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Old Tuesday, March 14, 2006
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Default Takht-e-Bahi

Takht-e-Bahi
Saima Khan

A journey into the past..

Upon entering the tiny village of Takht-e-Bahi one of the first sights that will be painted on the visitors’ memory are the long strings of miniature shops. You will observe large black woks with huge ear-ringed sides, hissing and spitting whilst a red-faced bearded man fries ‘chappal’ kebabs. Smoke and a very fine veil of oil droplets surrounds the inferno and this scene is iterated along the main road. Takht-e-Bahi is famed for the quality of the kebabs available here.

As you pass through the town center, you will discover a whole array of colorful shops selling everything from television antennas, clay plant holders (reverberating Greek design) and shockingly colorful rubber slippers to glittering strings of plastic flowers not to mention necklaces made by appending rupee notes together that are used to “grace” the bridegroom at local weddings. I spotted one such necklace that had at its center a wall clock! To be able to carry the weight of that and still smile (as one invariably must at ones own wedding) would require a vast reserve of strength and patience I reflected!

Our group of students moved on as we were guided to take a small side road that led us into the quieter and lime-colored belly of the village. The long dusty path was surrounded by mud huts – their pale yellow bodies glinting in the sun and contrasting with the emerald background.

Minute moonfaced children clothed in bright colors came out to watch; the elder siblings themselves no bigger than dolls holding the little ones in their arms – a veritable modern day Lilliput! Some of them decided to chase the car and when their stamina ran out they’d cheer and wave us on to our destination. Their innocent greetings were endlessly reflected in the windows of the vehicle; they touched the soul and gave that quiet place a warm hue.

All this time the path was becoming more sharply inclined. When the van finally halted we walked out to meet the blazing sun and a huge, glistening blue-bordered board that described the archaeological site of Takht-e-Bahi. This is a complex that houses a Buddhist monastery and stupas built in the 1st century AD and abandoned in the 6th/7th century AD The actual building is situated on the top of a hill.

On the surrounding hills there are small structures, some having two or more stories; the walls have caved in. They are half clothed in vegetation and flash a decimated toothed grin at the visitor; defiantly commemorating the glory that they once witnessed. These were probably residences for the influential in the community.

The complex is accessed by climbing a number of twisting steps that have been sliced into the face of the mountain. The gate is enclosed on both sides by two rooms that were built for guards. Each room had a niche in the wall to hold an oil lamp in. From this height you hear nothing but the sound of silence, and the feeling of isolation is pronounced. This tranquility persuades the mind to wander and the first jigsaw puzzle pieces of a scene from the past begin to appear in the minds eye. There was once a 30 foot tall magnificent statue of the Buddha covered in gold leaf at the entrance of the complex. An image flashes across the canvas of my perception.

The complex has been built in four distinct stages of development the first of which comprised the building of the main stupa in the central courtyard. A stupa is a monument that converses with the world of the dead and the main stupa in Takht-e-Bahi is significant – it is one of eight stupas believed to hold the ashes of the Buddha himself.

As time went by devotees built votive stupas around the main stupa. These contained no religious relics but were symbols of the devoutness of the travelers who passed that way. Facing the courtyards that contain the stupas are rows of alcoves that held statues of the Buddha, most of which are now housed in Peshawar Museum. Only a few of these statues remain in their original positions allowing one a rudimentary glimpse into the world that was.

Takht-e-Bahi gained in stature as a Buddhist place of worship. The fact that it was isolated from the mainstream of society made this a perfect setting for meditation.

Thus in the next stage of development cells were built for acolytes. These are situated on the right of the courtyard that contains the stupas. The cells are contained in a two-storey structure. Each cell contains two recesses in the walls – one would have been used to light the cell with an oil lamp and the other would have held the acolytes belongings.

The cells lead to an open courtyard on one side of which is a small kitchen and dining area. There was a well-organized system of supplying water to the inhabitants of the complex. In one corner of the complex is a dried up well.

The final stage of development exhibited in the complex comprises the building of the meditation cells. These, for me, were the most fascinating facet of my visit to this ancient Buddhist relic.

The meditation cells are accessed by walking down two flights of steps. As one descends into the dark recess which is guarded by an overgrowth of vegetation that partially hides the arched gateway to the underground cells a dark curtain of mystery attaches itself to the mind – it is as though you are entering a different time zone.

There is a dark and clingy mustiness inside the hall that leads to the six subterranean cells. The smell of death seems to pervade the three cells on the left – it seems as though the sun has never shone in these vaults; a living embodiment of the grave. I can almost hear the chanting voices of the monks as they recite their sutras inside these alcoves. I cannot bear to stand for more than a few minutes at the entrance of the cells – my soul shrinks from the absoluteness of the air.

In striking contrast are the three cells on the right which face the rising sun The arched entrances of these cells throw arched shadows on the opposite wall which contains the three rectangular mouthed death-like chambers. It is a mystical juxtaposition; the golden arch inside which is held a deep black velvet rectangle; one that leads to a cloister as private and silent as a spiritual grave and the other to an alcove filled with the radiance of enlightenment. Although one feels more secure in the three cells that allow sunlight in, it is the night black cells that pull your attention towards them.

