I first visited Cambodia when my daughter was just a toddler, barely two years old. Back then, her tiny footsteps might not have left much of an impression on the journey—or so she claimed when she later dismissed that trip as not counting. That was all the encouragement we needed to pack our bags and return to Cambodia, this time for a "now and then" photo adventure!
The moment we landed at Phnom Penh airport, our guide whisked us off to the majestic Royal Palace. And what a sight it was! The Royal Palace of Phnom Penh isn’t just a structure; it’s a living, breathing canvas of Cambodia’s rich history and artistry—a place where the soul of the nation seems to echo in every gilded spire and ornate carving. As we explored the sprawling complex, including the famed Silver Pagoda, my attention was irresistibly drawn to the murals. The walls seemed alive with stories—stories I knew but told in a way that felt refreshingly new. For someone from India, discovering these vibrant murals depicting the Ramayana, or the "Reamker" as it’s known here, was a moment of pure delight.
There it was, the ancient epic that had accompanied my childhood, transformed and celebrated in a land thousands of miles away. These murals, stretching across the Silver Pagoda complex, were more than just art; they were a cultural bridge. Each stroke of color, each scene meticulously painted, spoke of a shared heritage, embraced and reimagined by the Cambodian people.
As an Indian traveler, my first encounter with the murals was like meeting an old friend in a new attire. The familiar faces of Rama, Sita, Hanuman, and Ravana leaped from the walls, rendered in a style that is distinctly Cambodian. The bright, intricate colours and the flowing lines of Khmer art breathe life into the story, transporting the viewer to a realm where gods and demons clash amidst lush forests and golden palaces. Yet, these familiar tales are infused with local flavors, creating a narrative that is both recognizable and refreshingly novel.
The sheer scale and detail of the murals are awe-inspiring. Spanning hundreds of meters, the artwork tells the story of the Ramayana in a continuous, vivid panorama. Each panel is a masterpiece, meticulously crafted to capture the essence of the epic’s characters and their journeys. The depiction of Hanuman, for instance, reflects his exuberance and valour, yet his form and expressions carry a Khmer sensibility, with ornate headdresses and stylized movements.
The Cambodian artists’ interpretation of Ravana (or Krong Reap, as he is called in the Reamker) is another highlight. His multiple heads and arms are rendered with a fearsome symmetry, surrounded by a halo of flames that signifies his power and menace. These visual details not only elevate the storytelling but also immerse the viewer in the mythic grandeur of the epic.
Furthermore, while Indian versions of the Ramayana often focus on Rama (called Preah Ream in the Reamker) as the ideal man and king—an avatar of Vishnu—the Reamker presents him as a more human figure, emphasizing his personal struggles and dilemmas. The episode of Sita’s return to Rama is a crucial juncture where the Cambodian Ramayana diverges significantly from the Indian versions. In Valmiki’s Ramayana and other Indian renditions, Sita’s chastity is questioned upon her return. To prove her purity, she undergoes a trial by fire (agnipariksha). While Sita emerges unscathed, affirming her fidelity, this event is laden with emotional and moral complexity, often highlighting societal expectations and Rama’s adherence to dharma as a ruler over personal sentiments. In the Reamker, this episode is reimagined with a more compassionate resolution. Sita’s purity is not questioned to the same extent, and her reunion with Rama is marked by mutual love and forgiveness rather than public scrutiny.
What struck me most is the seamless fusion of Indian and Cambodian elements in the murals. The Ramayana’s narrative structure—its themes of duty, loyalty, and the triumph of good over evil—remains intact. Yet, the settings, costumes, and even certain characterizations are distinctly Cambodian. The golden spires of Angkor Wat-like temples replace the Ashokavana of Lanka, and the attire of the characters reflects the traditional Khmer styles.
This synthesis of cultures speaks volumes about the historical exchange between India and Cambodia. The Ramayana arrived in Southeast Asia centuries ago through trade, religious missions, and political connections, and it was embraced not merely as a tale but as a living tradition reimagined to resonate with Cambodian values and aesthetics.
Walking along the mural-lined walls, I could not help but feel a deep emotional connection. For an Indian, the Ramayana is more than just a story; it is a cultural cornerstone, a narrative that shapes values and identity. To see it celebrated in such grandeur thousands of kilometres away, reinforced the universality of the epic’s themes and its ability to transcend geographical and cultural boundaries.
The murals evoke awe, pride, and an irresistible sense of connection, making the visit not just a visual delight but a deeply enriching experience. They are a reminder of India’s enduring cultural influence, of how its stories have travelled across oceans and centuries to inspire and find new expression in distant lands. At the same time, they inspire admiration for Cambodia’s ability to make the epic its own, integrating it into its national heritage with such artistry and devotion. The murals are not just art; they are a historical chronicle. Their weathered surfaces bear the marks of time, yet they continue to radiate beauty and meaning. Efforts to restore and preserve these masterpieces underline their importance as cultural treasures, not only for Cambodia but for the shared heritage of the region.
The battle between Preah Ream and Krong Reap
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