Sacred waterscapes across two nation states— India and Sri Lanka
Kothanda Ramar Temple, Dhanushkodi, India.
Fishermen carrying their morning catch across the shoals in large baskets, devotees taking holy dips in the waters and long queues of religious tourists are all part of a busy summer morning at the Kothanda Ramar Temple in Rameshwaram, a famous Hindu pilgrimage site. The temple, with steep steps, houses Lord Rama, a very prominent Hindu deity who is believed, according to mythical story, to have crossed these waters to the land which is now Sri Lanka. Located on a very small island, surrounded by miles of shoals on the way to Dhanushkodi, the temple becomes a part of a large-water continuum. The fishermen walk across the shoals to the island, carrying heavy baskets to load into their vehicles. Sometimes, the fish are even sold within the temple premises,as the crowds leaving the temple purchase them at a lower price though bargaining–a typical market scene. This raises a question: what constitutes boundaries of architecture of sacredness? What defines the architecture of sacredness across land, shoals and water or land-water continuums? This essay argues that the architecture of sacredness in these places, situating itself in the everyday work life of communities integrate water both as a cosmological spiritual material
and as a source of daily sustenance. Sacredness is a porous entity intertwined with social hierarchies, everyday life, power structures, and a system of control. In these sacred places, water becomes a potential agent of control, and water-scape as a space for enactment of control.
The water connecting India and Sri Lanka are both a sacred and profane: water is used for ritualistic purification as well as source of daily sustenance for fishing communities. Located on a sea shore,the Ramanathaswamy Temple is the most famous Hindu temple in Rameshwaram. Fishing boats float not far from the shore, sharing the waters for purification and livelihood. The water-scape on one hand ritualistically purifies upon sacred dip and on the other sustains daily life. Here it is important to note that temples are/were part of elite Brahmical systems that play into brutal caste systems of social hierarchies and oppression. Further architecture research on this subject must critically examine who, when, how and where different daily activities happen. The entanglement of sacred and profane elements blurs the boundaries of sacredness in the waters connecting India and Sri Lanka.
Hindu temples of smaller scale used for daily worship by local residents are located a few miles away from both the famous temples (Ramanathaswamy temple and Kothanda Ramar Temple). The low-lying lands of Dhanushkodi devastated by cyclones in the 1960s have fluctuating water levels. Along either sides of recently constructed roads (built in 2016), these temples and residents get submerged during seasonal high tides. These temples which play a significant role in the day to day lives of people in Dhanushkodi inhabit an aqueous scape– situated on the shifting borders of waters and lands.
Nagapooshani Amman Temple in Nainativu, an island in the connecting waters between India and Sri Lanka demonstrates how the waters operate simultaneously as a sacred space, zone of control and connectivity. First, devotees take sacred dips in the waters near the ferry for ritualistic purification and use the waters from the same place for navigation and daily use.Boats moving across the waters from one island to another takes people and goods from Jaffna to Nainativu. Second, the Sri Lankan army who still have strong control over these areas have surveillance networks deployed across the waters. Third, the fishing communities depend on these waters for their daily work and sustenance. The shared waters is therefore a co- created, constructed place of entangled relationships and affinities where sacredness operates as a porous relational entity.
Two other temples in Northern Sri lanka, Sri Selvasannidhi (Temple) in Jaffna Peninsula and Thirukoneshvara temple in the North Eastern coast offer contrasting interpretations of what defines architecture of sacredness. At Sri Selvasannidhi, The sacred waters in front of the temple has a metal grill defining a rectangular water scape for sacred dip. According to a devotee in the temple, the grill was installed to protect people from crocodile attacks, and strong water currents. The Irrigation department and research centre which shares the boundary with the temple have constructions in the waters for their work. Here, sacred water scape here within the shared waters is a defined constructed space that controls human and non human mobilities.
At Thirukoneshvaram Temple, by contrast, the surrounding sea is imbued with sacredness. Everyday, local fishing groups set out to sea only after receiving blessings from the temple’s deity. They approach the temple by boats from the east, collect a few handfuls of water from the sea and sprinkles water on the boats as a form of purification and protection. In this case, the boundaries of architecture of sacredness bleeds into the sea blurring the distinctions between sacred and profane places.
This essay argues that the architecture of sacredness in the shared waterscapes between India and Sri Lanka is not confined to the physical boundaries of temples. Instead it is co-constructed through entangled relationships of ritual, livelihood, mobility, and control. By examining how everyday practices– such as fishing, religious tourism, and surveillance– intersect with sacred rituals across land-water continuum. This essay reveals that sacredness in these regions is fluid, porous, and shaped as much by socio-political and ecological forces as by religious traditions.
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