This blog isn’t a complete answer to that question. Instead, consider it an attempt to unravel the small questions, the wonders, and the curiosities I’ve carried with me for a long time. So this is not a conclusion, but rather a trail of questions and some answers from my perspective.
Before I dive into the big topic of India’s diverse temples, it wouldn’t feel right to start without the ones I frequented while growing up.
Kottayi: Where my questions began
Many of our core thoughts originate in childhood. I spent most of mine in Kottayi, Palakkad, and since my mom is an avid believer, I saw these temples, rituals, and beliefs through her eyes.
I wonder about the origin, structures, what’s inside the pond (Chembrakulam) and temples. Even now I wonder, Is there a fourth Temple? Why do some temples are having rectangle or circle as base structure? Why there is a big structure outside of some temples with varying heights.
Etymology – What we really mean when we say “Temple”
To truly understand these structures, I explored the names we give them. Today, we use “Temple” as an umbrella word, but the word itself has a curious history. It originates from the Latin templum, referring to a consecrated, cleared space for worship.
I’m sure in India “temples ” were here even before Latin Language existed.
But as I looked at our local languages, I found layers of meaning that feel much more intimate and connected:
- Ambalam (Malayalam/Tamil): While it means an open field or courtyard, a deeper meaning suggests a “stage of consciousness” – a wide-open space where the mind meets the divine.
- Mandir (Sanskrit/Hindi): Derived from Mand (to be happy or celebrate) and Ira (earth or place). It is literally a place on earth to celebrate the joy of existence.
- Kovil or Koil (Tamil): A combination of Ko (King or Divine) and il (Home). It treats the deity as the living, breathing ruler of the village, and the temple as their home.
- Prasada: We often think of this as the food we receive, but in architecture, the entire temple structure is the Prasada. It means “Clarity” – the building itself is a tool designed to settle and clear the mind.
- Kavu: The ancient “Sacred Grove.” Rooted in the idea of “protection”, it is the temple that wasn’t built, but preserved – a sanctuary where nature and the elements remain untouched.
And if you have visited them, you will understand why the name is spot-on.
Why we need a Temple?
In India, across every state and spanning millennia, there are temples. The public, Kings and the wealthy spent huge sums willingly (or perhaps unwillingly) to build them. I’m not interested in the specific customs, rituals that are been followed at present. I doubt If we have missed something over the generations – about the actual purpose of a temple.
Dogs, cats, birds, and fish don’t need temples; they simply live and die. Is it because humans—with our memory and intelligence—want to pass something down to the next generation? If these buildings might be a form of science, a way to transmit information across time. But did we actually receive the message?
When I asked people around me why they visit, one thing was clear: they go for peace of mind. They seek a calm state. Irrespective of religion or region, this seems to be the universal purpose.
What I am fascinated is its architecture. The mathematical precision, geometry, energy, geography, hidden messages .
Sensory Design: How the mind experiences
How one experiences a temple is deeply personal.
I’ve realized that old temples are almost always located in geographically significant places: near rivers, atop mountains, deep in jungles, or by the sea. Some say these are “energy zones,” though I am still unqualified to experience that at present.
We usually go to the temple in the morning or evening (sandhya), at that time the beauty of nature, people, temples are magnified.
In the temples of Kerala, I’ve observed a specific “conditioning” of the mind. The massive walls block out external noise. In the darkness of the sanctum, your senses are narrowed down to a few things: the flickering light, the scent of chandanam (sandalwood), tulsi, and flowers, the resonance of the bells. Outside, smell of camphor, nallenna (sesame/gingelly oil), ghee when the lamps are lit up. The visual beauty of the chutambalam(Outer enclosure) , when the array of thousands of lamps (Vilakku) are lit can’t be described, one has to experience it.
Amidst all these, the sound of stillness.
In the Temples of North or Western or Eastern India, based on what I have seen, the experience is more “democratic“. People can go right up to the idols and perform their own offerings. Here they sing bhajans together in a different, more vocal version of that same conditioning.
