Kamakhya - Reliving the Kalikapurana, Questioning the Essence of Human Love

I have been careful about the Goddess kamakhya, not regarding the kind of worship that is offered to her (Kaulachara/Vamamarga) but the circumstances under which I was granted her audience. I tried twice before, and didn't make it (let's just say life came in the way), and finally it was on the eve of the pandemic that the Goddess granted me my wish. 

The first visit to Kamakhya was that of an ignorant fool, bound by some strange mysticism, who wanted to visit the temple more out of curiosity, something about her attracted me a lot. Kamakhya turned out to be the center of the plot of my 2nd book in the making, and yet I knew nothing about her. I tried hunting document libraries, picked up a lot of theory but something was still missing. I had finished the first draft of my book, and I thought I was ready to publish. I made it to her temple twice, it was rather smooth with a 1 hour wait, and very uneventful... or so I thought. But what struck me the most about this rather small temple was the depth and the darkness we go into to see her divine form in just the light of the lamp. Kamakhya blanks the mind out and we come out bewildered, and it takes some time to tune back into Samsara. It happened to me too, with a slight difference. I had just one thought in my head...read the Kalikapurana before publishing.

I took me the next 7 years to source the original transliteration and start the long journey of canvasing through 1300 pages, taking notes from an endless treatise that meticulously documents the mythological story of Sati, Parvati in her many forms, Durga, Kali, Tripurasundari and Kamakhya. An intoxicating journey to learn about the Goddess, her idiosyncrasies, the truth behind the manobhava cave, the power of her presence on the sacred mythical peak of Kamarupa. This is divine intoxication, when it takes root it doesn't go away easy. It upsets the bias, massacres past learning, challenges societal norms, decimates logic and celebrates sexual love, and showcases it pure in its original purpose... not for procreation, but for bliss, bliss from the perspective of a goddess. 

Kalikapurana is a treatise not for the weak hearted, it challenges everything that is defined as Hinduism today. It echoes the deviation we have made from the past in terms of convenience and cowardice. It demands respect and at the same time, we need to change in our minds to accept it. Kalikapurana celebrates the Vamachara path of Devi worship and it gives details that praise the Ghora form of the Goddess, and probably that adds to its perception of being infamous or being subjected to false judgement... all because the sexuality of the goddess is out on display and that is unacceptable to our current wiring. I had my moments of conflict, I still do though am a lot more accepting of it. 

I stepped into Kamakhya again, with a lot more on my agenda - theory to be validated, practices to be initiated, beliefs to be energized and love to be redefined. I was a lot more educated, driven and ready to accept as I waited through claustrophobic chambers for aprox 4.5 hours till we were granted her audience. While on one side I saw the ignorance of the many people who waited in line with me probably driven by blind faith if I may dare, I really wondered how many would have the nerve to read through the treatise and come back here humbly, after accepting its word, whether they agreed with it or not. Maybe they were better off ignorant! That is a blissful state too. 

I walked through the pillared corridor of the mandapa before we descended into the dark chamber. The temple has this haunting exterior to it, similar to that of Baital Deul in Bhubaneshwar, which hosts the Goddess Chamunda. Yes, all our instincts, our intuition tune into the heavy doses of tantric practices. Nothing wrong about it, nothing negative... of course all of this brutally driven by our limited perception, but we cannot ignore the powerful sense of tantric ideology, not just in belief but in action as well. Kamakhya, like Tarapith and Kalighat, boast of ritual animal sacrifice, which by the way are poor substitutes to the original human sacrifice, that of the self in the state of utmost devotion to the Goddess. I observed the head of two lambs and that of a healthy buffalo arranged in offerings for naivedyam with fruits for her daily meal, eyes half open. They expressed no fear in death, this after-state seemed so permanently blissful, they had passed the worst and I wondered, wasn't that supposed to be me?

