Published in Airports India Magazine, Oct 2016

Gingee --- Imposing even in ruins

 

I have wheels for feet and have hibernated for too long, thanks to the irksome Chennai weather and lack of appropriate company to go on a jaunt. The travel bug in me begs for an outing and I pull myself out of lethargy’s cocoon to heed the call. But where do I go and for how long? Sekhar, our chauffer of many years who is entirely aware of my penchant for travel comes to my rescue. “Madam, why don’t we go on a day trip, to begin with, out of Chennai?” he suggests.

 “Senji, perhaps,” he adds.

 Senji?  Probably some of my relatives belong to the place but what’s really there, I ask him.

“Why, madam, you could spend an entire day in the fort there? Don’t you remember that MGR film Raja Desingu with wonderful songs that was based on the famous fort of Senji?” Sekhar begins to reel out a few hit songs from the 1960 flick. That does the trick - the songs!

 Ah, Ginghee Fort! Hmmm… it is the anglicized name of “Senji”, by which I know this impregnable fort of Tamilnadu.

 Sekhar is aghast that I had not watched the Puratchi Thalaivar’s (as MGR is known) film, but sheepishly admits that it was a big box office flop!

 Being a complete Delhi-bred, I was not much into movies from the South though I thoroughly enjoyed Tamil film songs, thanks to a brood of aunts and uncles who would entertain us with them during our visits to Chennai during vacations. In fact, a couple of them, had they stepped out of the traditional cocoon of pursuing careers as academicians, could have successfully cooed away in Kollywood!

 Anyway, getting back on track, my decision is instantaneous. A few bottles of water, some snacks and my digital device packed in, with Sekhar as chauffer and guide, I leave on the two-hour, 160 km-drive from Chennai to Senji. We motor down for the most part on NH 45 before turning into well laid, tarred village roads, to Senji which lies on the Dindivanam-Tiruvannamalai route in Tamilnadu’s Villipuram District.

Once we turn off the highway and enter village roads, I warm to the picturesque pastoral environs with swathes of emerald fields of melons, banana and coconut. It is palpably the harvest season for the watermelons, one of the most refreshing fruits that helps us beat the torrid heat of Chennai. We spot farm hands pick the fruits and arrange them in piles every few kilometers along the route. At Sekhar’s insistence about farm fresh being best, we stop to buy a few juicy monsters from Pandurangan and Poonkodai.

Much to my discomfort, Sekhar makes a good bargain, speaking the language of the farmers, assuming their accent. They are only too happy to sell their produce to him and other passersby who make away gleefully paying a pittance for the healthy-looking giants. Sekhar’s logic is simple: they would definitely get more for their toils when they get rid of middlemen and sell their produce directly to people like us. And we also get them cheap. “Don’t battle with your conscience, madam. Both parties have profited,” he seals the matter with a flourish and we continue on our way to Ginghee.  

 

We are well into December but the Sun over Chennai continues to be harsh in phases even on any single day. As we continue to drive, we spot vendors selling tender coconut water along the way. We make another brief stop to refresh ourselves with this welcome drink. In good time we make it to our destination. As we approach Senji, the fort looms large and grand before us.

 The tales associated with Senji are as colourful as the men who ruled it. The most prominent name that crops up at the very mention of Senji, is that of Raja Desingu as the Tamils chose to call Raja Tej Singh, the Rajput prince who ruled the region in the 18^th century. At the young age of 22 he lost his life but not before creating history, battling the powerful army of Nawab Sadatulla Khan of Arcot. The young prince mounted on his favourite horse Neelaveni, and along with his friend and general Mohammad Khan, valiantly fought the Nawab’s huge army of 8000 horsemen and 10,000 sepoys with his own meager strength of 350 horses and 500 troopers! The legend of Desingu, who was as much known for his sagacity as for his bravery, forms an integral part of Tamil folklore and continues to be the subject of innumerable ballads, stories, operas, street and puppet shows.