You can be alone or in a crowd, both are meditative, we lose identity of the self..
Evolution assumptions – The Shift: From nature worship
I wonder when the first version of temple existed- Is it when the human evolution reached a stage where it moved beyond the animal wisdom and started to settle at one place, started agriculture and stopped the nomadic way of life. Was a temple originally a place for worship, or was it a community hub to share art, craft, and information?
What could be the first form of worship – The pancha bhoothas – Fire, Air, Earth, Water, Space. I guess there was no need for a temple or architecture, they were happy with formless nature around, which they feared and valued.
Maybe much later the human-formed deities/idols came into existence. Before that the previous generation worshiped Forest, Trees, Rivers, Beaches, Mountains, Sun, Moon, Planets, stars.
Then there are as avatars, as vehicles of Gods : Fish, Monkeys, Elephant, Boar, Bull, Cow, Lion, Tiger, Cats, Rat, Crocodile-Makara , Birds ( Eagle, Peacock, Swan, Owl) and of course Snakes.
Then there are hybrid animals depicted in the temple stone/wooden carvings like Vyali, Bhairavan, Gaja-Simha, Naga-yakshi. But they act as protectors around the temple.
This is where my questions become uncomfortable – even for me. A thought came , a what-if moment. Is it like when someone in power took what was once simple nature worship and turned it into a complex system of rituals and ‘science.’ By doing this, they effectively locked the common person/tribals out of the inner circle. Or indeed there was a science behind all these ?
“Nobody listened to Buddha; that is why there is Buddhism.”
– J. Krishnamurti
Back to Kottayi for a moment
I tried to search for the history of my childhood region, Kottayi and the Ayyappan Kavu. The information was minimal, only going back a few centuries. But the elders speak of at least 3-4 Pambin Kavus (Snake Groves) in the area. I remember visiting them as a child; I was horrified to go there even in broad daylight.
The local legend says someone found a stone from a Pambin Puttu (snake mound) and began worshiping it, eventually building a temple. Perhaps this is just a way of saying that what was once a dense, wild forest was slowly converted into a human settlement. I often wonder what that land looked like five centuries ago.
A Southward Journey Through Temples
These images weren’t taken on a single journey. They come from years of travel, scattered across time. I’ve placed them here deliberately from north to south to let geography, material, and mood reveal themselves.
A Trail of Curiosity & What Remains constant?
After arranging these temples by geography—from the North down to the South—the sheer variation in material, scale, and state is striking. Some are active centers of ritual; others are silent, non-operational monuments. We see different stones and weights, with some structures emphasizing openness and others shifting toward heavy enclosure. Looking at them together, I’m left with a question: beyond their current use or state of repair, was there a shared intent in their design? Could the way they manipulate space, light, and geometry be a deliberate attempt to alter a human’s state of mind?
Is it possible that these temples are not merely monuments to a deity, but a form of ancient ‘technology’ we’ve forgotten how to operate? I wonder if they were designed to be more than just buildings, perhaps they are instruments tuned to a frequency we no longer hear.
What if the stillness one feel isn’t just a product of own mind, but something engineered into the very structure? And looking further, I have to ask: why do so many of these structures seem to watch the sky? Is it a coincidence that their alignments often mirror the movements of the sun, the moon, and the stars, or were they built as synchronization tools—linking our small human systems to the vast rhythm of the cosmos?
If the ancient statement Tat Tvam Asi—that what you seek is what you already are—is the true destination, then could the temple be a mirror? Not a place to reach outward, but a device designed to turn our attention inward, until the boundary between the individual, the architecture, and the universal energy begins to blur?
In next blog, I want to explore these next questions: Do the Meru pyramid and the Sri Chakra act as a code for this connection between the earth and the stars? Is there a link between the geometry of the stone and the geometry of the self.” And is there a similarity between all the temples of India?
The art of Slowing Down 