A workspace of carver at Kullu
Lalita Waldia celebrates temple carvers who work intuitively, in order to serve the deity.
(A message to the reader in Hindi.)
(A message to the reader in English.)
“The hymn, set to the steady rhythm of chisels, echoes through a space filled with sacred items, while soot from rituals marks the walls. Together, these elements create a sense of the sacred, distinct from the flow of daily life.”
I’ve always been fascinated by the wood and stone-built structures of the Indian Himalayas, not just for their aesthetics but for the narratives they embody. The vernacular craft and architecture of the Himalayas have been shaped by a traditional knowledge system passed down through generations. Large, exposed wood serves as a canvas for expressing the community’s artistic values while appeasing their deities. In an era where vernacular architecture is disappearing, and most buildings look alike, the temples of Kullu, Himachal Pradesh, stand resilient, preserving the ancient tradition of wood carving. While there have been tangible and intangible changes, the persistence of this craft amid rapidly evolving infrastructure is captivating—a negotiation with change while revealing emerging carving patterns.
To explore this further, I began documenting the motifs carved in the temples, aiming to understand their patterns and deeper meanings. My documentation includes the year of temple construction, architectural details, deities to whom they are dedicated, and conversations with temple administrators about the narratives surrounding these sacred spaces. The carved motifs form a language of craft, much like how language conveys emotions or ideas through words. These motifs, too, serve as a form of creative expression for the community.
I documented 38 temples along the Beas River in Kullu. The changes are apparent in newer temples, particularly those built after 2000. Motifs tend to be floral, and geometric and include divine figures from the broader Hindu pantheon reflecting changes in the religious-political sphere in the region. The well-known nagas, or serpent gods have an important place in the agrarian communities and are present in most of the temples. Each carries a symbolic meaning and is often associated with the deities and sometimes the local community as well. In contrast, older temples reflect the region’s local deity system, featuring human figures engaged in various activities, as well as erotic figures, or Mithuna, which have now become taboo in the community. Changes are also evident in the materials, tools, and technology used. The introduction of new tools has allowed for designs that were previously foreign to the region, giving carvers the freedom to explore more intricate patterns.
Erotic motifs at Tripurasundari Temple, Naggar
The shift from vernacular to contemporary architecture is consistent with changes in other Himalayan regions, where concrete structures are often seen as symbols of social status. Yet, despite these changes, temples continue to negotiate obstacles and hold space. While traditional designs have evolved, they still reflect the community and its surroundings. What sets temple craft apart is the process and the values embedded within it.
Kullu, known as Devbhoomi or the “land of gods,” is home to an extensive deity system, with each village having its own deity. There is a complex hierarchy among the local deities, and the temple serves as the community’s identity, with strong social connotations. More elaborate carvings signify higher status and are believed to represent more powerful divine energy.
A woodcarver at Chandi temple, Kataula
Temples are communal projects, with everyone contributing to the craft work, especially in today’s market, where wood is not an easily available resource and has a high market value. For the craft community, temple carving is not merely a profession but an act of devotion to the deity. The process is filled with rituals, rules, and regulations, which form the core of the craft and keep it alive in a fast-changing world. From planning the woodwork to selecting the tree to the final shikhar puja (temple spire ritual), every step is guided by the gur (oracle) and managed by the temple committee. What intrigued me most was the design process: how the carvers decide what to carve in an era dominated by computer-aided designs. To my surprise, they don’t plan anything. Master craftsman Pawan, who was working with three other carvers on the Chandi Temple during the chilly month of February in Himachal Pradesh, explained:
The kashtkalakar (wood artisan) always works with meaning. Every carving is devoted to the deities. We don’t plan before we start. There’s an aabhas (intuition) while working in the temple, and no designer is needed. Whatever the deity requires, we serve. The process is automatic; everything is in our minds before we start carving.
As I listened, I observed the space around me. Sacred items were scattered about, incense burned atop chisels, and hymns merged with the rhythmic tak-tak of tools, creating a sacred atmosphere. The carvers’ ability to use material and body creates relationships that bind community members and deepen their belief in the deity.
The detailed carvings in temples are not just representations of the ethereal realm; they are integral to the temple’s efficacy in mobilizing divine power, people, and resources. Carvers develop an intimacy with the deity, and their craft resonates, amplifying the community’s ideas, experiences, and concerns. For those visiting the temple, sensory experiences are central to the sense of luxury and devotion. The visual and tactile nature of the wood carvings draws worshippers closer to the deity. These carvings evoke emotions, imbuing the temple with sacred power.
This is what sets the religious craft of wood carving apart from others: it forges a deep connection with the people, sustaining the tradition. As I sought to understand the meanings behind the motifs, I encountered multiple narratives. These meanings are not static; they continuously evolve, blending various stories rather than following a linear progression. The carvings serve as visual documentaries of past thoughts and imaginations. Although the narration has shifted over time, the underlying essence remains, now expressed beyond the temple facades in subtler and more profound ways.
Deity culture of Kullu
References
Handa, O. C. The Divine Wood: Woodcarvings in Western Himalayas: Temples, Monasteries and Sculptures. Aryan Books International, 2021.
Mohan, Urmila. Clothing as Devotion in Contemporary Hinduism. Manohar Publishers and Distributors, 2024.
About Lalita Waldia
Lalita hails from the Indian Western Himalayas and is an architect, researcher, and development professional. She is passionate about uncovering narratives through vernacular craft, architecture, and everyday life in the mountains. Her work focuses on understanding the Himalayas from various perspectives, fostering a deeper connection with both the place and its people. Currently, she is a project coordinator for People for Himalayan Development, Himachal Pradesh.
