Kajlasar of Parinagar

Nagarparkar has long stood as a crossroads of cultures and beliefs. It is a land where the desert yields to stone, and where the echoes of ancient traditions resonate in the very landscape. Within this unique setting, the history of the Śvetāmbara Jain community unfolds, leaving behind a legacy that continues to shape the identity of this place.  

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Centuries ago, Jainism arrived, bringing with it not only its core tenets of non-violence but also a distinct aesthetic and structured way of life. From the 12th to the 15th centuries, Nagarparkar and its surrounding villages flourished as centers of elaborately carved temples and organized communities. These communities, driven by the principles of restraint, discipline, and self-realization, left an indelible mark on the region's architecture. Even today, the stone spires, geometric carvings, and delicately filigreed domes of their temples stand as silent witnesses to their presence, albeit worn by time and abandonment.  

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Among these quiet ruins, the site of Parinagar emerges as a particularly evocative space. Here, the remnants of Jain temples, some still remarkably intact, others reduced to mere outlines of stone, coexist with a mosque that echoes the same stylistic choices. This architectural continuity speaks to a shared artistic heritage, forged by the hands of common craftsmen and a pervasive aesthetic sensibility. Nearby, the Mata Rani Bhatiyani, a Hindu Temple remains a vibrant center of worship, a testament to the enduring spiritual significance of the region. This juxtaposition of sacred spaces tells a profound story of co-existence and deep-rootedness, of a place that was not simply inhabited but deeply believed in.

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It is within this sacred geography that Kajlasar, a pond whose name still lingers on the tongues of locals, finds its place. Known for its still, dark waters, Kajlasar is more than just a body of water; it is a repository of memory, a mirror reflecting the lives and rituals of those who came before.

Local folklore recounts how the women of Parinagar, particularly the Jain women, would perform their ritual bathing in Kajlasar in the early hours of the morning. Adorned with heavy kohl (Kajal) that richly lined their eyes, they left shimmering black trails upon the pond's surface. The water, it is said, bore the mark of their beauty and devotion. These were not mere acts of vanity but essential components of a community's daily rhythm, of morning rituals that intricately connected the spiritual self to the life-giving element of water and the physical self to the nurturing land.

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The significance of these rituals deepens when we consider the role of women in the wider life of their community. Pandit Chaturlal Nanjimal Lohano, one of the few remaining keepers of the oral histories of this region, recounts how these women played an active role in the construction and maintenance of a Jain temple in the Palan Bazaar. This was not simply an act of religious piety but also a demonstration of communal economics in action, with marketplace earnings supporting the temple's upkeep and women playing a central role in financial decisions.

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Śvetāmbara Jain belief, in contrast to many patriarchal religious traditions, recognizes the potential for women to attain enlightenment without being reborn as men. This belief was not merely theoretical but manifested in the social fabric of Parinagar, where women actively participated in devotion and public life. Theirs was a faith not of distant reverence but of active engagement.

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Therefore, Kajlasar transcends its physical form. It is a memory bank, holding within its depths traces of a society that was deliberate, communal, and aesthetically vibrant. The water reflects not only the sky and clouds but also the presence of those who once lived and worshipped on its banks. Even though the temples may stand in ruins and the Jain families may have long since migrated, the pond endures. Its surface may be quiet, but it is far from empty.

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Local poets captured the essence of Kajlasar in these evocative verses:

‏ڪجل جي ريک ڪپرن تي

‏تلاءُ ۾ چنڊ پئي تڙڳيا

‏کٿورين جا اکا آڻي

‏سکين پئي جر ڏئا موهيا

‏ڪڏھن ٿينديس سُکان آئون

‏ڀڳي هڏ جيئن ڏُکان آئون

 

Translation:

Kajal's streaks on the water's edge,

The moon rippling in the pond,

Bringing forth the eyes of kathori,

Friends are lighting lamps in the water,

When will I find peace? Like a broken bone, I ache.

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While their poetry evokes the mystery and longing associated with this sacred site, the truth of Kajlasar resides not only in verse but also in orature, in the collective memory of the community, and in the enduring presence of the stone that surrounds it.

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To remember Kajlasar is to engage in a process of "re-membering," a bringing back together of the scattered fragments of the past. The women of Parinagar, their morning rituals of cleansing and offering food to migratory birds, the communal building of temples, the grandeur of the architecture—all these elements remain intrinsically linked to this place. The pond does not demand romanticization; it simply asks to be acknowledged, to be recognized and preserved as a vital part of the region's cultural and spiritual heritage.

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Kajlasar serves as a potent reminder that places are sustained not solely by architectural structures but also by the stories, the rituals, and the everyday care of those who came before. And when we actively engage in this act of remembrance, we do not merely look back; we re-enter a shared responsibility to listen to the echoes of the past, to protect the legacy of the present, and to pass on the torch of memory to the future.

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