One of the most perplexing aspects of Chaurasi Khamba is its elusive count. Despite being named after eighty-four pillars, locals insist that the number fluctuates upon counting, never arriving at a consistent total. Whether this is an optical illusion, an architectural anomaly, or simply a myth perpetuated by belief, remains a mystery.
2025.01.30 (Vrindavan Today News): Tucked away in the ancient town of Kaman, Rajasthan, stands a crumbling yet enigmatic structure known as Chaurasi Khamba—The Eighty-Four Pillars. This forgotten architectural relic, shrouded in myths, historical upheavals, and cultural transformations, whispers tales of devotion, destruction, and resilience.
A Structure Lost in Time
Kaman, once referred to as Kamyavana or Brahmapura, holds deep historical and mythological significance. It forms a part of the sacred Braj region, associated with Shri Krishna’s pastimes. While today the structure is an abandoned ruin under the supervision of the Archaeological Survey of India, its origins trace back to a glorious past, entwined with the narratives of Hindu rulers, mystical legends, and subsequent invasions.
Legends and Local Beliefs
As with many ancient structures in India, Chaurasi Khamba is enshrined in folklore. One of the most intriguing tales suggests that the monument was built in a single night by supernatural beings—jinns—who abandoned the construction midway when disturbed by the sound of a grinding stone. The purported evidence? Carvings on the ceiling depicting a grinding stone and an old woman.
Another narrative links the site to Shri Krishna’s Chhathi Puja, a ceremony held on the sixth day after his birth. Some claim that the Pandavas spent a part of their exile here. Others, however, assert that it was originally a grand Vishnu temple built by the Yaduvanshi King Kamasena, Krishna’s maternal grandfather, or by Queen Vachhalika, wife of a Gurjara-Pratihara ruler.
Historical and Architectural Insights
Despite the variations in oral traditions, historical records present a compelling account. A 9th-century inscription discovered at the site establishes its connection to the Gurjara-Pratihara dynasty. The structure was initially a magnificent Vishnu temple, adorned with intricate carvings of deities such as Vishnu, Shiva-Parvati, and the Navagrahas.
According to 19th-century accounts, British traveler Sir Alexander noted over 200 ornately carved pillars, a number that has since dwindled. The surviving pillars, crafted from stones similar to those in Fatehpur Sikri and Rupbas, bear testimony to exquisite craftsmanship. Measurements of the courtyard reveal precise dimensions—52 feet 8 inches in length and 49 feet 9 inches in width—suggesting careful architectural planning.
Transformation and Decline
Like many temples of northern India, Chaurasi Khamba suffered under successive invasions. The first recorded destruction came in the 13th century under the Delhi Sultanate’s ruler Iltutmish, who repurposed sections of the temple into a mosque, inscribing his name on the entrance. Further desecration followed in the 14th century under Firoz Shah Tughlaq, who reinforced the Islamic additions by engraving Quranic verses on the entrance arch and constructing a prayer platform.
Over time, as power shifted and Hindu communities regained influence, the temple was reclaimed. However, no new deity was ever installed, leaving it as an empty shrine—a silent witness to history’s tides.
The Vanishing Pillars and a Mystery Unsolved
One of the most perplexing aspects of Chaurasi Khamba is its elusive count. Despite being named after eighty-four pillars, locals insist that the number fluctuates upon counting, never arriving at a consistent total. Whether this is an optical illusion, an architectural anomaly, or simply a myth perpetuated by belief, remains a mystery.
Today, Chaurasi Khamba stands as an abandoned skeleton of its former self, largely ignored by mainstream history yet deeply embedded in local consciousness. Its remnants, though weathered, speak of a past where devotion met artistry, and where conquests rewrote sacred spaces.
For those who venture into its ruins, Chaurasi Khamba is more than just an archaeological site—it is a palimpsest of faith, conflict, and time itself, waiting to share its forgotten stories with those willing to listen.
