Nalhati - Shakti Peetha up close

Far away in remote northern Bengal, lost in the rural landscape is a small shrine to the Mother. While the representation is that of Kali Ma, the potency of the shrine hints at the ancient Shakti Peetha of Ma Sati. Indeed, not too far away from the sacred Siddha Peeth of Tarapith is the sacred shrine of Ma Nalhateshwari, at Nalhati. 

Nalhati, buried in her potency, is a small temple surrounded by a village. The main temple of Nalhati rests atop a small hill and within it, draped in hibiscus flowers and red sindur is the sacred rock of power. The name of Nalhati comes from the word "Nal" which refers to the great Mother's throat that fell here when Sati's body was destroyed by Vishnu's discus. Hence this temple houses the form of Ma Nalhateshwari.

The charm of Nalhati is the peace and the sheer lack of corruption. The priests are simple and do not mind devotees taking photographs of the Great Mother's shrine. There is Tantrik presence at this shrine for everything hints towards Kali Ma and Shiva Bhairava. The Bali peeth at the foot of this temple stands in powerful silence and in brilliant red demanding more blood for the Mother.

But what would the landscape of Nalhati have looked like in the ancient days. How could anyone have identified the potency of this sacred earth? Nalhati appears to  have been shrouded in dense jungle along the river side and at the peak of this low hill stands this rock, possibly the fossil of the Great Ma's throat. Reflecting back on the appearance of this shrine, it is a wondrous thought that apparently a stone could command such power.

When we stand at the entrance of the main shrine, its the discovery of this form that moves the heart first. Closer observation brings in the familiarity of the rules and the iconography. The red color, the long hair, the red dress that always makes the mother look like a new bride, the Trishul and the hibiscus flowers at her divine silver feet, all these  proclaim the written laws for the Goddess in the sacred text. And hence the worship is defined, that this rock should be decorated as the head of the Goddess is the rule applied, that she was most probably in ughra form brings on the features of Kali Ma. The fire rises into the air and arti is performed, the divine vision to see the Mother is granted in the light of the flames. 

While these are the familiar rules that are asserted on this stone, while the acts of divine worship are performed to seek her blessings in the method known to us, while fire and water create the sacred path to the feeble offerings we make in half hearts, how does a simple devotee touch the potency of this great shrine when we stand up so close to it in its presence?

Why do we take it for granted that the only method to get access to the divine are "acts" of worship and our mind and heart hardly have a role to play in it because the larger looming presence of time [Kala] defines the limit of our stay in her presence? While I turn my head again to the door, descending the steps of this hill, I just wondered what I really achieved after coming this far. Is this enough or if life, rules, time and family would allow, could I have stayed here longer? And if I did, how would it have made a difference to me if I had to take a dive into my spiritual self?

What am I missing that makes this trip fulfilling in the perspective of having met the divine Mother, but leaves a lacunae in my heart for hardly having spent any time with her? The divine Mother at Nalhati, Tarapith and Kalighat are as close as we can get to the sacred rock that governs the spiritual world we live in. And yet, as we rubbish away all the noise and corruption, and watch her in silence... am quite speechless thinking what next?

As the divine flames rise and the bells ring in my heart, reverberating within the hollow of my inner self, Oh Ma, I ask for forgiveness towards my shattering ignorance of not being able to recognize your potent presence.

Mysteries of a Siddhapith - Journey into Tarapith

I have never seen a more brimming tantrik locality up so close and Tarapith is in every word a land of intrigue, secrecy and divinity. With the break of day, what hits the eye is a glow of red everywhere in this busy little street that leads up to the temple. Red signifying the mother's presence in the hibiscus flowers, red in all the spiritual paraphernalia out on sale, red in the attire of the so called divine pandits who cloud the entrance to the main temple, red in the tilak or sindhur that is slapped on our foreheads and red on the walls of these ancient temples.

Tarapith is a busy little town, dirty and rural and there is just one road that leads up there from our urban world. This is the old rural Bengal, hardly visible in Kolkata though streaks of this lifestyle can be seen at Kalighat. And of course, I was well on my way to one of the most secretive locations of high tantrik activity with nothing to stop me! This was a trip I had been waiting for...for ages.

The spell of Tarapith is something different. This is the only place, to my knowledge, that potentially has no rules or restrictions. I found myself gliding into every forbidden territory without anyone stopping me. This was freedom of a different kind and believe me, for the first time I experienced the meaning of fearlessness from the tantrik perspective.

This school of thought defined by tantra, mantra and yantra that is so mystical and at the same time obvious in every Indian home is still such an undefined theory and yet so powerful. While nothing is apparent, and we do not get instant results for every ritual performed, the very power that governs the aura here doesn't leave room for doubt or the desire to test it. The green countryside of Bengal leads up to this red laden land, where every person looks at us in curiosity because we stand apart so much and in some cases, we appear to be the answer to their attempts of making a quick buck.

And I soaked myself in all this, while delighting myself with all the small ritual objects that sell in these little shops, and dipped into the traditional dish of luchi with alu torkari. It was easy to understand the first half of the visit, we just followed the crowd that led up to the temple. We crossed over the shops, bought a garland of bright red hibiscus and walked up to the main temple door to be met by a sleepy policeman who barely bothered to check us.

The only disgusting element of Tarapith was the level of corruption that beat every other place, be it Jagannath Puri, Kalighat or Lingaraj temple Bhuvaneshwar or the south. We were literally nabbed by a swarming bunch of brahmin priests with no sense of self respect or dignity. They were beggars, selling bits of mantra at a price, and that too came very cheap [Rs 10/-]. While I was a victim of this disgust, I managed to fight my irritation back and kept my focus glued to the Mother, but when the priest demanded money for just entry into the main sanctum, with no other way out of the temple, my hatred towards my race increased even more. It was so much the wrong feeling to have at the temple.

Despite the madness, despite the corruption, despite the money sucking brahmin priests who wouldn't leave our side up to the end, despite the demand for more dakshina at every step leading up to the main sanctum, the first sight of Ma Tara quite makes us forget everything. 

She is welcoming, warm and yet she is defiant of rules. She gives a feeling of freedom, seated on her throne decorated in red hibiscus flowers and at the same time has an aura of the wild depicted by the permanent circle of blood around her mouth with a lolling tongue. She is peaceful and has this power that surrounds her, she is so distant and untouched despite the chaos created by the men around her. She sits there with disheveled hair, matted locks that are so heavy and wet to touch. Her face shines in silver, with blood red sindhur always covering her forehead. Her eyes are powerful and yet there is this vast difference between our world and hers and that is so visible in her knowing smile as she watches us through this imaginary curtain of maya that separates her from us.

Truly, our worlds are so different. Ma Tara, the mysterious Goddess of the Shamshan ghat, the secret mother of the night is awake and alive at day break within this sacred shrine at Tarapith, to just remind us of this imaginary world we live in, blanketed by a web of rules.

Related post:

The silent Tara of the night - Tarapith