Borobudur at daybreak

As you ascend the over 100 steps to the top of the Borobudur Temple you actually pass through three levels symbolic of Buddhist cosmology all the way to Nirvana. Chances are that you will be climbing up, unawares, in the pre-dawn dark at 4.30 AM to catch the famous ‘Borobudur sunrise’ your progress aided by lights from the rechargeable torches thoughtfully provided with the ticket. You might still be rubbing your eyes and even be a little irascible at having to wake up at an ungodly hour on a holiday. The base, body and superstructure will strike you as heaving, gigantic masses of silhouetted stone, which they are. In Buddhism, the universe is divided into three superimposing spheres – kamadhatu, rupadhatu and arupadhatu which represent respectively the phase in our lives where we are bound by desires, when we are no more shackled by desires but still conform to a form and finally, formlessness. The Borobudur Temple, built around a hill, covers a total area of 2520 square metres, its base represents kamadhatu, the five concentric square terraces above it stands for rupadhatu and the gigantic stupa built over three tiers denotes arupadhatu.

Accessible Nirvana – the Borobudur sunrise

Passing through the different cosmology stages, as you reach the top, you attain the kind of Nirvana that is accessible to us mortals – an awe-inspiring sunrise.

Alarms were set for 3 AM and we were to report to the lobby of the heritage Phoenix Hotel in Yogyakarta where we were staying at 3.30 AM. While the Javanese are – as anyone who had the opportunity to interact closely with them will know – the most hospitable people in the world, those in the hospitality industry take it higher by several notches. Our breakfasts were packed in small paper boxes with fruit juice bottles and coffee in takeaway mugs. It didn’t matter that the ticket prices included a sumptuous buffet breakfast at the Manohara Hotel within the Borobudur complex. The driver was an ebullient youngster who floored it through the deserted streets in the wee hours; by the time we reached the site the moon was yet to call it a day. I espied the ethereal grey-glow of the silvery light over the towering remains of the largest Buddhist temple in the world. It reminded me of the equally appealing ‘full moon over the Taj Mahal’ which I had done thrice from Delhi where I live. The marble shimmer a satiny sheen, the billowy domes dapple like miniature universes you can reach out and touch. For the first time in my life, sheer beauty translated into a choking emotion. I think we have a thing for celestial bodies making their way over manmade wonders; maybe because they add a certain timelessness to us mortals. A yearning not difficult to fathom if we transpose what Orwell said about man’s need to write to his need to build: it feeds the ego. ‘A desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death.’ It is applicable to all pursuits that transcend time. The grander he builds a place of worship, the bigger his desire to be remembered – with the gods. 

One of the greatest Buddhist monuments in the world

The Borobudur, in the Kendu Valley of Central Java, is one of the greatest Buddhist monuments in the world. It is believed to have been built during the 8^th and 9^th centuries by the Sailendra dynasty who ruled Java for five centuries till the 10^th century. There are chiefly three monuments in the Borobudur Temple compound – the main Borobudur Temple and two smaller temples situated on an east axis, the Mendut and the much smaller Pawon Temple. The monumental stupa built on three tiers is the main temple. There are total of 2672 fine low relief panels decorating the walls and 504 Buddha statues including 72 openwork stupas. I stretched my GoPro through the stone mesh of the openwork to see how the Enlightened One might be faring inside. Claustrophobic, would he be? Of course, He didn’t seem to care – the beatific smile was intact. Hands of tourists snaked through, shoulders strained to touch the stupas inside – any sort of struggle is deemed good for a fortuitous destiny.

The Enlightened One with the beatific smile

A hum of camaraderie and slight confusion permeated the liminal period between closing night and opening dawn. Those who had arrived early had placed their cameras at the best vantage points. Some of those who arrived late tried to clamber up the stupas only to be told down by the tourism officers. I walked around with my compass to find the exact east; the stupas were all facing east but I wanted to leave no room for error especially when I was about to witness a most elysian sight. I met another tourist who was visiting the temple complex for the third straight day as it was cloudy the last two days. She warned the conditions didn’t look very bright that day either. There is nothing much you can do about such things except keep your fingers crossed and not look too dismayed. Being July, I was also informed by a tourism officer, almost conspiratorially, that the sun didn’t come out of a low-horizon haze till about 6AM. This meant the sun would be considerably high up by the time we got our first glimpse of it. This was exactly how it happened. But the way the light finally washed blue over the misty treetops and then flamed a chestnut over the temple-side of the hill was nothing short of ethereal.

Fine low relief panels with the life of the Buddha

Around the 14^th century, Buddhism was on the decline in Java because of large-scale conversion to Islam. Borobudur went through at least 10 centuries of neglect before it was rediscovered in 1815 buried under volcanic ash. It was Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, the British ruler of Java, informed of its existence by locals, who took a serious interest in reviving it. That the complex was largely intact is a glowing tribute to the architecture and stonework – instead of cement, mortar or any kind of glue, the structure is put in place through interlocking of massive blocks of stone. Something like Lego. In Prambanan too, around 50 km away, the technique was the same; the complex too had withstood earthquakes. The efficacy of the technique makes you wonder whether we have really progressed in our construction methods. Borobudur underwent several restorations since its rediscovery. The most elaborate was the one carried out between 1975 and 1982 by the Indonesian government and UNESCO following which it was declared a World Heritage Site.

That liminal period – between closing night and opening dawn

Save for a tenacious rooster at an outlying village, the aurora was welcomed by pindrop silence. The sun diffused through the clouds, light faint enough to wash over like waves. Like anything of a lasting impact, the beauty revealed itself gradually and didn’t hit you out of nowhere. It grew around you, with you. Within a few minutes the temple complex was alit, a giant wick blooming. You could easily imagine the seraphs agog at the glory unfurling as the rest of the world beamed rapturous. Camera shutters at incessant work punctuated by an occasional human gasp. Even the habitually agelast Japanese could be seen gadding about with content smiles – finally something to justify their expensive lenses perhaps.

Mortal builders and immortal creators

The Borobudur is the most-visited site in Indonesia probably justifying the high entry ticket rates. Umpteen bloggers and vloggers have dwelt on the subject of this being a boondoggle or not. It really depends on how keen you are, not even about photography, but to see a manmade marvel in the backdrop of a celestial one. And find out whether the works of both mortal builders and immortal creators can be beheld with the same awe.