Borobudur

"Borobudur is a picture book in stone. Here outside India for a brief moment Indian art reached its climax and Indian religion sought to popularise amidst simple peasants the amazing philosophy by a cosmo-pantheistic realism, today best studied in Japan. Here then was the swan song of Indian Buddhist artists, or, as they prefer to say, the glorious efflorescence under tropical skies of the venerable tree about to die. It is above all the spirit of the supreme repose of serene calmness pervading it, in which the Buddhist religious ideal finds so eloquent an expression."

–Saunders: A Pageant of Asia.

In the heart of Eastern Java surrounded on all sides by high imposing mountain peaks, Merapi, Minorch, Soembing and Sindoro, over a little eminence encircled in the loving embrace of two streams, lie the world famous ruins of Borobudur. In recent years Borobudur has attracted the attention of the cultured all over the world, and has risen to a position of such prominence, that every month about two hundred visitors on an average come to see it from different parts of the world. What then is its significance? What is Borobudur?

For the purpose of elucidation it is better that we should acquaint ourselves with some rudimentary principles of Buddhistic architecture. From the Barhut rail depicting the wheel, the eightfold path in a child-like form, to the Sanchi dagoba with its beautiful fresco reliefs and later on reaching a climax in the exposition of Borobudur, the Buddhistic Ideal, the Dhamma, follows a natural line of development in its several transitory phases. No doubt there is a vein of Hellenistic influence in the art of Sanchi but at Borobudur there is none. Says Mr. C. Jinarajadasa, "Architecture reveals in a subtle way what a nation is thinking."

If we should apply this maxim to Boroloudur, we can conclude with certainty that the monument was built during a period when there was a great influx of religious ideas of Mahayana Buddhism from Pala Bengal and that the Sri Vijaya kings who ruled over the destinies of Java were jealous patrons of Mahayana Buddhism. This was the golden age of Buddhistic art and the classical period of Javanese literature, when monumental works like the ‘Nagarakratagama,’ ‘Pararaton,’ ‘Arjuna,’ ‘Vivaha,’ and ‘Bharata Yuddha’ were written in ‘Kavi’ language by Jassadhipura and others. On all sides there was intense activity, an effort to turn out the best in every sphere of human endeavour. All over the island rose viharas innumerable, in which were enshrined gods and goddesses of the Buddhistic pantheon. The land literally breathed in religion and lived in religion. It was about this time that the famous Indian universities of Magadha and Nalanda, which were live centres of Indian culture, flourished. Scholars well versed in ancient lore braved the perils of the deep to carry the message of ‘Dhamma’ to Java. Thus under kind royal patronage grew this monument nurtured by the royal exchequer and blossomed forth into a beautiful flower, only to be buried again under the debris of volcanic eruptions. It lay unheard and unsung for centuries in oblivion’s curse till the benevolent Dutch Government, which has shown greater sympathy and concern towards the preservation of the ancient culture of their Eastern possessions than any of their modern compeers, bestowed her attention on it, cleared the debris and brought forth to the mystified gaze of the world ‘a gem of purest ray serene,’ a thing of beauty, an epic in stone, a piece of frozen music, a living truth which still breathes out the message of the Buddha, the Eternal One, for all who fain would know the way of deliverance from this earthly wheel of woe and misery into the glorious and blissful state of Nirvana.

Borobudur is neither a temple nor a mosque in the Indian sense, which one can enter for the purpose of worship. It is not even a vihara of the type we find at Ajanta, and that accounts for its strangeness. It has been built like a stone capping over the crest of an eminence with square terraces and circular enclosures, with a big inverted bell-like cupola at the top. One can walk along these terraces or circumambulate, or can reach the topmost cupora by a flight of steps which are located on all the four sides. But one can remain only on the outside with the blue sky above and beautiful scenery all around. You cannot enter into Borobudur; it has simply no inside.

There is another point to which I would invite the attention of the reader. It is that Borobudur is not a dead relic of a bygone age. It is a living truth, it breathes life. It has a message for all men and for all times. Perhaps its message is more necessary today than at any time, when the whole world is steeped in misery and hatred, when sabre-rattling is incessant–the message of Gautama Buddha, the message of Dhamma.

You go to an Indian temple, enter the sanctum sanctorum, pray to the divine enshrined, admire the beautiful carvings, and come out elated. But the building as such has no lesson to give you in your progress towards spiritual realisation. But Borobudur is an appliance by means of which a Sadhaka may attain ‘Nibbana.’ Let me make myself clear.

