Showing posts with label shakti. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shakti. Show all posts

9.19.2016

Love in Spiritualism - Unconditional or Sensual?

The term "love" has many depictions in the scriptures, from rapturous sensuality as a form of expression to divine intoxication. The celestial being in our scriptures have either risen to the pinnacle of devotion or they have plummeted into the abyss of sexual satiation. Either way this emotion in its many forms makes or breaks a sadhak's spiritual endeavor. 

Love stems out of chemistry in gross terms and that's possibly the most mundane animal tendency we can see in ourselves. So blinding is the emotion that we as humans, have practically failed to look beyond it. But if and when we do get the chance to transcend this state and move to the next level, the definition of love changes drastically for good. 

Some call it Neela Madhava Bhava, others call it Madhura bhava, I some how relate to Neela Madhava Bhava a lot more. This is a state when love becomes unconditional, where bhakti takes over and rules the emotions. This is when love is not equated with gross sensuality but its a different high, that works more in the mind of course fed by emotion. It has nothing to do with physical attraction but the effect is far more intense in the mind, and lasts longer... possibly for good. 

Neela madhava bhava can be expressed to a celestial being in abstraction, to an idol representing that abstraction within a temple or quite simple to another human being who expresses similar state of mind. This bhava is beyond relationship, beyond rules and so free is its nature that it culminates in unconditional love towards others. Ramprasad Sen, a great poet and tantrik practitioner of his time went through this emotion in great depth, so much so that he practically prayed to Ma Kali to help him seek others who related to her divinity the same way.  

Many misunderstand Kaula tantra as an art form of love. To the uninitiated it may look like a potential orgy, but to the seeker the experience is way beyond words. When one sadhak goes through divine intoxication and relates to another sadhak with a similar mindset, the interaction is potentially that of Shiva and Shakthi, Krishna and Radha, but with one difference - There is complete detachment and yet there is extreme love and there is no sensuality in the picture. Love is a strong emotion that takes both the aspirants through, the gross bodies don't unite but the minds are in union. What results from the interaction is a higher state of bliss, in the mind and in consciousness.

Spiritualism is potent and as much as it offers such fantastic experiences to the mind, and soul it asks the physical body to have self restraint. The earthly definitions of love fall flat in the spiritual space. Attachment, ownership, pride and low grade orgasms have no place in this world. This world is beyond known imagination of love that has been peddled as a great experience, of the gross kind. In the spiritual space, this emotion starts with surrender, deep and pure surrender with no doubts. And when the Gods act on it, they speak to us, through events, through thoughts and through Neela Madhava Bhava.

ललाटचत्वरज्वलद्धनञ्जयस्फुलिङ्गभा
निपीतपञ्चसायकं नमन्निलिम्पनायकम् |
सुधामयूखलेखया विराजमानशेखरं
महाकपालिसम्पदेशिरोजटालमस्तु नः ||६||



- Ravana Tandava Shlokam (Wikipedia)


May we get the wealth of Siddhis from Śiva's locks of hair, 
which devoured the God of Love with the sparks of the fire flaming in His forehead, 
who is bowed by all the celestial leaders, 
who is beautiful with a crescent moon

Its time we unleashed that lesser known emotion to get the best of its potential. We are truly capable of a lot more, we need to believe we are ready for this new wave of emotion, for once it engulfs us, its a flood gate to heaven... in a spiritual space. Remember, even Kama had to be burned in the fire of enlightenment, he didn't survive the intensity of the great Lord Shiva himself. 

12.21.2010

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:

10.04.2010

Analogy of the Tree of Life

The Tree of Life was first planted by Asoka as the backbone on which his edicts were inscribed, a code of conduct that engraved the principles of dharma presented for evolved living to the common man. Back then, the earth was dug open ceremoniously with great honor and respect, and a pot with pure water was laid inside it signifying the cosmic ocean over which this great stone edict was hoisted. With this started a new beginning, faith was reborn and the principles of good living were declared to the masses.