When you walk out of the lit cells you enter an open sky courtyard. This is where the young acolytes and Superiors would have assembled before dawn. In the stark cold the acolytes would have awoken which is known as the ‘opening of the rules’. After this they would have performed the morning tasks of reciting the sutras. This would have been known as the ‘triple return’ and the process would have been repeated thrice. Then the younger acolytes must have swept and mopped the floors. Next they would have rushed through the ‘gruel session’ whilst one of the priests would recite the special gruel-time sutra. After this each individual would carry on with his appointed tasks. In the early evening the ‘medicine’ or dinner would be served followed perhaps by a lecture by the resident Superior and bathing. The last ritual would be the ‘opening of the pillows’ and all the residents of the Takht-e-Bahi would sleep.

It is said that the essence of Buddhism is the absence of all features, and that the real power to see consists in the knowledge that ones heart possesses neither face nor feature. Perhaps this is best reflected in the fact that the buildings in Takht-e-Bahi bear little sign of ornamentation- there is little sense of vibrant color- in fact the sand colored statues and walls blend in perfect harmony. At the same time the eye is not bored with what lies before it. The balance of unity and diversity is maintained here to perfection.

I could see rows of monks with egg shaped smooth heads framed by their vermilion robes humming in deep unison within the pale walls of these buildings. The shaved heads of acolytes; a dangerous idea it seemed to me – to have your thoughts separated from the outer world only by an individual single, thin membrane. To the monks sitting in meditation in their claustrophobic cells the tension of walking into the open courtyards must have been a pleasant sensation.

I observed a few archeological finds that had been unceremoniously thrown into a caged corner of the complex. There was a headless torso of a statue of the Buddha and I imagined the way that acolytes would have respectfully removed their sandals, knelt and folded their hands in prayer in front of this very same statue. The larger number of the objects in the cage were grinding stones – a reflection of the peaceful life lived by the inhabitants of Takht-e-Bahi.

We sat under a huge flourishing tree in the courtyard and exchanged view and opinions on what we saw around us. I could not help but reflect on the little I knew on the ways of Buddhism. I remembered a Zen problem about which I had read:

In the Tang period there was a priest named after a mountain – Nansen. One day when all the monks had gone out to cut the grass, a little kitten appeared in the peaceful mountain monastery. Everyone was curious about this creature; they chased it and finally managed to catch it. There now arose a dispute between the East and West Halls as to who would keep the kitten as a pet.

Father Nansen was watching all this; he caught the kitten by the scruff of the neck and putting his sickle to it said:
‘If any of you can say a word, this kitten shall be saved: if you cannot it shall be killed.’ No one was able to answer and so Father Nansen killed the kitten and threw it away.

In the evening the chief disciple Joshu returned and when he was asked by Father Nansen for his opinion regarding the events of the day, he placed his shoes upon his head and left the room. At this, Father Nansen lamented and said ‘If only you had been here today, the kittens life could have been saved’.

This would have been the sort of problem that would have been laid in front of the acolytes open to their interpretation. The general interpretation of this would have been as follows:

The reason that Father Nansen had killed the kitten was that he had cut away the illusion of the self and had eradicated all irrelevant thoughts from his mind. Putting his insensibility to practice he had cut off the kittens head and thus cut off all contradiction and opposition between self and others. This was the Murdering Sword, whereas Joshus action was called the Life-Giving Sword.
By placing filthy and despised objects upon his head he had given a practical example of the way of the Bodhisattva.

We spoke of the saying:
‘When ye meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha! When ye meet your ancestor, kill your ancestor! When ye meet a disciple of Buddha, kill the disciple! When ye meet your father and mother, kill your father and mother! When ye meet your kin, kill your kin! Only thus will ye attain deliverance. Only thus will ye escape the trammels of material things and be free.”

The inhabitants of the Takht-e-Bahi would have been peaceful priests and acolytes who wished to find karma. Standing at a vantage point which would probably have been frequented by the Superior one can see the whole complex and the question of why this place now lies in a deep slumber is invariably raised in ones mind. This ancient seat of learning, a crystallized drop of civilization in the quiet green mountains, a peaceful tranquil world of meditation –why was this so cleanly abandoned?

There are many other remnants of Buddhist influence in the land of the Indus, particularly in the Northern areas. Today if we speak of our cultural past in an international circle we are recognized more by the period when the Indus civilization flourished and the Gandhara period of our cultural history than by the advent of the Islamic era. This is most truly ours and streaks of this ancient civilization may still be observed in our psyche today Ours is a unique crossroads between cultures that took root here and those that travelled to this land from abroad.

The Buddhist era has left an indelible mark upon the culture that we define as ‘Pakistani’. The religious shrine of the saint Bari Imam in Rawalpindi has been built upon a Buddhist stupa. An ancient tree that grows in the courtyard of the shrine was named after the Buddhist ‘goddess’ Hareetee – the goddess of fertility- and to this day women tie their ‘paranday’ to the branches of this tree in the hope of conceiving children.

Although the Buddhist civilization flourished for a relatively short time in Pakistan, it still influences the local cultures of the areas where it lived. It is important that we not forget these threads that have helped shape our culture today. A sad fact of history though that the peace loving people who so shaped our culture have left without a trace. Takht-e-Bahi still retains its air of being frozen in time - a perfect place to reflect upon the past and to delve into the caves of ones soul. A learning experience indeed.
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