Going Solo to the Chola Country
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A painting from Thanjavur museum |
My last trip to Tamil Nadu was a brief one to Madurai. I was really fascinated by the Meenakshi Amman temple and a visit to Keeladi excavation. The state of T.N. is filled with many many prehistoric sites and kingdoms. Unfortunately, this is not discussed much in the history books. This area was the capital of the mighty Cholas who had once possessed a large part of the South and had reached up to the Ganges in the north. More importantly, they had dominated the Bay of Bengal and expanded their trade to far off places in South-East Asia.
I have been living in Bangalore for the last 27 years. Though Kāveri flows 100 km to the south of Bangalore, we do get a small supply of drinking water which we refer to as “ Kāveri water”! The heartland of Cholas was the fertile land of Kāveri basin. References to the Early Cholas date back to 3rd century BCE. However, the golden time of the ambitious rulers of Chola dynasty was in the 9th to 12th century. My husband, Vinay had to visit Mumbai and I took the opportunity to plan a solo trip to Chola country.
While traveling alone through the heat and hum of Tamil Nadu, I found myself not just in search of temples, but of echoes — echoes of the Cholas’ power, devotion, and artistry. And everywhere I went, the Kāveri and her distributary Kollidam seemed to follow me — in sudden glimpses from the train window, in the sound of water near the ghats, in the lush green paddy fields they feed. The rivers felt like the silent keepers of Chola history.
Day 1&2 Trichy — Stone Older Than the Himalayas
I reached Trichy by Vande Bharat, an indigenously built train. I got an excellent lunch, tea and tiffin in the evening. The train was very clean and had large windows. I reached Trichy in less than 6 hours. Sitting next to me was a Tamil lady of about 50 who was going to Namakkal to see her son who was studying in medical college in Madurai. The caring, loving mom was going to meet her son at her maternal home in Namakkal. Her husband was placed in Mandya and son in Madurai. She used to take this train every two weeks to go and wash her son’s clothes. I saluted her love and care! I started the conversation by recalling Namakkal goddess who used to come in Ramanujam’s dream. Slowly, I mentioned to her about my passionate career as a Physics and Mathematics teacher. She told me with immense pride that her elder daughter was doing research in Physics at University of Texas at Austin. And when I told her about my two-year stint at Austin and what a lovely place it was, she was really thrilled to talk! All the while, she was speaking in Tamil and I was responding in English. We didn’t realise how time flew away and she had to get down.
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| Vande Bharat |
The train arrived at Tiruchirappalli (Trichy) at exactly 7.20 pm as per the schedule! I had no trouble getting an auto to Srirangam. River Kāveri breaks into two distributaries near Trichy. River Kollidam flows on the north and Kāveri on the south. Srirangam is like an island in the middle of Kāveri. At around 8 pm I was moving through the traffic towards my hotel River view.
The city was alive with noise, but my eyes went straight to the Rockfort, rising like an ancient sentinel. Geologists say this rock is 3.8 billion years old — a thought that makes even dynasties seem fleeting. The Pallavas began carving into it in the 7th century, the Nayaks crowned it with fortifications in the 16th, and somewhere in between, the Cholas and Pandyas fought over it.
As it was quite late to have dinner and I was quite filled by the meals on the train, I just got some fruits and settled in the room. Although the name of the hotel was “River view”, it was not exactly on the banks of the river which was a bit disappointing.
The next morning, I first went to the Kāveri river which was just a short walk from the hotel. After dipping my feet in it for a brief period, I got into an auto to the Big Temple. Sapta-Prakaram design where the sanctum, gopuram, services and living area are co-located in seven concentric enclosures. Rampart walls were added after medieval centuries that saw its invasion and destruction.
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| Kāveri from Srirangam |
The Periya Kovil (Big Temple) at Srirangam greeted me like a living museum. It has 21 gopurams, bustling markets tucked into pillared corridors, and the serene deity Ranganatha reclining, unchanged for over a millennium.
Considered the foremost among the 108 Divya Desams*(explained below), this temple is dedicated to Lord Vishnu reclining on the serpent Adisesha. Spread across seven concentric enclosures, it is often called the largest functioning temple complex in the world. The temple has been celebrated in the hymns of all the Alvars, making it a spiritual and cultural centre for centuries. Its towering gopurams and the sanctity of the reclining deity draw pilgrims from across India.
