It is a beautiful single lane rural road. Tall banyan trees flank the road on both sides. Dappled sunlight makes the road appear like a golden and grey patch-worked quilt. There are no other vehicles in sight. A farmer is tilling his patch of land the old fashioned way – using bullocks. All I hear is the soft hum of wheels, the sound of birds and the whoosh of the wind. I am driving towards Belavadi, a tiny village in Chikmangluru district of Karnataka, the site of a beautiful Tricot Hoyasala temple. My cousin has recommended this temple to me. According to him, the Belavadi temple is even more beautiful than the great temples of Halebidu and Beluru.

Having just visited Beluru and Halebidu, I find his claim difficult to accept. ‘It would be hard, nay, impossible to outdo the beauty of Beluru and Halebidu temples, with their exquisite carvings and perfect symmetry,’ I tell him. He merely smiles, and says, ‘At least go to Belavadi before you say that.’ I give in and decide to go to Belavadi.

Today’s Belavadi is a tiny village, what was earlier known as an Agrahara, a village arranged in an ever-widening circle, with the temple at its centre and houses of people arranged in a circular fashion around it like a garland. The houses are painted in bright colours like emerald green, azure blue and a vivid yellow. It is a cloudy day in June and the light that falls on the village is a lovely, diffused light that appears to light up the houses from within. According to legend, Belavadi was earlier known as Ekachakranagari, the place mentioned in the Mahabharatha where Bheem killed the Rakshasa Bakasura and protected the village and its people.

As I enter the village, I see the three tall spires of the temple from afar. The Belavadi temple is a trikuta temple, one with three shikharas and three sanctum sanctorums. Like all Hoyasala temples, the Belavadi temple too is built on a star-shaped platform. This is a ‘living’ temple, where worship has been continuously carried out for more than the last eight hundred years. Unlike the more famous temples of Beluru and Halebidu, this magnificent temple was spared the vandalism by Islamic invaders in the 14^thcentury because of its remote location. The temple is spread over a large area, with ornate carvings decorating its three shikharas. The presiding deity is Shri Vishnu, albeit in three different forms. Like all Hoyasala temples, the exterior walls of the temple are full of exuberantly carved panels, with the lower levels dominated with scenes from everyday life and the higher levels dedicated to large panels depicting the Gods and Goddesses.

The Veer Narayana temple of Belavadi is said to have been built in 1200 CE by Hoyasala King Veera Ballal II. Consistent with other Hoyasala temples, this temple is built from a type of stone called chloritic schist, commonly known as soapstone. This particular stone is easy to carve when freshly excavated, but becomes harder as it gets exposed to the elements. The temple is truly exquisite, with its perfect symmetry, its magnificent 108 lathe turned pillars polished to perfection and its three spire plan.

As I enter the temple precincts, I am stunned by the pure silence that pervades the walls. I am the only visitor today, and the temple looks like it is looking inwards. I walk with a muted tread, not wishing to disturb the silence. I feel like an intruder. I climb the steps leading to the Nrityamandapa. The Belavadi temple too follows the Hoysala pattern of a single Nrityamandapa connecting all three shikharas. The 108 lathe turned, perfectly polished pillars shimmer in revolt of their inherently dull texture. The Nrityamandapa is swaying to an exquisite symphony of light and shade.

I walk towards the main sanctum sanctorum. The central shrine is dedicated to Veer Narayana, a magnificent 9 foot tall Vigraha carved out of a single slab of black granite from the banks of the Gandaki River. The hands of the Murtiare shown in the Veer Mudra. The expression on the face of the Vigraha is intriguing, it is serenity laced with controlled strength and vigour.

I stand with my hands folded, my mind in a swirl upon seeing such an exquisitely carved vigraha. I forget to pray, to ask for something. I am just content to be in the presence of God. I don’t know how long I continue to stand like that. Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I turn to see a young priest walking towards me, clad in a spotless white Dhoti and Uttariya. He smiles at me and starts to speak in Kannada. ’Nammage Kannada barudilla’, I say hesitantly. He immediately switches to perfect English.

His name is Prashant Bharadwaj. He is the hereditary priest of this temple. Prashant tells me that his family has written proof of their having been the hereditary priests of the temple for the last 400 years at least!

’This is a beautiful temple’, I say, my voice breaking.

‘Yes, luckily, it has been spared the vandalisation and destruction that temples of Halebidu and Beluru have had to face at the hands of Mallik Kafur’s marauding army,’ Prashant says with a grimace.

He murmurs a mantra for me in a soft, mellifluous voice and offers me teerthand some prasad. He then takes me around to see the other two Garbhagrihas.

The other two shrines are dedicated to Shri Vishnu as Venu Gopal (flute playing Krishna) and Yog Narsinha – Narsinha seated in a meditative yoga posture to control his rage after killing Hiranyakashyapu. Narsinha was the family deity of the Hoyasala kings and because of this, one finds many images of both Ugra Narsinha (Narsinha in a rage) as well as Yog Narsinha (Narsinha in a meditative pose) in Hoyasala temples.

I am stunned by the sight of all three Vigrahas. The facial expressions of Lord Venu Gopal are so exquisitely carved that your head echoes spontaneously with the entrancing melody of his flute. Yog Narsinha is sitting with a Yoga belt around his knees, his face inscrutable, yet serene. Suddenly, I find my eyes misting over. I salute the unknown shilpis who created such fine art. 

‘Why are there so few visitors to this temple’? I ask Prashant.

‘Maybe because it is a bit far away from the main tourist circuit? Only people who are genuinely interested in Hoyasala temples come here’, he says.

I take Prashanth’s leave with folded hands and go for a little walk in the village. I hear a child gurgling with laughter. I follow the voice, to see a young mom play with her toddler. The mom calls her baby ‘Kalla Krishna’ – Krishna the butter thief. The baby does look like Krishna, with his dusky complexion, a curly mop of hair, Kajal in his big expressive eyes and silver anklets in his feet. I smile at the child’s antics. The mother smiles too, and makes the child fold his chubby hands into a namaste. The three spires of the Veer Narayana temple look down upon this domestic scene benignly, as they must have for so many centuries!

How to Go

Belavadi is 29 km from Chikmagluru on the Chikmagalur-Javagal highway. It is located a short distance away from the more famous Hoysala temple towns of Beluru and Halebidu. You need to have your own vehicle to visit Belavadi