The dark chamber echoed every verse of the Kalikapurana, not the ritualistic approach anymore but the very presence of the Goddess herself in her aniconic form. Oh! the poetry in the treatise is alive here, and every word  comes trues to the initiated. The secrecy of this cave is revealed to those who know and the power of the Goddess is felt in everything. I had the luck to spend a few good minutes in the chamber, the only challenge I was fighting was my mind numbing into bewilderment, while my eyes stayed wide absorbing all that they could see. Yes, the 5 senses had been propelled into action, the mind was dying its death and an overwhelming sense of divine love was taking over to feel the grace within the room. Logic succumbed, divine vision kicked in and I just gave myself up to her, I guess I did get beheaded after all!

The dim lighting, the oozing spring waters bubbling up, the quiet, mild echoes of voices, the complete darkness of the chamber, and the warm moist interior... the Manobhava Guha equivalent in the material world has as much promise to offer as its mystical counterpart. I covered her modesty with a saree that I had brought as an offering, oh! she looked so beautiful. The redness of the chamber, the asymmetrical placement of her fossilized shrine, I couldn't make the difference between blood and sindhoor mixed with water. Her ideology is alive, and brimming with life. 

I walked out into the daylight, a different person and far more educated, I had relived the Kalikapurana in all its essence. I hunted for the other shrines, that of the dasamahaviyas, as the panda pointed them out to me. I visited them to get a view of the map that made up the mystical Kamarupa to realize all the Goddess who resided here were rock formations embedded on some kind of a spring oozing water across the Nilanchal hill. If I had to remove all the hideous architecture and look at the hill in isolation, we would be presented with the unadulterated earthly Kalikapurana variant. Wow!

My trip concluded very well with a visit to the Vashishta Dham, the sacred spot where Sage Vashishta did his penance. He plays a very important part in the whole Purana, it is his curse that gave birth to the cult of Vamachara, Kaula Tantra. The ritualistic practices of Kamarupa today, which lock horns with the Samayachara way of worship, documented extensively in the Sri Vidya Tantra, make me stare at the irony - Why did Adishankara fail so miserably when he tried to undo the curse of Vashishta? Was it never meant to happen? Irony is, he expresses his deepest desire towards the Goddess describing her physical form in the Soundarya Lahari to a point that would embarrass you and me, well after he rejects the Kaula path of worship and expression of female love and refused to use his own body to understand the deeper meaning of Kamasutra, when challenged by Ubhaya Bharati (Believed to be Saraswati herself).

What a lovely puzzle to solve, in belief, in ideology, with predefined biases that stick their ugly heads out and challenge us to question... why are we so scared of expressing love, why is there so much secrecy to it, and when expressed is it really the right way or was it just human behavior that expresses carnal desire exposing human incapability to rise above animal instinct?

Do we not know any other way at all? Hmm...something to think about!

Maha Kumbh - Where the Ocean of Humanity meets the Waves of Divinity

There have been several reasons why I wanted to go for the Maha Kumbh, from wanting to see the Naga Babas upfront and experiencing their display of spiritual evolution to being a part of this grandeur that comes once in 144 years. I suppose it had caught everyone’s imagination. This was not marketing or the desperation to be seen on a social media post that says “I did it” … no, this was just a deep calling, to brave the mass of humanity and set my foot on divine earth and be a part of this spectacular astronomical event. 

There was a difference between this journey and the others I made in the past; while I would normally be excited about a trip, this time for some reason, my stomach churned. We planned every day meticulously and booked our tickets, which by the way was surprisingly cheaper given we decided to enter the holy city of Prayagraj from Lucknow, and not the usual direct flight or from Varanasi, as the prices were way past budget. Our brief stay at Lucknow was uneventful, gearing us up for what lay ahead. I immersed myself in the splendid architecture of Bada Imambada (another check on my bucket list), built by Nawab Asaf-ud-Daula, literally getting lost in the labyrinth and subsequently discovering a step well which isn’t a regular feature in Islamic architecture specially in Uttar Pradesh. To give you a brief, Bada Imambada is a mausoleum that host one of the grandest labyrinths on its roof, the only other one apart from the labyrinth at Dualatabad Fort, Aurangabad, more commonly called the Bhool Bhulaiya. India boasts of 2 labyrinths in architecture and interestingly both are in the realm of Indo-Islamic architecture with Persian design. With 1024 passages leading into each other out of which only 24 are right and with 4 passages at every intersection, where only one is right, it was a marvel of Indo-Islamic architecture to experience the darkness of a labyrinth and practically get lost, till we were “found” and taken back to the terrace of the mausoleum to see the setting sun before the big day ahead. 

