New Delhi: A thousand years ago, in a quiet coastal village, a master sculptor stood before a bubbling pot of beeswax and resin, his mind ablaze with an idea. Commissioned to craft a majestic bronze Shiva, he couldn’t shake the words of poet-saint Sambandar, who praised the Hindu god as “the thief who stole my heart.”
And so, he set out to create not just a divine figure but a heart-stealer—one so bewitching it would transcend time itself, said Vidya Dehejia, author of the 2021 book, The Thief Who Stole My Heart: The Material Life of Sacred Bronzes from Chola India, 855–1280.
“In the eyes of devotees, these bronzes were not inert objects of metal but deities imbued with divine presence—gods who could see, hear, and feel,” said Dehejia during her recent lecture at the India International Centre in New Delhi.
A leading scholar in Indian art history, Dehejia used evocative storytelling techniques to delve into the rich legacy of Chola bronze sculptures at the event. Drawing from her extensive research and acclaimed publications, she explored the sacred and material dimensions of these masterpieces—how they acquired the status of living deities, and later found their place in museums across the world.
Chaired by Parul Dave Mukherji, a professor at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU)’s School of Arts and Aesthetics, the session promised a compelling journey into the world of Chola artistry. For over four centuries, the Chola empire thrived as a hub of artistic and maritime supremacy. Their famous bronze sculptures, known for their divine beauty, were created using materials and resources obtained through a well-organised system of trade, conquest, and tribute.
Reflection of spirituality
One of the most striking aspects of Chola bronzes is their emphasis on physical beauty—an aesthetic not commonly associated with religious iconography in other parts of India. The bronzes, particularly those of Shiva and his consort Uma, exude an irresistible sensuality.
Nowhere is this more evident than in a breathtaking four-piece bronze capturing a deeply human moment: the marriage of Shiva and Uma. Here, Shiva, the confident groom, reaches out to take his bride’s hand. Uma, shy and hesitant, lingers just a step behind, her shoulders curving inward as if shielding her vulnerability; a striking contrast to the poised, self-assured consort she would later become.
Standing beside them is Vishnu, Uma’s brother — presiding over his sister’s wedding. To her left, Vishnu’s consort, Lakshmi, plays the role of a caring confidant. With both hands, she gently urges the hesitant bride forward. “The master artist has captured a fleeting, tender moment of love, hesitation, and quiet encouragement,” said Dehejia, bringing the divine union to life with extraordinary sensitivity.
She attributed this to the poetic traditions of Tamil saint-poets such as Sambandar, who reimagined Shiva not as a distant deity residing in the Himalayas but as an intimate, earthly presence.
Sambandar’s verses capture this transformation:
“He wears a woman’s earring on one ear; riding on his bull, crowned with the pure white crescent moon, his body smeared with ash from the burning ground, he is the thief who stole my heart …”
This poetic devotion reshaped the artistic representation of Shiva, portraying him as an enchanting figure rather than a formidable ascetic. The bronzes embody a philosophy where physical beauty is a manifestation of moral and spiritual perfection.
The influence of Chola bronzes was not confined to South India. Tamil merchants and maritime networks carried this distinct artistic style far beyond their homeland. Similar bronze sculptures have been found in Sri Lanka, and the Kaiyuan Temple in Quanzhou, China, contains stone carvings similar to 13th-century Chola-style temples.
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Cholas and sacred bronzes
It is easy to imagine Chola artisans sculpting bronze deities that would define the golden era of Tamil artistry. But where did the raw materials for these masterpieces come from? This question, long overlooked, uncovers a fascinating link that stretches beyond the Indian subcontinent.
Tamil Nadu, despite its prolific bronze legacy, lacked a natural, readily available source of copper—a crucial component of bronze casting. “Tamil Nadu does not have significant copper deposits. The scale at which these bronzes were produced suggests that the material had to be sourced from elsewhere,” Dehejia said, adding that “No one has a clue regarding the source from which copper was obtained to create this multitude of Chola bronzes.”