This was how Asoka had envisioned it, during the birth of the Buddhist era. The pot signifies the constant presence of the cosmic ocean, undying and enriching, sustaining all of life that flourishes across this land. This principle never died and through these ages, it took shape in different ways across regions. Hinduism adopted the essence of this principle, and extended the philosophy of water cosmology not just into its temples and art forms but into is life style and ritual as well.

Temples boasted this principle along their walls. The Bhiti [walls] was an elaborate canvas that displayed great Gods in their iconic representations seated or standing within their niches. The tree of life has been depicted as an elaborate decorative pot oozing with the cosmic waters supporting all of life, life that was blessed by the divine parent Lord Shiva and Parvati. These pillared examples, depicted deities as well as architectural structures that rose out of this pot of cosmic water.

Ritual brings out this very same principle by representing all of divinity in the sacred waters of the pot that is the main deity, pulsating with life during the course of the ritual. The Kalasha, brimming with sacred water, capped by mango leaves, signifying the king of all trees, holds a coconut in the center which in reality holds water within itself, signifying the larger principle of the tree of life rising out of its natural cosmic waters. 


These various representations of the tree of life, celebrate the miracle of life in Hindu mythology as the birth of Brahma in the center of tender lotus petals that bloom out of the navel of Lord Vishnu who floats in the cosmic ocean. This deep rooted law of life, curiously depicted by Lord Vishnu and Brahma is a representation of life as we see it in reality within the womb of the mother. The womb is the shell within which lies the cosmic waters, self generated miraculously by Shakti to house the unborn, the pulsating tree of life that is floats in this ocean, sustained by the lotus stem of the umbilical chord.

And then... the pot breaks, transitioning life from one realm into the next. The waters of the sacred Kalasha are sprinkled all over the house and its respective family members, as it soaks them in its divine blessings and transitions them to evolved living symbolically. In reality, the mother delivers her new born into this world transitioning it towards the next realm amidst much pain.

But all pots breaking may not result in happy endings, though they depict transition from one realm to a different realm. This is another journey to be done, another transition to be crossed. When life has come its full way, and all the waters of life drain out of the physical body, what remains behind is the corpse that awaits it final journey. Be it burial or be it cremation, the dead lie facing north/south and the final rites are performed.

Three rounds of circum-ambulation depict the transition of consciousness from one state to the next. With each round, a hole is punched into an unburnt earthen pot that releases this precious cosmic water that flows out gently around the dead, signifying the cosmic ocean at the center of which they lie asleep, awaiting to be woken up into the next realm. With the third hole punched, all of the cosmic waters are released, signifying the opening of the third eye of the dead for an enlightening journey ahead to the next world. With this life in our reality moves on and the pot now empty is broken to transition the soul to the next realm.

This journey doesn’t end here, for it is blessed with the glorious representation of the inner truth of the immortality of life, celebrating the journey of the soul in the presence of the trinity at this hour. A simple earthen clay pot carries much significance in the ritual representation of this transition of the soul, be it in the echoes of the sacred Asoka edicts or be it the loud cries of a mother in labor, life is born again.

Also of interest:

Photo courtesy: Kerala Murals

6.29.2010

Glow in the fire of eternal bliss.


There is darkness all around, stillness and nothing can be seen or heard. There is just space, void and all I can feel is the thin breath passing through my being. I am like a moth, that awaits the light that glows, to dance its last dance of love with the flames of love, to dissolve in its essence.

The fire is alive in this sweet chamber, the rocky walls have been washed clean. The fragrance of fresh wet earth covers this room and the fire dances like a million flames on the textured rocky surface. The air is so quiet, the ambiance so still and yet there is this pounding heart within me that ceases to stop its beat.

At the center of this space, is this well of potency that rises to awaken this chamber. Sweet white jasmine flowers fall, fragrance of incense cloud this small room and in this mystical world I view His presence, dressed and and adorned in sacred precious stones.

