Khajuraho – A Sham or Glory? The Hidden Truth Behind India’s Most Scandalous Temples And a Must Visit UNESCO World Heritage Site

Let's dwell into the Tantric philosophy behind these carvings, arguing that they symbolize the journey from desire to spiritual liberation. It also highlights how colonial morality distorted India’s perception of its own past, turning Khajuraho into a subject of shame rather than pride.
Despite being a UNESCO World Heritage Site, Khajuraho faces conservative censorship today, with some calling for the removal of its erotic imagery. However, the essay asserts that these temples represent a time when India celebrated the human experience in its entirety—without shame or suppression.
Ultimately, the essay concludes that Khajuraho is not a sham but a glorious testament to a fearless civilization that embraced both devotion and desire. The real question is—does modern India have the courage to reclaim this legacy?

In the heart of Madhya Pradesh, where history breathes through the ruins of dynasties, stands Khajuraho—one of India's most enigmatic heritage sites. A cluster of temples, famed not for their spiritual sermons but for the raw, unapologetic depiction of human sensuality. The very land that birthed the ascetic traditions of Hinduism and Buddhism also sculpted these immortalized scenes of passion on stone. How did this paradox come into existence? Is Khajuraho a shameful relic of a forgotten past, or is it an unparalleled artistic triumph?

For centuries, these temples have oscillated between reverence and condemnation. British officers saw them as an abomination; moralists often whisper that they are an embarrassing blot on India’s sacred architectural legacy. Yet, art historians, archaeologists, and seekers of truth argue that Khajuraho represents a golden era of liberated thought—a civilization unafraid of desire and divinity coexisting.

So, is Khajuraho a sham—a stain on Indian culture that prudish morality wishes to erase? Or is it a glory—an exquisite testament to India's fearless exploration of human and divine love?

The temples of Khajuraho were constructed between the 10th and 12th centuries by the Chandela dynasty, a Rajput clan that ruled central India. The Chandelas were known for their military prowess, administrative efficiency, and deep patronage of art and culture. Unlike other Rajput rulers who were drawn into endless battles against foreign invaders, the Chandelas focused on nurturing a society where spirituality, sensuality, and the arts flourished in harmony.

But why would a powerful ruling class commission temples depicting erotic sculptures? One explanation lies in the philosophy of Tantra, a spiritual path that embraces the physical world—including sexuality—as a means to attain liberation. Unlike later interpretations of Hinduism that leaned towards asceticism, Tantra viewed the body as sacred, desire as divine, and sensuality as a gateway to the cosmos.

Khajuraho, therefore, was not merely a center of worship but a profound architectural representation of human existence—where devotion and desire were not seen as enemies but as allies on the path to enlightenment.

The most scandalous aspect of Khajuraho is, without a doubt, its intricate erotic carvings. Figures entwined in passionate embraces, depictions of group intimacy, acrobatic feats of lovemaking, and even scenes that defy contemporary societal norms—every inch of these sculptures challenges the viewer’s perception of Indian tradition.

But are these carvings merely erotic, or do they hold a deeper meaning?

The Metaphor of Moksha – Some scholars believe that the outer walls of Khajuraho depict worldly life, including sexuality, as a necessary experience before entering the sanctum, where spiritual awakening awaits. This aligns with Hindu philosophy, which categorizes life into four pursuits: Dharma (duty), Artha (wealth), Kama (desire), and Moksha (liberation). One must experience the first three before attaining the fourth.

The Power of Creation – Hinduism does not see creation and destruction as separate. Sexuality, in this context, is not just about pleasure but about the divine energy that fuels creation itself. The figures carved into Khajuraho’s walls are not just bodies in motion; they are expressions of cosmic energy manifesting in human form.

The Post-Islamic Interpretation – It was only after the Islamic invasions of India that a rigid separation between spirituality and sexuality took hold. The temples of Khajuraho, built before these invasions, represent a pre-colonial, pre-Victorian India—one that was unashamed of its body, its desires, and its spirituality.
When the British discovered Khajuraho in the 19th century, their reaction was one of shock and disgust. Victorian sensibilities could not comprehend an ancient civilization that celebrated eroticism so openly. Many British officers attempted to downplay its significance, labeling the sculptures as “depraved” and questioning the moral fabric of the Indian past.

The Christian missionaries who arrived in India during this time went a step further. They actively condemned Khajuraho as a temple of sin, attempting to discredit its artistic and cultural value. Even many Indians, by then heavily influenced by British morality, began seeing Khajuraho through the same lens—ashamed of what had once been considered sacred.

This colonial narrative still lingers today. Many Indian school textbooks make little to no mention of the erotic sculptures of Khajuraho. Guided tours often rush past the sensual carvings, focusing instead on the architectural brilliance of the temples. The truth is, India is still struggling to reclaim the unapologetic embrace of love, art, and divinity that Khajuraho once symbolized.

Today, Khajuraho faces two battles—one against the ravages of time and another against selective preservation. While international historians recognize it as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, conservative voices within India question its relevance.

Some demand that the more explicit sculptures be censored or even removed, arguing that they misrepresent Indian culture. Ironically, the real misrepresentation lies in the attempt to erase them. To censor Khajuraho is to erase an essential chapter of India’s artistic and spiritual history—a time when the human experience was celebrated in its entirety, without shame or suppression.

Khajuraho is not a sham. It is glory—an eternal monument to a civilization that dared to explore the sacredness of desire, the beauty of the body, and the divine within the physical world. It stands as a powerful counterpoint to modern hypocrisies, where sexuality is commodified but never celebrated, where desire is commercialized but rarely understood.

Far from being an embarrassment, Khajuraho is a beacon—a reminder of a time when India led the world in fearless artistic expression, unshackled by colonial guilt or moral policing.

To dismiss Khajuraho as a scandalous anomaly is to betray our past. To embrace it is to reclaim a legacy that is neither prudish nor perverse, but profoundly human.

The question is not whether Khajuraho is a sham or glory. The question is—do we have the courage to accept the truth it represents?