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| RanganathSwamy temple East gopuram |
An auto driver agreed to take me to the Kallanai dam that was around 25 km away. He turned out to be a good guide. When I boarded the auto, he started telling me about a “Divya Desam” temple that was further away from the dam. I was a bit worried about going away from the hustle-bustle into a smaller road alone with him. However, my worries melted away as we started moving ahead. The road became smooth with streams of Kāveri on the right and lush green paddy fields on the left. I was not aware of the concept of the Divya Desam temples. He was explaining to me in Tamil and I was trying to make sense of it while reading about it on my shaky phone as the auto hurtled. Divya Desams are the 108 sacred temples dedicated to Lord Vishnu, celebrated in the Tamil hymns of the Alvars—the saint-poets of the Sri Vaishnava tradition, composed between the 6th and 9th centuries CE. These temples are revered not just as places of worship, but as living embodiments of Tamil devotional heritage. He took me to Sri Appakudathan Temple at Koviladi which was a bit ahead of Kallanai dam. The majority of these temples 84 (out of the 108) are located in Tamil Nadu, with others scattered across Kerala, Andhra Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Gujarat, and even Nepal, and two sites are beyond the earthly realm. The temples outside of the earth are Thirupparkadal (Ksheerabdi Natham) i.e.Vishnu’s cosmic ocean of milk, where He reclines on Adisesha and Sri Vaikuntham (Paramapadam) – Vishnu’s supreme abode, the ultimate destination for Vaishnavite devotees. The temples had a large map of Vaishnav cosmogony painted on the wall.
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| Appakudathan temple |
Located on the banks of the Kāveri near Tiruchirappalli, this temple is dedicated to Lord Ranganatha in a seated posture. According to legend, the sage Markandeya offered sweet rice (appam) here, hence the name "Appakudathan." Though much smaller in scale than Srirangam, the temple’s serene riverside setting and its connection to Alvar hymns make it a cherished Divya Desam. Pilgrims see it as a place where devotion blends with simplicity and grace. The approach to the temple was lined by dilapidated, vacant houses and there was hardly any activity there.
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| Kallanai Dam |
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| Jambukeshwar temple |
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| View of Trichy- The visibility was not good. See if you can spot the Big temple |
Day 3 Chidambaram — Where the God Dances
The next morning. The same auto driver promptly arrived at 4.45 am. I reached Trichy station before time and had a cup of coffee. The train to Ahmedabad started at sharp 5.45 am. It was going to travel over 2000 km in 40 hours! I reached Chidambaram in a couple of hours. Now I was close enough to the Bay of Bengal to taste salt in the air.
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| Large lake and North Gopuram of Natarajar Temple |
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| Natarajar Temple East Gopuram |
My hotel was next to the South sannathi (gate) of the Big Temple or Thillai Natarajar temple. It was an old building and after seeing the room I felt like looking for another hotel. However, as I had already booked it, I would lose the money so I decided to take it. Solely, because of its proximity to the temple. It turned out to be a good bargain as the BSNL network was quite good and I could teach my entire two hour class to my Diploma students of ancient history of India!
The Nataraja Temple stood at the town’s heart, its gopurams etched with stories in stone. As a historian, I admired the precision of the Chola sculptors; as a music lover, I felt the rhythm in every figure carved mid-step. Here, Shiva is celebrated not only as the destroyer, but as Ananda Tandava Moorthy — the Cosmic Dancer. Inside, the sanctum reveals both the bronze image of Nataraja and an empty space behind a curtain, representing the formless essence of the divine.
I sat for a while during the evening puja, letting the bells, chants, and conch merge into a music that felt older than ragas themselves. Inside the temple, the experience felt almost otherworldly. I was dressed in a green saree, and a gentle drizzle had just begun outside, adding a cool freshness to the air. In a corner, a group of young girls in their Bharatanatyam costumes danced with grace to live music, their movements echoing the rhythm of the cosmic dance of Nataraja himself. At another corner, a gathering of young Dikshitar priests recited Carnatic kritis in unison, their voices carrying through the temple corridors. The hallways were so large that the two sounds were not disturbing each other. In that moment, the temple truly felt like what it symbolizes—Akash, the element of space—where music, dance, devotion, and the very atmosphere seemed to dissolve into one seamless presence. And at its heart lies the famous Chidambara Rahasyam, the “secret of Chidambaram,” where the Lord is worshipped not as a form, but as pure space—an eternal reminder of the unseen that holds everything together.