He sits here on his throne, on a seat decked with blooming jasmine flowers, so white and pure, like the very blooming bud like eyes of His divine consort. White silks adorn his stony self as the great snake protects Him with its hood.

Sacred Vivla leaves garland his being, like a majestic wreath, a crown around His head, proclaiming him the ever present, the Lord of the world, who is eternal, who never ends, who never dies. And in this ambiance, do I dance, with this single flame, that lights this room, my fire of enlightenment that teases me through this life.

The power of the being, the power of devotion, the power within one self - this strange magnetism I feel, this strange heat that rises within me, burn my heart in His presence. In this graceful dance of love, do I forget that world outside, do I forget that chaos, do I forget that dense cloud of illusion that threatens to swallow me into its world.

I am the luminous, I am that which glows on its own. I am that light, that doesn't need your knowledge to realize that I am there, ever present in this chamber. I am real, for its not your realization of my presence that gives me my life. I was always here, I am always here, I will always be here. Do you realize sweet friend, the meaning of these sacred words that make me far more real and alive and immortal than the world outside?

I burn in these flames, but I shall not perish. I am but one among these million flames, these million lights that light up this room, worshiping the Lord every day, every time, in every breath. I am no longer a perception in your mind, I am pure energy, life, fire that glows beside the Lord for you to realize that there is another world out here, far more potent and far more real than that world outside.

3.30.2010

Ritual worship of Lord Shiva

Gupt Kashi, a small temple way up on the Himalayan foothills has this quaint little temple attributed to Lord Shiva Ardhanrishwara. The sculpture of the Lord and his consort is charming and the entire ambience plays into the tunes of folk music and is in line with the heavens. A dozen women roll on with the dholak and the folk songs that reverberate through the walls of this temple. The marijuana stoned sadhus at the entrance as against the household simple women singing inside, it was a strange view to see the rebellious world live in parallel with the conformist at the door step of the Lord.

What was really enchanting was a small Shiva linga not measuring more than both my palms put together, that sat right in front at the foot of Nandi who carried the divine couple on His back. What was so unique about this Linga? On the face of it, the linga was fantastically chiseled, made of stone and ravaged a little by time, yet it carried on its contours the sharp lines that pronounced every head that made up its central Lingam.

Yes, beautiful and elegantly carved out of stone and delivering a presence that either matched or overpowered the large idol of Ardhanarishwara Shiva, this linga was truly unique and divine to look at. Commonly known as a Chatura Mukha linga based on the canons of Indian art, this linga sports four heads so handsome in appearance with jatas rolling down on all sides. Seated on its square peetham, this Linga brought back the ancient verses penned down ages ago by Thirumular, one of the greatest Tamil poets known in ancient Indian history.

LINGAM'S NINE ASPECTS
Tantra 7, 1777
               
"Shiva linga has 9 aspects
Brahma, Vishnu, Maheshwara, Rudra form the lower aspect
Shiva of the 5 faces, Bindu, Nada, Shakti and Shiva"

As Thirumular explains, the Shiva linga has 9 aspects to itself. The lower aspect that makes up the Chatura mukha linga comprises of Brahma, Vishnu, Rudra and Maheshwara represented by the four perfectly chiseled faces while the upper aspect is made up of Sadashiva [Shiva of the 5 faces], Shakti, Nada, Bindu and Shiva.

THE FORM, FORMLESS, FORM-FORMLESS ASPECTS OF SHIVA
Tantra 7, 1811


"Shakti, Shiva, Nada, Bindu are the formless aspect
Sadashiva is the form/formless, unmoving aspect
Brahma, Vishnu, Rudra, Maheshwara are the form aspects"

The Shiva linga is structurally comprised of the 9 aspects of the Great Lord, however  as the heart sinks into the very form of it, the realization that I, the human being, the matter that breaths here and now is a moving potent Shiva temple on my own. All these aspects of the Lord lie dormant within me to be awoken from this deep slumber called life.