The Cholas were no strangers to overseas influence. Their naval power extended across the Indian Ocean, and their conquests included Sri Lanka itself. “There’s a strong likelihood that copper from Sri Lanka was transported across the seas to Tamil Nadu,” she said. “This connection underlines the scale and sophistication of Chola resource management.”
But the empire’s grandeur was not solely built on conquest. Its strong economic and agricultural foundations fuelled its prosperity too. Inscriptions indicate that rice banks ensured a steady food supply and, in turn, economic stability, explained Dehejia. Rice was the standard measure for wages paid to temple employees and was also used in town markets for trade.
“These banks stored surplus grain, which temple institutions could then redistribute, reinforcing a sense of community and social structure,” she said.
Irrigation projects, such as the grand Kaveri Delta system, turned the region into a rice-producing powerhouse, creating surplus wealth that allowed for large-scale patronage of the arts.
“It was the innovative irrigation system put in place by the Cholas that made possible the rich agricultural wealth that enabled donors to commission large numbers of bronze images and to further adorn them with lavish jewellery, ” she said. If any monarchy rose to power on the foundation of irrigation and agriculture, she said, it was the Cholas. Their irrigation system remains the backbone of Tamil Nadu’s prosperity—one of India’s richest agricultural states.
This prosperity manifested most vividly in the sacred bronzes themselves. Devotion was not just carved into the sculptures but adorned upon them; thousands of pearls, gold embellishments, and encrusted gemstones reflected the Chola people’s reverence.
“The bronzes were not merely objects of worship; they were displays of the empire’s artistic grandeur and economic strength,” Dehejia stressed.
Also read: How Rajaraja Chola became the world’s richest king
Copper, pearls, and power
Vidya Dehejia’s search for the Chola Empire’s mysterious copper supply led her beyond India’s borders to Seruwila in Sri Lanka. “The Seruwila copper belt could have been the primary source of Chola copper. Strengthening this hypothesis is a rare chemical fingerprint: Seruwila copper has a clear and exceedingly rare trace element of cobalt-nickel,” Dehejia explained.
“With the help of Donna K Strahan, of the Freer Museum’s lab, three of the five bronzes that we were able to test revealed a high percentage of this rare cobalt nickel,” she said.
For definitive proof, she added, “It’s necessary for the actual ore from Seruwila and drillings from Chola bronzes, wherever we can get them from, to be tested in the very same lab under identical conditions.” Until then, the Chola copper trail will remain an enigma—one that could redefine South Asia’s historical trade networks.
But copper was not the only Sri Lankan treasure the Cholas sought. Their ambitions were equally driven by pearls. Queen Panchavan, consort of Rajaraja Chola, made an astonishing offering in 1014, emphasised Dehejia: Gold jewellery adorned with over 10,000 pearls for Shiva and his consort. Shiva alone received 21 pieces of jewellery strung with 8,000 pearls, while Uma was adorned with 1,909 pearls across 10 ornaments.
“Even this paled in comparison to Rajaraja’s elder sister, Kundavai. Her gift, a pair of amulets for Uma, was inscribed with near-obsessive precision, detailing not just the 14 ounces of gold and 441 diamonds but every single gemstone embellishing it,” said Dehejia during her presentation. “One major reason for this obsession was the Chola passion for pearls to adorn their sacred temple bronzes,” Dehejia said.
The Cholas’ sacred temple bronzes shimmered with pearls – made possible due to their control over the Gulf of Mannar’s legendary pearl fisheries. These waters produced pearls “from tiny seed pearls to those the size of a green pea”, attracting traders from Rome to China. The Cholas meticulously documented their temple donations, including King Rajaraja 1’s staggering gift for Shiva: About “13,328 pearls, including round pearls, roundish pearls, polished pearls, and small pearls,” according to Dehejia, strung into a victory garland for the deity.
Beyond devotion and wealth, pearls were instruments of diplomacy. The Cholas sent them as a tribute to China, strengthening trade ties. They were symbols of wealth and prestige, worn not just by deities but also by royalty. As Dehejia put it: “Might one not assume that the kings, queens, and other members of the royal family themselves wore pearls?”
(Edited by Zoya Bhatti)