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| Some of 108 Karanas Bharata’s Nāṭyaśāstra |
One of the treasures of the Chidambaram Nataraja temple is the sculptural depiction of the 108 karanas—the key dance movements described in Bharata’s Nāṭyaśāstra. These dynamic postures, carved on the walls of the temple, are not just decorative; they represent the grammar of Indian classical dance, particularly Bharatanatyam. Each karana is shown with striking clarity, capturing the balance, rhythm, and energy of movement. For dancers and devotees alike, these carvings are a bridge between art and devotion—where the cosmic dance of Shiva is translated into the language of human movement. Chidambaram thus becomes not only a temple of worship, but also a living textbook of India’s dance heritage.
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| East Gopuram in the evning lights |
Day 4 Cab journey from Chidambaram toThanjavur via Gangaikondacholapuram, Darasuram
Before finally reaching Thanjavur on the third morning, the journey itself became part of the experience of the grandeur of the Cholas. I booked the cab through cab bazaar, who was in a bit of a hurry as he had another pick up at 12 PM. So I could stop at only two sites.
We stopped at Gangaikondacholapuram in the early hours of Monday. The grand capital was built by Rajendra Chola I after his victorious northern campaign in 1025 CE. The tongue twister name means "the city of the Chola who conquered the Ganga,"
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| Gangaikondacholapuram |
The temple he raised here is often called the “younger sibling” of the Brihadeeswarar temple, but it has its own distinctive grace. The sanctum’s towering vimana, the intricate carvings of deities, and the serene atmosphere speak of the Chola dynasty at its height, blending power with devotion. Unlike the bustle of Thanjavur, this site felt more contemplative, almost like a quiet echo of imperial pride. PM Narendra Modi had visited this temple just a couple of weeks ago. There was a festival to commemorate 1000 years of the maritime expedition of Rajendra Chola to south-east Asia. However, there were no bill boards, banners or streamers lying around. I reached there at 8 AM and apart from me there were only two other visitors in the entire complex. What struck me at both the Brihadeeswar temples is that the area around them was very clean and there were no hawkers and no eateries or crowds. Probably, due to the monsoon the crowd was lesser.
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| Gangaikondacholapuram |
On the way, I enjoyed a hearty South Indian breakfast of crisp vadas, steaming pongal, and filter coffee, the kind of meal that instantly sets the tone for a day of temple visits. Pongal was the safest breakfast as it was less spicy and easily digestible.
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| Airavateshwar temple |
Further along, I visited the Airavateshwar temple at Darasuram, built by Rajaraja Chola II. Recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site, it is smaller than the other Chola temples but exquisitely detailed, almost jewel-like in its stonework. The temple is dedicated to Shiva, worshipped here by Airavata, the celestial elephant. What caught my eye were the delicate friezes and the chariot-shaped design of the mandapa—every surface seemed alive with stories from mythology and daily life. Walking through, it felt less like entering a monument and more like stepping into a carved poem in stone.
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| Flooded entry way |
At Darasuram, the rains had left the stone pathway glistening with water, and I found myself carefully straddling through the puddles to enter the Airavateshwar temple—almost as if the temple demanded a small ritual of its own before letting me in. With the memory of Gangaikondacholapuram’s grandeur and Darasuram’s jewel-like elegance fresh in my mind, I continued my drive, eager to finally stand before the mighty Brihadeeswarar temple at Thanjavur.
Day 4,5,6 Thanjavur — The Cholas’ Crown Jewel
Thanjavur was the Chola capital at their zenith (9th–13th centuries), and here, grandeur reaches its peak. The Brihadiswara Temple, commissioned by Raja Raja Chola I in 1010 CE, rises 66 meters into the sky, built entirely of granite — some of it hauled from quarries over 50 kilometers away. As I walked its vast courtyard in the bright day light, I felt humbled by its geometry, scale, and sheer audacity. As it was too bright, I decided to visit again early next morning and at night. All the while, there were peacock calls and I even caught one in my camera standing on the gopuram.
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| Maratha gate of Brihadiswara (Look for a peacock) |
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| Closer view of the Vimana |
Standing tall in the heart of Thanjavur, the Brihadeeswara temple is the crowning jewel of the Chola dynasty. Built by Rajaraja Chola I in 1010 CE, it is dedicated to Lord Shiva and is one of the most magnificent examples of Dravidian architecture. The towering vimana, rising over 200 feet, is crowned with a massive granite capstone that still leaves historians and engineers marveling at the Cholas’ skill. Inside, the sanctum houses a colossal linga, radiating an austere power, while the long corridors and intricately carved walls are filled with sculptures and frescoes that narrate stories of devotion and empire.
