Puri, Konark, beaches and a taste of Chena Poda: An Odisha odyssey

The dusky sun rays slant over the huge chariot wheels carved into the stone. There are intricate figurines and delicate patterns woven into the blocks that make up this spectacular temple.

Dedicated to the Sun God, you can see how the beauty of the architecture changes as the sun proceeds on its journey from east to west, if you stay long enough.

This is the Konark Sun temple, built in the 13th century, now its ruins still stand, weathering and crumbling away but majestic nevertheless. It was designed as a massive chariot of Surya, pulled by seven horses, six of which remain today.

Thinking back I would have loved to run my hands over the stone, to feel the art beneath my fingers. Further back the dance hall opens up, exposed to the elements now that its roof has fallen off. Built on a raised platform, it is easy to imagine this stage in its glory, dances being performed and the ringing of ghungroos, the ankle bells used by traditional classical dancers.

The Chandrabaga beach is nearby so is the famed Puri Jagannath temple. We stayed by the beach, one of the cleanest beaches I have seen in India. The water is cool and clear, the sands devoid of rubbish and weeds. The sun at dawn is a bright orange orb and the sea reflects the glow, a sight worth waking up in the wee morning hours with a cup of tea. Stop and savour that view because I have never seen a sunrise that beautiful since.

Of course while at Puri, one cannot miss the Jagannath temple, one of the four sacred Hindu pilgrimage sites. Devoted to Lord Vishnu, this temple has an elongated curved structure with a Neelachakra, a wheel with 8 spokes made of an alloy of 8 metals, mounted at the top. It would be remiss if I didn’t mention the flag-changing ceremony every day. The ‘Patitapavana Bana’ is changed every evening by temple priests chanting Jai Jagannath in a gravity-defying feat.

Before you leave Odisha with the mysteries of heritage and folklore lingering in your head do not forget to visit Pahala, that much famed roadside Halwai hub in Bhubaneswar. I won’t forget that sight in a hurry. Sweets being prepared and ready for sampling and buying, a whole street of them.

But nothing beats the rows upon rows of Chena Poda wrapped in the Sal leaves that give it its distinct flavour and aroma. Indian cheesecake, I heard someone call it and I don’t think you get it anywhere else.

The vendor cut out a huge chunk from the thick cake. One bite and I knew I was hooked. Rich and milky, soft, sweet and cheesy on the inside, Crispy Caramelly, burnt and smoky on the outside. Deliciousness in every bite.

I went back for seconds. And thirds, before I finally left for home.

(The writer is a psychiatrist in Kannur, Kerala.)

Tourism