Bharata in Natya Shastra, the Sanskrit compendium on the performing arts, describes adbhuta rasa as a sense of amazement that comes through the recognition of one's own ignorance of the facets of life that remain beyond the pale of knowledge. A similar sense of wonder overcomes the reader when he scans the images of Alka Pande's book, DIVINE GESTURE: THE MAGNIFICENCE OF MEWAR SPIRITUALITY (Penguin, Rs 2,099). Pande's own contribution to the book - except for her effort to catalogue and document the artifacts she writes about - remains minimal. It is mainly a set of perceptive essays by a group of scholars that brings clarity and depth to what could have been merely a lavishly illustrated book meant for casual reading.
Pande, who was searching for paintings for an exhibition at Pinacothèque de Paris, chanced upon a treasure trove of 308 sculptures in the collection of Arvind Singh - the 76th successor of the Mewar royal house. These sculptures were originally parts of the Hindu and Jain temples built by Gurjara-Pratihara rulers during the 7th century CE. During the medieval period, many of these temples were plundered by Muslim rulers. Local villagers brought the surviving sculptures to Arvind Singh's father for safe-keeping. They are now housed in the City Palace Museum of Udaipur.
The sculptures - a motley of divine and semi-divine figures, motifs of flora and fauna, and decorated panels from temples - have been divided thematically by Pande. The bulk of the figures consists of popular gods and goddesses of the Hindu pantheon. However, unlike the gods, who are mostly depicted in their fearsome and virile forms, the goddesses show a range of emotions. We have, on the one hand, benevolent Lakshmi, the embodiment of wealth and prosperity, sitting serenely on an eight-petal lotus, while on the other hand, we have Kal Ratri, the fiercest incarnation of Durga - the destroyer of all evils. Most alluring are the figures of the Surasundaris, celestial nymphs, who have the power to change their forms and are noted for their dancing skills. Posing seductively in a tribhanga (S-shaped) form, they are unclothed, except for delicate antariyas (inner garments) and loads of ornaments. Jostling with the divine are heroes, men killed in battles, who achieve mythical status through memorial stones that used to grace the outer precincts of the temples.
Although the sense of wonder that the images evoke is real, the book, nonetheless, is a painful reminder of our own insouciance regarding our history. Our propensity to see divine figures as objects of reverence and not as pieces of history has made our rich artistic heritage vulnerable. This book is a worthy, if not the best, effort to evoke curiosity about this endangered tradition.
The picture above depicts footmarks, which are thought to bear the energy of a deity worshipped and, therefore, metaphorically represent the deity itself.
