Katarmal at sunrise, then on to Kausani or Binsar
• Day four: Baijnath and Bageshwar
• Day five: onward to Gangolihat for Patal Bhuvaneshwar and Haat Kalika

That is a week that takes in a ninth century sun temple, a hundred Katyuri Shiva temples in a deodar forest, a deity who receives legal petitions, a cave temple you enter on your stomach and a goddess maintained by an infantry regiment.

None of it involves Nainital or Mussoorie, and almost nobody does it.

A closing thought. The best thing at Katarmal is not there. It is in a case in Delhi, correctly conserved, properly labelled and available to scholars.

What is at Katarmal is the doorway it came out of, on a ridge above a valley, with the sun coming up over the opposite hill onto a ninth century building that somebody put there to catch exactly that.