SOUL IS SHIVA LINGA
Tantra 7, 1823

For the gracious Lord
The heart is the sanctum
The fleshy body is the temple vast
The mouth is the tower gate
to them that discern
Jeeva is shiva linga
The deceptiv senses are but the light that illumines.

To the gracious Lord I pray! My heart is the inner sanctum that is so pure and so fragile that it is housed within this body that makes up this temple I call myself. The mouth is the towering Gopuram, the Gateway that leads to this sacred sanctum and that which keeps me alive is the Jeeva, the essence of life and of Shivahood. I am the light, illuminated by my own senses that keep this darkness of ignorance away when I realize the potency of my very own presence here and now.

ADORE THE LORD AND BEHOLD HIM
Tantra 7, 1826

you can think of him
you can speak his truth
but rarely can you see his holy feet
Only they can see his holy feet
who adore him with flower and water.

I am a part of Him; He is in my mind always, here and now. He rules my soul, my heart and my mind, for my thoughts revolve around Him. I speak what i know, but I dont know enough because this truth intrigues me so. I am but a willing slave in his arms, ready to listen to every pearl of wisdom that comes rolling to me in this sea of events that form my life. But when will I be blessed to see his divine feet, to feel the pulse of his presence? I pray in this hope, every waking hour with flowers and water asking him to awaken me from the dense ignorance of which I am a helpless part.

CELESTIALS WORSHIP THE LORD WITH ARCHANA
Tantra7, 1827

Why is it that the lord has taken his seat
in the hearts of the celestial beings
who bare the consecrated water
and the garland of flowers
They humbly prostrate in worship offering
the lord 5 sweet dishes and 16 upachara rituals
 
I try so hard, and yet he shows me no mercy, am I cursed to be born such? Why is every prayer of mine, every abhishekam and every japa that I so willingly sing in his name, falling short? And yet I see him choose the Heart of the celestials to reside. Because they so beautifully pray in all humility to Him with consecrated water,   garlands of beautiful perfumed flowers, and sweets that would please him.  To be blessed by him in return.

NANDI PLANTED HIS FEET ON ME AND IMPARTED GRACE
Tantra 7 verse 1818

This birth I took
these impurities I bear
He dispels off this maya cloud
You are rid of these
so saying this he places his feet over my head
and I gave up all my unworthy knowledge
I prostrated at his feet and prayed

And yet I tirelessly pray, knowing well that I shall win his grace someday when he places his divine feel over my head to pale the worthless knowledge from my mind.
He will fill me with divine knowledge, sacred ambrosia of a different kind to make changes in my current life, in this form, in this time and as I see these events unravel, I bow to Him with overwhelming emotion, true everlasting bliss that lasts beyond this state, beyond this life, beyond this being.

11.24.2009

The essence of Shiva Bhairava

Look up to the bright sky and train your eyes to see the brightness in it, you will notice the faint clouds that glow even brighter in that light. Look up to the sun for a few seconds and maintain the gaze even in the brightness, you will notice it is round and glowing even more. Keep silent and close all your sense faculties and kill all the noise around you and you will realize the primordial sound OM grows within you.
This is Bhairava, This is Shiva, This is prana.

Prana, as beautifully described in the Vigyana Bhairava Tantra, is not the breath that goes in and out, but the eternal space that can be felt between any two breaths. Prana is not the air we breathe but it is the energy or life that is generated by the constant vibration between any two breaths. This is where OM is felt.
This is defined as Bhairava, This is defined as Shiva, This is Prana.

The human self is described most poetically; we are but a lotus plant, whose stem is blue on the outside and red on the inside. We are but a lotus plant whose stem is the channel through which Shakti flows upwards to meet her Shiva at the seat of consciousness. We are but a lotus plant immersed in the waters of Maya but enlightened at the epitome of our consciousness - the thousand petal form.
This consciousness is Bhairava, this feeling of bliss is Shiva.