Senji is also known by various names, each with its own meaning and etymology. “Genji” meaning “crab” in the Tulu language, seems one choice of name since the place was once ruled by the Vijayanagara kings. The city, some believe, owes its name to Senjiamman, one of seven virgin sisters and the presiding deity of the temple that stands on a hillock. Legend has it that the actual name of Gingee is 'Sengiri' meaning the "Red Hill" in Tamil that has got corrupted into Gingee. The myth associates Sengiri with Hanuman who procured the humungous Sanjeevi Hill with great ease and aplomb, to save Lakshman who lay grievously injured on the battlefield. The name has also been traced to Singavaram the neighbouring Vaishnavaite shrine, whose lord is considered the guardian deity of the place.  

Nestled on three hills – Rajagiri, Krishnagiri, and Chandrayandurgam also called Chakkalidurg, Gingee Fort is a gargantuan structure spread over 3 km and enclosed by a huge rampart 60 feet thick. It stands at a height of 800 feet and looks regal, even in ruins! The fort continues to be known for its rich secular architecture magnificent military history. Probably because of its impregnable nature, it escaped gross destruction brought on by marauding invaders and the ravages of time.  It was declared a National Monument in 1921 and since then enjoys the status as ASI-protected monument.

The capital of the Nayaka rulers, Senji was once a flourishing fortified city and one of the few big cities of peninsular India that was compared to Lisbon and Amsterdam by some Europeans who visited it in the late 16^th century. Father Pimenta, a Jesuit priest, supposedly gave the epitaph Troy of the East to Gingee Fort for the indomitable courage and valour displayed by its erstwhile rulers! It has been suggested that Gingee was modeled on Hampi, the capital of the Vijayanagar kings. This is a plausible view since the Nayakas once ruled on behalf of the Vijayanagar kings. Though much of Senji’s early history is shrouded in mystery, it is believed to have evolved as a fort city through seven phases, beginning in the 14^th century. Some historians date the fort city to the 12^th century while others refer to its inception in the early 16^th century, from which time period it flourished till its decline in 1761.

 No matter its origins, what is certain is that a string of dynasties held sway over Gingee. Stone sculptures and inscriptions, point to Gingee having been inhabited by Jain monks and Jainism prevailed there as far back as from the 2^nd century. From 600 to 900 A.D the Pallavas held sway, followed by the Cholas who reigned supreme at Gingee till 1100 A.D.  Pandyas, Cholas again and Hoysalas ruled Gingee till 1190 which then came under the suzerainty of the Yadava kings who remained dominant till 1330.  The Vijayanagar rulers were supreme for 150 years, beginning from the end of the 14^th century. Treason enabled the Maratha king Shivaji to take over in 1677, what he himself deemed “an impregnable fortress.” The Chhatrapathi met a similar fate a couple of decades later when the Mughuls seized Senji. Finally the French ruled the roost at Gingee and when they surrendered to the English in 1761 and abandoned the fort, Gingee died a natural death and even passed into temporary oblivion. Though the British warded off valiant efforts by Haider Ali to seize the fort, they themselves displayed apathy towards it.

 

We alight from our vehicle and begin our tour with a trek up Krishnagiri, the smallest of the three inselbergs, also known as the Englishman Mountain, for it was largely occupied by the British. The scorching sun slows down my progress as I trudge up the steep, uneven steps leading to the citadel atop Krishnagiri. Sekhar keeps my spirits up by relating several anecdotes relating to Gingee. I wonder at the veracity of his tall tales. Anyway, his narratives achieve their objective and I reach the summit with several halts in between, to catch my breath and guzzle down litres of water! 

 The view from the top is spectacular with the lush verdure of fields assuming an emerald sheen under the blazing sun. We climb a good many flight of steps to reach the different levels of the fort within which are located a pair of stone granaries, a pillared hall, two temples and the Audience Durbar, an edifice of brick and mortar.

While the fort has been built over several phases and decades by different rulers, Vaiyappa Nayaka, the General of Krishnadeva Raya, it is said, was the first great builder who mobilized 12000 stonecutters, 6000 carpenters, 6000 blacksmiths and 6000 navvies to erect the fort. The Nayakas who prevailed upon Gingee for almost a century, introduced profound changes in water management and also in the art of defense. They developed powerful artillery based on circular and semi-circular structures which they built especially around the solid towers of the fort. Though the area outside Gingee fortification is arid land with no cultivation ever having taken place, the region within Gingee itself had been arable, thanks to the intelligent water collection system established by the Nayakas. The barren hills surrounding Gingee, made of volcanic, jagged rocks, today attract adventurists, ever on the adrenaline rush. I beat the heat and enjoy exploring the environs atop Krishnagiri before I snake my way down with renewed gusto to continue my explorative trek, to Rajagiri Hills. 