We exited Lucknow at 3:30 am to catch the highway to Prayagraj, as the news on the ground indicated that private vehicles wouldn’t be allowed to enter the city, given it was a weekend. Our meticulously planned “Plan A” was very quickly dysfunctional and “Plan B” was formulated and improvised upon as we went along. I still remember the driver telling me, “You won’t be the only one with this plan”, and sure enough we had driven 6 hours straight into the ocean of humanity that headed towards the holy city, inch by inch. With the mercury rising and sweltering heat taking over the day, and clouds of fine dust coming to rest on the packed roads with vehicles of all sizes, there was a single agenda that took everyone to the holy city - the blessings of the sacred dip at the confluence of the rivers. It was close to noon when we reached the highway just outside Prayagraj and the traffic was at standstill, the city was closed and barricaded and we knew, we had to go by foot from here. Packing out backpacks with essentials to last us a couple of days, and leaving our roller boards behind in the car, we asked the police the way and started our long trek into the city. Google maps indicated that the river was 7-8 kms away, the Sangam was 12 kms and our hotel was another 12 in a different direction. With practically no plan in mind, but possibly get to the hotel first, we decided to make our next move on foot. 

It wasn’t very long, when we were interrupted by 3 bikers eagerly wanting to know if we wanted a ride to the Ganga Ghat. It seemed to be the easiest thing to do, given, we didn’t have any other plan in mind. Having negotiated the price, we hopped on, and drove past the mad traffic, through by-lanes, till we came to the vast shores of what promised to be the long stretch of land leading up to the river. We walked for approximately 6 kms, following the direction of the crowd, everybody walked, young and old, rich and poor, small and big, thin and fat, urban and rural, men, women and children, north Indians and south Indians, dhoties and shorts, ghoonghats and jeans, caps and pagdis, slippers and bare feet, groups and loners, all of humanity braving the rising clouds of dust that led up to the river. Some were even more interesting, groups that walked with ropes held between the first and last person, fortifying their families within their mobile boundaries, and lone young women who braved the winds leading the way for their aged parents with the thin lifeline of a rope not to separate them… as the mass of humanity purposefully moved towards the river. The occasional doubt of losing our way was put to rest frequently by the pure logic of “follow the crowd” to get to our destination. 

And there she was, the sacred Goddess, Ma Ganga, in all her splendor, washing the shores with her gentle silted waters. We had finally reached the Ghats. We couldn’t hear the hunger pounding in our stomach, we couldn’t feel the dust gently resting on our faces, we couldn’t hear the crowd in the silence, we couldn’t feel the prick of stones on her soft sands, no… the mind had come to rest, silence overpowered us as we came to find our spot in the hay covered banks of the Ganges river, which by the way was a great idea, our feet were not muddy at all! 

We took turns to take our dip, 7 dips for our past karmas, our ancestors, our many births, for our sacred cleansing, and to connect to the divine as her gentle cold waters gracefully brushed over us, covering us completely as we immersed ourselves in her world. The beauty of the sacred dip is to close all orifices of the human body and immerse oneself in the sacred waters that flows by. It is a state of near death that we achieve when we do this, detaching from all that exists around us, staying in the silence of her depths, eyes closed into darkness, to feel the void, and be there, covering for all our births, to finally merge with the Goddess spiritually, losing the physical body in which our soul has travelled miles to get here. It is also the strong belief system that has lasted many centuries fortified by undying faith, that this mass of humanity is driven by when we reach her shores, where we discard our bias towards each other, our discrimination, our ego, our sorrows, our difference… it doesn’t matter, I am you, you are me, we are one with the supreme. 