Within the vast courtyard of the Brihadiswara temple at Thanjavur, the towering sanctum of Shiva is complemented by a constellation of smaller shrines that enrich the sacred landscape. To one side stands the shrine of Brihannayaki Amman (Parvati), while nearby are shrines to Dakshinamurti, Chandikesvara, Ganesha, and the majestic pavilion housing the colossal Nandi facing the main sanctum. Later additions by the Nayakas and Marathas introduced the elegant Subrahmanya shrine and a Navagraha temple, blending seamlessly with the original Chola vision. Together, these shrines and mandapas create a harmonious complex that reflects both the grandeur of Rajaraja Chola’s design and the layers of devotion added by later dynasties.
Visiting the temple at different times of day gave me two very distinct impressions. In the morning light, the sandstone glowed warmly, and the courtyards were filled with devotees and families starting their day with prayers, giving the vast complex a sense of openness and vitality. At night, under floodlights, the temple felt transformed — its massive walls casting long shadows, the vimana glowing golden against the dark sky, and the chants inside resonating with a deep, almost otherworldly calm. In those moments, Brihadeeswara was not just an architectural wonder, but a living temple, where devotion and history continue to meet in every sunrise and every lamp lit after dusk.
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| Splendor at night |
A local legend says that Rajaraja Chola conceived this great temple after a divine dream in which Lord Shiva himself commanded him to raise a monument unlike any seen before. True or not, the result is a temple that still feels like a dialogue between human devotion and divine grandeur—a place where history, faith, and architecture meet in perfect harmony.
Thanjavur’s story did not end with the Cholas. After their decline, the Nayakas took over in the 16th century, ruling as governors under the Vijayanagar empire and later as independent kings. They fortified the city, added new gopurams, and built palaces, including the grand Thanjavur Maratha Palace Complex. The Nayakas were patrons of art, music, and temple festivals, ensuring that Brihadeeswara remained at the heart of civic life.
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| Bronze Nataraja in the Art Gallery |
In 1674, the city passed to the Marathas, led by Venkoji (half-brother of Shivaji). The Marathas brought their own courtly traditions — they encouraged Carnatic music, preserved Sanskrit and Marathi literature, and commissioned Tanjore paintings, with their glowing gold leaf and jewel-like colours. Under Serfoji II in the early 19th century, Thanjavur even became a center for modern education and printing, while still honouring its temple heritage.
In Thanjavur, beyond the Brihadiswarar temple, the royal palace complex opened up a different side of the city’s history. Its weathered courtyards and tall watchtower spoke of the Nayakas and Marathas who ruled here after the Cholas. The Art Gallery, filled with Chola bronzes and stone sculptures, felt like a treasure chest of South India’s artistry, while the Saraswathi Mahal Library left me spellbound with its palm-leaf manuscripts and rare illustrated works. This library flourished under the patronage of the Maratha rulers: Sahaji II, who ruled in the late 17th century, was himself a scholar-king who composed plays and songs in Sanskrit and Marathi, blending courtly life with art. A century later, Serfoji II enriched the collection further, adding thousands of European books, scientific works, and paintings, turning the library into one of the greatest repositories of knowledge in Asia. Walking through these halls, I felt the palace was not just the seat of kings but a sanctuary where art, literature, and learning continue to live on.
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| Serfoji II |
Inside the palace complex lies the Thanjavur Art Gallery and Museum, a remarkable collection that brings together the city’s artistic heritage. The museum houses bronze icons from the Chola period—each one radiating spiritual intensity—as well as larger-than-life stone sculptures, weaponry, and palace artifacts. One of its highlights is the collection of Chola bronzes of Nataraja, Vishnu, and Devi, which embody the grace and mastery of South Indian metal casting. For a traveller, the museum offers not just history, but a vivid glimpse of how faith, art, and royal patronage intertwined in Thanjavur.
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| Thanjavur Museum |
In the city, I came across another museum and library space also associated with Saraswathi Mahal. While smaller than the grand library in the palace, this museum displayed rare manuscripts, painted folios, and old maps that offered a quieter, more intimate glimpse into Thanjavur’s scholarly traditions. What struck me here was the focus on preservation—glass cases protecting fragile palm-leaf manuscripts and delicate illustrated texts, a reminder that beyond the grandeur of temples and palaces, Thanjavur’s true legacy is its careful guardianship of knowledge. Together, these twin repositories of learning—the main Saraswathi Mahal Library and its companion museum—show how deeply the city has valued books, memory, and art through the centuries. I got some books written by Sahaji II. One is containing some erotic songs based on Carnatic ragas and the other one is short play staging a multilingual dialogue (or fight) between Ganga and Kāveri.
