The Sun Temple

On a horse-drawn carriage tour of the countryside surrounding Ujjain, we happened upon a temple complex that at first glance could only be described as paradise. The temple itself, brightly illuminated by the late-afternoon sun, rose up upon a hill on the center of an island. Beneath the temple situated in the river itself was the second and more beautiful half of the complex: a series of 52 interconnected pools with small temples scattered on islands among them.
Eager to explore this beautiful site, we climbed out of the horse carts and mounted the steps to the temple. We circled the building, admiring the arches and pillars and searching for the entrance. Eventually we found it, ducked inside, and explored the abandoned stone building, which was lit only by sunlight slanting through the boarded-up windows. We then left the building and descended onto the walkways among the pools and began to explore, enjoying the beauty of the temples reflected in the water.
Unfortunately, the more we walked among the pools, the more it became evident that the site was not as pure and beautiful as it had appeared to be from above. The water in most of the pools was stagnant and filled with garbage. The slots between the pools, in which water should have been coursing in intricate patterns designed to aid in meditation, were dry, turned defective by the mud, plastic, and abandoned clothes that littered the site. The grotto-like pools underneath the arcades were worst of all, as they had become so choked with refuse that in some places there was no water at all.
My immediate reaction at the state of the pools was anger. “How could such an important historical site have been allowed to fall into such a state? Why didn’t someone do something about it?” The more I thought about these things the more furious at the negligence of the Indian government I become and the more I began to hope that someone would rehabilitate the site and return it to its former glory.
Later that day, I was struck by a new and different emotion. I had to admit that despite the disgusting amounts of trash, there was an undeniable beauty in the decrepitude of the temple complex. Additionally, the abandonment of the sun temple complex had bestowed upon it a sense of calm – it was free of all beggars, touts, and annoying tourists – that is rarely found in India.
The truth is, however, that this second emotion is incorrect and selfish. It is selfish because though the temple may still be beautiful now, the state in which is in ensures that it will not be beautiful for future generations. The fact that a place is beautiful while it is slowly decaying does not change the fact that is decaying. Thus, to let the status quo continue is to doom the temple to destruction and historical obscurity. At the same time, the burst of reckless anger that I felt towards the Indian government is not productive either, simply because the government has a plethora of much more pressing issues to deal with. Still, it is important to note that all over India important historical locations are disappearing (hint: there may be another yak on this topic) and that sooner or later, someone is going to have to do something about it.