All religious teachers have spoken and given their message in symbols. The Barhut rail and the Sanchi stupa are simbols. The wheel of Buddha is a symbol. Buddhistic architecture generally tries to convey its message in symbolical expressions. It is a popular belief that when Lord Buddha was asked by one of his chelas to suggest some design for building a monument, he seems to have just folded his square upper cloth and placed on it his begging bowl inverted. The begging bowl and the square piece of cloth are two important things for a Bhikku. It is all the possessions in the world he has and can call his own. It is his last link of material bondage. Perhaps to keep this ideal in mind, Buddha emphasised about this particular type of design which should form the basis for all the future monuments. The Stupa at Sanchi and a dagoba are symbols representing the begging bowl and the square piece of cloth; only they have been built on a colossal scale. Borobudur is the finishing touch, the perfect blend of this ideal and the message of ‘Dhamma.’ The square and the circle are further considered to represent things material and things spiritual respectively in all religious beliefs, darkness and light, matter and spirit, the square of concrete things and the circle of Cosmos, etc.

In Borobudur we find this idea developed very beautifully. The square terraces and the galleries are at the bottom while the circular enclosures are located above it. The construction of these terraces and enclosures is also based on the symbolism of numbers. Odd numbers and even numbers relate to things spiritual and material and the divine number 10 is generally considered as the unit of energy or Cosmos, so we find at Borobudur the base consisting of 2 square terraces and 4 galleries and the top with 3 circular enclosures with a central dagoba. (2 + 4 + 3 -1-1 = 10.) The foot galleries represent scenes of earth-life, relating to Kamaloka, the wheel of Samsara, the irrevocable law of cause and effect. There is one interesting scene. Women are making turtle-soup, next to it is the wheel of Karma and next to it is a picture wherein the cooks are being cooked in their turn.

The Bhikku after his morning ablutions is expected to go round these enclosures 108 times a day, which the Buddhists call a ‘Pradakshanapatha,’ contemplating on the several aspects of the life of Lord Buddha. Gradually the aspirant rises from one stage of spiritual evolution to another, from the lowest rung of the terrace to the topmost cupola, becoming in turn a ‘Sotapanna,’ ‘Sakadagami,’ ‘Anagami,’ ‘Arhat,’ ‘Aseka,’ ‘Chohan,’ ‘Bodhisattva,’ and finally a ‘Buddha.’

The four galleries are enormous affairs elaborately carved, depicting pictures of the life of Lord Buddha from the several Jataka stories and from Lalitavistara. The workmanship is exquisite. The upper circular terraces have raised walls which obstruct one’s view of the surrounding scenery. Sedately seated Buddhas gaze at you unconcerned, which makes the flesh creep. There are about 505 such Dhyani Buddhas. During this stage of spirituality corresponding to ‘arupaloka’ the aspirant is expected to concentrate all his attention on the Supreme Being, and, that the mundane things of the world may not distract his attention, the enclosures have raised walls. There is nothing interesting to a visitor, so one ascends to the topmost cupola from where one can have a beautiful view of the surrounding country. When the Bhikku reaches this final stage he is considered to have become a Buddha, when nothing can distract his attention. He returns to the foot below, mixes with his fellow beings, teaches the layman the eightfold path, and becomes in turn a vehicle of that law of Dhamma.

But one singular feature deserves special mention. The cupola has no entrance. Adventurers, who believed that it contained the treasures of the Srivijaya kings, broke open the cupola and found to their bitter dismay a granite block with ill-defined features of a god. It remained a riddle to many. Some savants wondered as to why such master architects who built a wonderful monument should crown their efforts with a cupola and enclose in it a crude image of Buddha. Here then was the crux of the problem. Only recently was it realised by savants that after the merging of the individual self with the divine energy, he has no form or shape which he can call his own. He is with form and without it. He is inside as well as outside. To symbolically express this idea the great master builders hid this figure of Buddha in the cupola, (Vide Gita, Chap. IX, Stz. 4 & 5.)

There they sit, the Dhyani Buddhas, in their niches in deep contemplation while the evening sun sheds his mellow rays on the monument giving it a touch of divinity. What do they mean by their silence? What do they mean by their gestures of protection and of gift-making? What are they but the reflected images of the great Monk of Kapilavastu? What is this serene and lovely monument but the embodiment of his spirit?

As in a beautiful dream, the last line of the cupola dimly faded into the fast approaching darkness, and my heart became heavy. The vision of a Borobudur in her regal splendour, with monks clad in yellow robes making their ‘Pradakshana Patha, passed before my mind’s eye. I felt small tin my unworthiness, and when I thought of the general national degeneration, I felt very sad indeed. Only the purr of the engine reminded me of my return journey to Jogjakrata.¹

"Om mani padme hum."

1 Borobudur is 50 miles from Jogjakrata, the seat of a Sultanate in Eastern Java. Buses ply between Jogja and Borobudur. The distance is covered in less than two hours. The ruins are located near the village of Borobudur. Hotels are cheap and both vegetarian and non-vegetarian meals are served. The Travelers Official Information Bureau, 15. Rajasyjik, Batatia Centrum, Batavia, Java. a non-profit organisation of the Dutch Government, will gladly furnish necessary information to intending visitors.