A visit to Shiv Gunga Temple Malkana, District Chakwal

Shiv or Sub Gunga in Malkana is one of the small archelogical sites of Salt-Range, situated close to Maghal and Malot villages in district Chakwal. The temple was founded by Budhists and used by Hindu Shahia in later centuries as a sacred place .It is not a blue eyed boy of local historians whose mind and imagination have always been occupied by Katas Temples mainly for myths and charm that surround them. Salt-Range has more than 70 identified heritage sites that live vibrantly in archaeology files but are fast becoming a forgotten memory in practice. They speak of Governmental and people apathy when a roaming soul happens to see them. Like a dying patient who desperately needs life-saving treatment, Malkana Temple is lying there in waste, waiting to breathe its last. If we go by the current neglect of Evacuee Department, its demise would happen without any funeral rites too. To bring a smile on Shiv Gunga face that waits for some one to appreciate its being and lessen its isolation, we decided to have a visit of the place. We were quite passionate about it as apart from its historical lineage, its being a scenic and magical place was an additional tonic for our nature-hungry souls. We were told there were obstacles to cross before we could come in person with the temple and that involved passing over a mountain and even driving on stones .Our skinny car could dance in ecstasy on straighter roads but behaved like a lame duck on difficult terrains, and that forced us to opt for a Jeep, whom we named Shahzadi by consensus. She could proudly deal with winding mountain roads in a stout and dignified manner and was rather brave in comparison to its riders who even turned pale at some points travelling from Maghal Village to Malkana. The seemingly medieval road track followed an ascent and then descent in a way that the entire universe seemed to conspire and stop us from heading to the temple. This small journey had turned us from chirping birds to serious philosophers who were thinking more about the life hereafter than the archaeological masterpiece. However Shahzadi remained upbeat despite its wavering like a drunkard and succeeded in putting us on a metal road soon from where Malkana was just a few minutes away. Here we came to know that a direct road goes to Malkana from Dalwal instead of making zigzags in the mountains. Shahzadi couldnt vent its anger but we immediately cursed in union our self-styled guide who had visited this place years ago and was not updated of new road works. Shiv Gunga was on the left of the road, and it didnt seem to announce its existence in grand style but rather carried a down to earth impression. Its front view from the road is maligned by long and undisciplined trees standing by the road, making the temple to go in a hide and seek mood. It`s chopped head, cut off by heavy rains of mid-eighties further dampens your spirit and expectations. We felt happy to see some local wood cutters, climbing up the trees and doing justice with their unruly branches. They were doing this to boost their cooking and domestic heating but the act was a blessing in disguise for the temple as it could remove wrinkles from its view and beautify its look. Unlike Katas Temples that stand tall and dominant, bullying the landscape quite authoritatively, Shiv Gunga fails to establish its writ as shrubs and plants have heavily invaded its premises. Void of any aesthetic sense, they have grown wildly and seem oblivious to Shiv`s presence there. However, the beautiful stream, winding down calmly soothes your hard feelings, and you are a bit relieved from a sudden attack of disappointment at first sight.

Gradually, we start seeing Shiv Gunga as it is and this change in thinking pattern starts working as a balm. The place is cluster of three buildings, the main Buddhist temple, a Hindu temple and a residential building. Amid bustling green environment, Shiv Gung area has two big oak and a date tree in its premises, first like bearded and shadowy old timers while later like a lofty minaret trying to reach above all. They add both charm and mystery to the place .We were informed that locals are afraid of passing through this place at night because of some human-thirsty spirits that prowl to pick their prey. We also came to know that few weeks back a woman had died mysteriously in the area and the blame went to Shiv Gunga as usual. Though it was daytime but some of us felt the chill of Freddy Krueger, coming from somewhere to raze us all. Contrary to the rumours, flowing stream, and blooming flowers kindled brighter side of life, telling us beauty is more powerful than fear and this kept us on moving with same vigour. In contrast to the surroundings, the main Temple is in pathetic form and annihilation is writ large on it. The white plaster on front and right is the only bit of prominence left that reminds visitors of its grandeur in bygone days. The door to entrance is half blocked by debris of the fallen roof, and we had to bend down to see the interior. It is dark inside but you can still see the walls painted in yellow, blue and red colours that reflect eternity. We did not find Budhist or Hindu carvings inside but inscriptions by visiting love-birds stating A Loves H .That brings smiles on our faces though there is no information, whether A and H could cross barriers of society and time or not .We didnt succeed to find any image that resembled Alexander as stated by Major Abbot while he visited Shiv Gunga centuries ago. Its popular belief though that Alexander crossed Salt Range before entering into the plains where he fought with Raja of Porus. While heading towards the smaller temple, we found ourselves standing in a courtyard of the residential building. Buddhist and Hindu visitors to Shiv Gunga stayed in this building during their general visits and Tapasia times. The building reminded me of Canterbury tales as echoes of the past pilgrims seemed to stay there in air and flair. The feeling was so deep that appearance of some Pandit or Parauhat was imminent at any moment. But to our disappointment, a young man Altaf whose family is the occupant of the place approached us, and soon we were in chitchat session while standing at his rooftop. His Grandpa had started living in the building from 1935 and since then his generations continue enjoying this picturesque surrounding where a casual visitor would long to stay forever as a Lord of Tartary, one of S.T.Coleridge`s imaginary land, intoxicated in oriental colours and culture. But Altaf had other thoughts, Sanoo tay ithon kujh vee nehi labhia flattened our ears that were eager to listen to something like yeh to janat jasee jagah hay.He worked in a coal mine nearby and his economic struggle had taught him to see things in a daal rote perspective than eulogizing natural beauty like roaming vagabonds .If every body becomes Wordworth, world would surely drift to starvation and hence likes of Altaf help understanding a huge void between dream and reality. There were 50 to 75 homes at some stage inhabiting this area, but they have shifted to bigger places and left Shiv Gunga friendless, striving at its own in this wilderness. The inside view of the smaller temple was blocked as it had a curtain at its entrance not because it had relics inside but the chaff that was more precious to inhabitants than anything else. A big dry pond right in front of the main temple entrance was filled with debris and Lid of donkeys, golden friends of men living in far off places. Altaf used to jump in this pond from Oak tree untill early 90`s but later on water channels got stuck and life became standstill for the pond. There is another small pond close by explaining how important

place water occupied in ancient Hindu philosophy as a means of spiritual cleansing. We thanked Altaf who we assumed was staying there with tacit approval of Evacuee Department in a hope that the occupants would take care of residential building at least .This has worked with respect to the lodging area but Altaf has no means and magical powers to stop rains, down pouring on the main Temple. The life or death of Shiv Gunga lies with Archeology Baboos of Punjab Government as the temple itself has fought enough against time and its surviving strength is heavily outweighed against indifference of its protectors. Passing by an oak tree that sprung out of a fallen wall and heading back to our Shahzadi parked on the main road waiting to take us back, I was reminded of a Tagore`s poem Deity of the ruined Temple that expresses how desolate a runined place becomes when left like an orphan by passing time. The broken strings of Vina sing no more your praise The bell in the evening proclaim not your time of worship The air is still and silent about you In your desolate dwelling comes the vagrant spring breeze It brings the tidings of flowers The flowers that for your worship are offered no more.