Stepping out of the water and watching the sun’s reflection dance across her waves, was a brilliant experience with no people to see in her vast expanse that flowed in front of me. The waters were clean, no floating plastic, no coke bottles or chips packets, no paper or garbage, but just an occasional Diya with divine light bobbing in her waves before it got consumed. The riverbed was soft with silt, and her shores were shallow to a great distance, to enable us to walk deeper into her depths while a rope drew the boundaries that we shouldn’t cross, though two boats with lifeguards kept vigil on the oncoming crowds. I had kept a bag of sacred sand from the shores of Dhanushkodi, Rameshwaram which I had worshipped at the southern tip of India in the form of a Shiva linga, way back 10+ years ago. The sacred sands finally found their way into the waters of the Ganges at Prayagraj, at the Sangam, merging with her waters. No one told us to move on, no one asked for space, to each his own, and I made my way back to the shore, at peace, satisfied with the first successful outcome of the “planned” journey as we made our way back on a long trek to get to the hotel. 

We walked up a few kilometers, watching traffic at standstill, thanking the Gods that we were on foot, till we got another group of bikes who were willing to take us through the inner quiet localities of Prayagraj. The evening was largely quiet in contemplation of what had unfolded through the day as we planned for what lay ahead. Early in the morning, Prayagraj continued to burst with the river of people relentlessly making their way into the city. We were discouraged to walk up to the Sangam given the lack of local transport to take us there as well as the distances to be covered. Taking an e-Rickshaw to the “Boat Club”, we drove past really narrow lanes, avoiding all the traffic, but to the ire of local people whose peace was constantly disturbed by an occasional vehicle whizzing past their doorstep to only get stuck within their narrow streets. None-the-less, getting a view of the inner lanes of Prayagraj felt a little like Alice in Wonderland. 

We finally reached the shores of the Yamuna River, walking right into the hands of boat men who offered us a ride. It felt like a miracle, to be able to get this far, to reach the shores of the great river Yamuna. My apprehensions were quickly put to rest when they didn’t overload the boat and each of us was given a life jacket. We rode into the blue waters of the swelling river, viewing the many others who were jostling by, everyone headed in the same direction or returning. The mela showcased its flamboyance on both sides of its banks with temples, people, tents, lifeguards, floating medical centers, historical forts et all. The grandeur of the mela was on display, its immense size was a visual treat, the impossible exhibited itself. This was the Maha Kumbh, brimming with energy, an ocean of people, single purpose of millions, reviving the sanctity of Hinduism, the power behind this faith that still stands as a testament that this faith still has its very strong roots in its people despite time, despite hate, despite attempts at anarchy, despite the changing mindset of generations.

The rivers flowed, in the vast expanse of water the currents could be felt in the ripples of the Yamuna, a far more agile river compared to the Ganges who displayed grace along her shores while the mystical Saraswati remained concealed deep within. The noon sunlight was welcoming, the heart was excited in anticipation, as we bounced on the waves towards the celebrated Sangam, the sacred nose, where both the divine rivers converge. The blue Yamuna meets the silt loaded Ganges, in a vast expanse of water, dotted with a million boats with orange flags signifying Hindu spirituality fluttering in the wind as the boats raced towards the Sangam. We parked by the land mass, hopping over boats to descend into the shallow waters of the Sangam. 7 more dips to paradise, and another accomplishment achieved while we played around in the water. Back in our fresh clothes after few more dips in the chilling water, with a very contented heart filled with reverence for the Gods, thanking fate and breathing a sigh of relief, we gratefully sailed back to shore. We moved past the swirl at the Sangam, the point where Ganges merges into Yamuna, where the currents shift ever more forcefully tossing boats away into calmer waters. It was a quiet ride back, with silence across the boat, contemplative and overwhelmed, we just watched the grandeur of Prayagraj go by, in silence and in awe.

The Kumbh Mela, is the display of the throbbing culture of Hindu faith and belief, it is an overwhelming moment that gives something back to every seeker who comes to take a dip in the sacred waters. It is a congregation of spiritual masters, an ocean of spiritual knowledge that brings even the non-believer to her shores. The Kumbh Mela is a treasure trove of the past on display, to be experienced individually in vibrant manifestations of spiritual grace.

What a spectacular Shivaratri with Jal from the Triveni Sangam!!!

Har Har Mahadev!