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| Thagaraja samadhi |
On my final morning in Thanjavur, I went again to the big temple and observed the sculptures once again. After breakfast, I hired an auto to visit Thyagaraja samadhi on the banks of Kāveri. Here the river was quieter, slower, reflecting temple towers in the still water. Sri Thyagaraja (1767–1847), one of the greatest composers of Carnatic music, lived in Thiruvaiyaru near Thanjavur. A devout worshipper of Lord Rama, he composed hundreds of soulful kritis in Telugu, weaving together music and bhakti as a path to liberation. Choosing a life of simplicity over royal patronage, Thyagaraja became a musical saint whose legacy continues through the annual Thyagaraja Aradhana at his samadhi, where musicians gather to sing his timeless Pancharatna Kritis on the banks of the Cauvery. This place now has a temple but hardly any details of Thyagaraja's life or music. I got a beautiful view of Kāveri from that spot.
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| Kāveri Kāveri mama prasīda! |
Before reaching Thanjavur, I stopped at two Divya Desam temples tucked along the Kāveri’s banks. One was Divya Desam Sri Neelamega Perumal Temple which was a beautiful small temple and Manikundra temple was under renovation.
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| Grand Anicutt |
Midas touch and search for food
At Chidambaram, there were a lot of jewellery shops that sold chunky gold-plated ornaments. However, there are hardly any shops for clothing or sarees. Surprising that there were no shops for Bharatanatyam accessories. In contrast with the "covering jewellery" there in Thanjavur, there were hundreds of pure gold shops. During the first afternoon, while I was walking towards the palace and entered some small streets which were full of goldsmiths working in small shops but I couldn't find a single hotel that was serving lunch! I entered the palace complex and the attendants of art galleries and library went for lunch. They all had their packed lunches. It felt as if everything was turned into gold as in the story of King Midas. I must have walked at least a kilometre before finding a very small restaurant where I got some tamarind rice and curd rice. None of the hotels where I was staying had kitchens or room service in spite of paying around ₹2000 per night. Finally, on the first evening I found some decent restaurant in the vicinity of the bus stand.
The same story repeated while returning by train. I reached the train station early enough but apart from some bonds, there was nothing I could pack for the journey at the station. Unlike Vande Bharat, this train did not have any food service. I had had a heavy lunch and so I could manage with just a bottle of flavoured milk on the Trichy platform when the engine was being changed.
Call of Kāveri and Solo journey in the Chola Country
As I ended my journey at Thanjavur, I realized that these temples and palaces are not just monuments of stone, but living spaces where faith, art, music, and daily life continue to mingle. From the cosmic dance of Chidambaram to the towering majesty of Brihadeeswara, from the scholarly quiet of the libraries to the echoes of kings and dancers in the palace halls, each stop carried a sense of timelessness. What struck me most was how seamlessly devotion and creativity have shaped this land — every prayer a rhythm, every carving a story, every stone a memory. Traveling here was not only about visiting places, but about immersing myself in a culture that still breathes through its temples, its people, and its stories. This solo journey also gave me confidence; and while there were moments of loneliness, they were gently balanced by meditation on the banks of the Kāveri, singing to her flow, and simply watching the magnificent carvings that seemed to whisper their own songs of the past. During the journey one my teachers Dr. Bhagrashree Bavare ( K.J. Somaiya Institute of Dharma Studies) whom I would like to thank from the bottom of my heart who asked me to look for a song of river Kāveri. I looked up on the internet and actually found Kāveri Aṣṭakam. I was humming it all along the journey and here it is in my voice. Later, in Thanjavur I actually found a book in two scripts (Devnagari and Tamil) titled "Kāverir tuti"! Here is one of the verses that I liked particulary-
देवालयापूरितदिव्यतीरे
devālayapūritadivyatīre
समस्तलोकोत्तमतीर्थमूर्धे
samastalokottamtīrthamūrdhe
काश्मीरभूःकल्पितचोलदेशे
kāśmīrabhukalpitacoladeśe
कावेरि कावेरि मम प्रसीद
Kāveri Kāveri mama prasīda
Your divine banks are filled with temples. You hold the highest of holy places.
You transform your banks into Kashmir desh itself. O divine Kāveri, kindly grace me!
Note: The complete song can be heard here.(The Sanskrit Channel:The Spiritual Possibilities of River Kaveri- Kaveri Ashtakam)
