A temple in Mandvi: architectural revival or survival?

THE SWAMINARAYAN TEMPLE in Mandvi (Kutch, Gujarat) was constructed between 1991 and 1999 to replace a smaller Mandir on the site. Without going into the details of its very fine architectural and decorative features, this edifice was financed by local Kutchi followers of Swaminarayan. The Rajasthani Marble that forms the temple’s structure was hand carved by workmen, all of whom were followers of Swaminarayan. The stones that make up the building were carved in Rajasthan, transported to Mandvi where they were put together to make the edifice. This is similar to how the great temple in London’s Neasden was constructed.

Swaminarayan Mandir in Mandvi

The temple at Mandvi looks very similar to ancient Hindu temples I have seen elsewhere in India. As you look around it, you can see how the very old temples looked when they had just been built many centuries ago. Apart from the fact that Mandvi’s Swaminarayan Mandir looks recently built, a layman like myself, would find it difficult to age the building.

In 19th century England, many new churches were built in the gothic style. Like the newish temple at Mandvi, may of them faithfully reproduce the churches built in mediaeval times. The only thing that differentiates the 19th century Gothic Revival churches from their mediaeval predecessors is that they look too new to be as old as them.

In a book about Gothic Revival written by the art historian Kenneth Clark (1903-1983), he suggests that in England the use of gothic style in architecture never actually died out, and this suggested to me the Gothic Revival was really gothic survival. As far as I can gather, the same is the case for Hindu mandir architecture. If this is really the case, new temples such as Mandvi’s Swaminarayan Mandir is not the revival of the use of an ancient style of architecture, but an example of its survival. Put another way, the new temple at Mandvi is a reincarnation of its predecessor.

City of relief

THERE WAS ALWAYS a tin of pink coloured Isogel granules in the bathroom of my childhood home. One of my parents took a teaspoon of this daily to ensure regularity of bowel movements. An important ingredient in Isogel is psyllium husk, which is extracted from the plants Plantago ovata and Plantago psyllium. Basically, the husk is a polysaccharide gelling agent which, believe it or not, can be used to ameliorate both constipation and diarrhoea. It might also have other health promoting properties, including possible mitigation of Type 2 diabetes, and reducing cholesterol levels in the blood.

Recently, for reasons that need not be detailed here, we have taken to using psyllium husk. We did not buy Isogel, as my parents did, but a product from India called ‘Sat-Isabgol’, which my wife’s parents used in that country. This product is packed in a picturesque box that includes the company’s trademark: an old-fashioned telephone (B.G. Telephone Brand Regd.).  The box we bought recently proudly proclaims that the company is in its 80th year. According to the box, Sat-Isabgol is:

“… the upper coating of Plantago Ovata (Ispagul) which is highly purified by sieving and winnowing.”

Interesting as this is, what attracted me to the box was the fact that the Sat-Isabgol factory is in Sidhur, a place we visited in Gujarat (western India).

Sidhpur is far from being a major tourist attraction, but it is not far from the ruins of the magnificent Sun Temple at Modera, which does attract many sightseers. The main attraction in Sidhpur is a couple of streets lined with mansions decorated with ornate facades and other decorative features. These were built between the 1820s and the 1930s by a successful group of Muslim traders, members of the Dawoodi Bohra sect. The buildings incorporate many features of European neo-classical styles. Many of the houses bear their owners’ monograms in Latin lettering. The streets in this rural provincial town have a surprisingly un-Indian look about them and if it were not for cows and other animals roaming about them, it might be easy to imagine that one was not in India. While I was roaming around taking pictures, local people were extremely friendly to me. I got the impression that few Europeans visit Sidhpur. One exception was at the sad ruins of a Hindu temple, the Rudra Mahalaya, where the security guards were most unenthusiastic about seeing me with a camera. I was unable to photograph it. Constructed between 943 AD and 1140 AD, this temple is was in extremely poor condition when we saw it about two years ago. If it should ever be restored, it would make Sidhpur a fine excursion for tourists staying in Ahmedabad. I liked what I saw during our brief visit to Sidhpur, but was completely unaware that the town is home to the factory which has been producing something that has brought so much relief to people all over the world, since 1940.