 

There are several attractions at the foothills of Rajagiri, most of them temple structures dedicated to Lord Venugopalaswamy, Hanuman and Venkataramana.  Visiting these edifices allows us some respite before we again begin the laborious climb to the top to reach the citadel. The eight storey Kalyana Mahal or Marriage Hall is one of the most attractive ruins at ground level, built in characteristic architectural style of the Nayaka rulers of Vijayanagar.  Perhaps it has had a makeover in recent times, at least with fresh paint if not anything else. The hall has a square court in its centre with a pyramidal roof and high tower measuring 27m. 

 

Barracks, stables, granary, gymnasium, the elephant tank, an open air museum with several sculptures and ponds are other attractions here.  Close to one of the ponds is a platform believed to be the area where Raja Desingh’s funeral pyre was lit and where his young wife immolated herself, lending credence to the practice of sati.

 

                                                    Durga Temple Rajagiri    

The sun assumes a harsher tint and seems determined to thwart my efforts at exploration.  Do I see my resolve slackening with profuse perspiration threatening to dehydrate me! I am equally stubborn not to give in to the whimsical giant above. I get myself a couple of lemons from a vegetable seller closeby, squeeze half a fruit into my water bottle and keep sipping from it. Feeling sufficiently rehydrated, I begin the arduous ascent through 1100 odd steps to the top. Sekhar pepsme up with his incessant jabber, making sure I ignore my sagging spirit that does surface a couple of times as I wend my way up! My attempts to remain unperturbed are complicated further by a host of monkeys that cast vicious glances at my camera. Sekhar tells me they are harmless but he is not convincing enough as I see these creatures pounce on a fellow tourist’s handbag.  I do not want to risk my equipment or myself and promptly stash away the camera, returning it to the safety of its case. But not without being disappointed at not being able to click away and capture some of the most breathtaking views of the surrounds from Rajagiri top. 

On the top of the Rajagiri hill, within the main citadel are two granaries, a treasury, an audience hall, a huge cannon and the famous Ranganatha Temple. The granaries, I learn could store about three million kilos of rice which were useful during a siege. The Audience Hall is built in typical  Indo-Islamic style and has a domed roof supported by a series of graceful little pointed arches. The Vijayanagar-style Ranganatha Temple and the magazine building are other important constructions within the citadel.  The carvings on the temple walls remain pretty distinct despite the years and speak volumes of the glory it must have enjoyed in its heydays.  A huge iron cannon 4m long with a circumference of 2m adorns the watch tower and a local self-appointed guide tells us that this is similar to the one in Malik-i-Maidan at Bijapur. 

 

On our return to base, I visit the Sadat-ullah Khan Mosque, built by the Nawab to commemorate his victory over Desingh.  I feel a sense of achievement, having witnessed yet another site of historical significance, and of having learned something of an edifice that bespeaks the glory of Indian architecture. The fiery planet is planning to retire for the day as we begin our journey homewards.  The sky is a tranquil canvas in pastel shades of peach-orange. A flutter of breeze brings respite to my drenched being and fans me dry.  I merge into the evening ambience and greedily gulp down, yet again, sweet water from a couple of tender coconuts.

 

I look around the environs of Senji one last time. I stand enchanted by this living legend of a bygone era, replete with saga of chivalry and inevitable deceit and intrigues of court politics. As I leaf the pages of history for a recap, I hear the sounds of marching feet, of battle cries and echoes from the past that reveal tales of treachery and valour, of the characteristic bravery of the Rajput clan in the form of Desing. The place that witnessed blood and gore, sleeps in peace today, waking up occasionally to the footfalls of few history buffs and enthusiastic rock climbers.

 We are back on NH 45, cruising at a good speed till we reach the city limits of Chennai and are brought back to the present with blaring horns that shatter not just the ear drums but the chain of thoughts replaying Senji or Gingee and its rich history.