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On the Wheel/AJANTA: A Guest Post by Debasis Roy - 2
On the Wheel/AJANTA – Part 2 – by Debasis Roy
If you missed the beginning of Debasis's journey through the monolithic marvels of Ellora, you can read it here 👉. [Part 1 ]
AJANTA, Auragabad, Maharashtra
If Ellora stands as a grand confluence of Buddhism, Hinduism and Jainism chiselled into volcanic rock, Ajanta unfolds like a silent monastic hymn devoted almost entirely to the Buddha. In this secluded sanctuary, stone, colour and contemplation merge into one timeless narrative. Hidden within a dramatic horseshoe-shaped gorge carved by the unassuming yet poetic Waghora (Baghora) River, the Ajanta caves rise nearly 250 feet above the ravine, forming one of the most luminous artistic legacies of ancient India.
The story of Ajanta spans nearly eight centuries. The earliest caves, dating to the 2nd–1st centuries BCE, belong to the Hinayana phase of Buddhism, flourishing under the Satavahana rulers. These early excavations — simple chaityas (prayer halls) and viharas (monastic dwellings) — reflected an austere spiritual ethos, with symbolic representations of the Buddha rather than anthropomorphic forms. A long hiatus followed until the 5th–6th centuries CE, when Ajanta witnessed a remarkable renaissance under the Vakataka dynasty, contemporaries and cultural allies of the Guptas. This later phase embraced the Mahayana tradition, introducing elaborate sculptures, celestial Bodhisattvas and some of the most exquisite mural paintings ever created in the ancient world — vivid depictions of Jataka tales, courtly life, compassion and transcendence.
For centuries, the caves lay abandoned and forgotten, swallowed by jungle and silence, until 1819, when a British cavalry officer, John Smith, stumbled upon Cave 10 during a tiger hunt — an accidental rediscovery that reopened a forgotten chapter of world heritage. Out of roughly 30 rock-cut caves, combining monasteries and prayer halls, about sixteen once contained mural paintings, though time, moisture and human neglect have erased many beyond recovery. Among the surviving masterpieces, Caves 1, 2, 16, 17 and 19 still whisper stories through faded yet enchanting colours. The exquisitely ornamented Cave 1 houses the iconic mural of Bodhisattva Padmapani, his compassionate gaze embodying serenity itself. Cave 2 preserves evocative scenes, including the birth of Buddha at Lumbini. Caves 17, 19, 24 and 26 stand out for sculptural brilliance, with Cave 26 presenting a majestic reclining Buddha – the Mahaparinirvana – encircled by elaborate carvings narrating episodes from the Jataka lore. Several caves beyond certain points remain closed to visitors for preservation. The artists of Ajanta worked with remarkable ingenuity. The rough basalt surface was first layered with a base mixture of earth, sand, lime fibres, paddy husk and vegetal matter. A second coat of mud blended with rock powder refined the plane, and finally, a delicate limewash formed the canvas upon which natural pigments – bound with organic glue – brought stories to life. Even in their faded state, the paintings reveal extraordinary mastery of line, expression, perspective and emotional depth. Ajanta today welcomes visitors from 9:00 am to 5:30 pm.
I left Aurangabad early in the morning, travelling through stretches of road bordered by colourful boulevards and wild pink blossoms nodding gently in the breeze – an unexpectedly lyrical prelude to the caves. Near the entrance, a couple of individuals halted my vehicle to collect an entry charge of Rs 15 per head, though it remained unclear whether the collection was official. After purchasing tickets, I began my exploration at Cave 1, widely considered the crown jewel of Ajanta’s murals. Official guides charge around Rs 1800, while plaques at each cave provide basic descriptions. Yet, without familiarity with Jataka narratives, many stories remain cryptic – their outlines visible but their moral universe elusive. Much of the art has suffered defacement, rendering several scenes difficult to decipher. Carrying a small torch or spotlight proves helpful as the lighting within many caves remains subdued. Security personnel stationed at cave entrances occasionally offer informal explanations if encouraged politely. My own knowledge of Jataka tales being very limited, I, being only a traveller with curious eyes, chose instead to immerse and absorb myself in the astonishing dedication and artistic genius of those anonymous artists who devoted their lives with monk-like patience and surrendered their lives, breath by breath, to create these timeless masterpieces, these immortal visions on stone that later became living classrooms for generations of painters, and tried to grasp their quiet brilliance. Their works are not merely paintings; they are living lessons.
The legendary Nandalal Bose brought his pupils here, asking them to listen to the silence of Ajanta’s walls and learn directly from the silent yet eloquent brushstrokes of antiquity, from colours that refuse to fade with time. My mind drifted back nearly thirty-five years to my visit to the Bagh Caves in Madhya Pradesh, where paintings akin to Ajanta once adorned and bloomed across the cavern walls in resplendent glory. I had arrived there full of anticipation, only to learn on arrival—with a traveller’s sorrow and deep regret—that many of those fragile masterpieces had succumbed to the relentless seepage of water through the hills. After several valiant but unsuccessful attempts at on-site preservation, the authorities eventually chiselled out the rock surfaces bearing the surviving fragments and relocated them to the Bhopal Museum – a necessary rescue, though divorced from the living embrace of their caves, deprived of their original ambience. At Ajanta, in contrast, one still experiences the paintings in their natural setting and original ambience, where light, silence, and stone together recreate the world in which they were conceived, where the paintings converse with rock, shadow, and echo, exactly as their creators intended. After lingering in Cave 1 longer than planned, I boarded the e-bus—Rs 25 per head—and descended at Cave 8 to continue my exploration. Basic comforts—water dispensers and toilets—are thoughtfully placed near some entry points, a small mercy for weary wanderers. Shoes must be removed at the entrance to each cave, a ritual of humility before history—stricter here than at Ellora.
As the day waned, I retraced my steps with tired feet and boarded the e-AC bus again for Rs 25—after a long walk back to Cave 8, before embarking on a three-hour car journey covering 110 kilometres to return to Aurangabad. My spirit was overflowing—nourished by the extraordinary legacy of ancient Indian architecture, sculpture, and painting that had unfolded before me at Ellora and Ajanta. The stomach, however, demanded its own tribute, and I yielded gladly at Baraka, a celebrated restaurant at Connaught Place—the bustling heart of Aurangabad—renowned for its Middle Eastern and Arabic delicacies. The delectable dishes felt like a culinary adventure of their own, a welcome departure from the monotony of Pav Bhaji and Poha. The dinner was deeply satisfying—a fitting culinary epilogue to my Aurangabad sojourn. The following day, I returned to Manmad by train, enjoyed a wholesome lunch at the popular Kailash restaurant near the station, bowed to the statue of Shivaji, who established the foundation of a glorified Maratha confederacy with a formidable Maratha force to challenge the Mughals, and then endured the exasperating wait for the perpetually delayed Bengaluru-bound Karnataka Express. At last, as the train groaned into motion, I began the journey back to Bengaluru—only to prepare for another escape soon after, this time towards the mist-kissed hills of Coonoor and Ooty via Kotagiri.
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The dramatic horseshoe bend of the Sahyadri hills houses the 30 rock-cut caves of Ajanta. |
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The stunning architectural symmetry and rock-cut carvings frame the entrance of an ancient Chaitya hall. |
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Cave 1- Bodhisattva Padmapani |
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Cave 26 - Unique 2000-year-old sculpture of reclining Buddha |
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Cave 26 - Monumental sculptural façade |
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