When your senses shiver and your mind becomes still, and when you quiver, feel this bliss. When you practice love in the ritual of union feel the quivering of your senses like the wind in the leaves. You will feel ecstatic love. At the start of this union, be in the fire of this energy released by intimate sensual pleasure. Merge into Shakti, burn in this space but avoid the ashes in the end. Feel your substance, your bones, your flesh and your blood saturated with cosmic energy.
This is Bhairavam this is Shiva, this is supreme bliss


There is beauty in the emptiness of space devoid of trees, hills or dwellings. There is poetry in the fire of life that burns all illusion to death. I see the entire world burn as a blazing inferno and when all turns to ash, I feel this space that envelopes me, I feel the entire universe dissolving into subtler form until it merges into pure consciousness.
This is Bhairava, Thihs is Shiva, This is prana.

Waves are born in the ocean and dissolve in the ocean itself, flames are born out of fire and dissolve in this fire of life. The sun appears in the sky and fades into the sky itself. The self rises in the realm of knowledge and energy and slowly being deprived of it, dissolves into itself revealing to us our true being.
This essence of subtle life is Bhairava, is Shiva, is Prana.

10.06.2009

Maya, an Integral part of Shakti

Vaishno Devi Shrine

The Thirumanthiram quotes:


"From thence evoluted Maya
Latent in Shakti like lustre in crystal
Mighty its power
Beyond power of speech to recount."

There is such beauty in this line. Isn't it our perception that rules us more than what really exists in reality?

This is a small example of how our own perception can imprison us into this web of Maya that we make judgments based on our own futile ignorance. I visited the doctor recently for a minor checkup. As I discussed about my ailment to the doctor, I noticed a skull kept high up on the wall that immediately took my fascination. I requested the doctor to allow me to hold the skull in my hand. It was an amazing feeling, to hold something so remote, so feared, and so repulsed. I looked closely at it and imagined myself at a shamshan ghat holding the same thing by night, near the fire and sprinkling mantras to the air calling the Goddess Kali to my doorstep. I smiled and kept it back.

When we reached home later, I raised this subject with my mother, who had also visited the clinic with me. She seemed very comfortable with me holding this skull in my hand at the clinic, but she had no idea about my thoughts :). I asked her the question again. It was so peaceful, and so harmless to hold this skull in the doctor's office. But if I had worn an orange or red outfit, smeared large amounts of Kumkum on my forehead, held this very same skull in my hand in the darkest of nights at a different location, a shamshan ghat for example, and done nothing else, how would she have reacted to it? It was equally harmless there too, and I am calling no Goddess or indulging in any malevolent practice and yet I would have looked deadly, scary and mystically more powerful than ever.

Isn't this perception? Isn't this the description of a mind working overtime, with biased information already fed in; that anyone in this attire in this time of the night holding such objects is "evil" or "scary" and better off left alone? But should I walk into a doctor's office and wear simple clothes and a much smaller Kumkum, in light, I would appear so much more friendly! And yet... the "I" is missing in both these perceptions.

None of these two perceptions describes my personality. None of these two perceptions looks at me the human being and my nature of what I am, but both focus entirely on the exterior of what I wear and how I appear. In short both the perceptions are deceived by my "luster" and none really look at the quality of the "crystal" within me.

Similarly, in this beautiful poetic verse described by the great sage Tirumular, Maya is described as the perception we have of the Goddess and not the Goddess herself. Maya, with all its complications is but a figment of our imagination. It’s an illusion we simply love, are too familiar with and do not want to get out of, so much so that we make it difficult for those who want to try.

Maya, is such a thick cloud of illusion that it doesn't let our mind, or senses even seek that which is in our subconscious. It is so full of deceptive action that we spend our waking hours, our concentration, our time, and our energy trying to live in that illusion without even realizing we have spent so much wasted effort in the wrong place. Maya is that barrier that exists between our consciousness and the world that lives in our subconscious and that glimpse is best found in its purity when we try to seek it within ourselves.

If we were to live this verse as sung in the Thirumanthiram, then we need to be aware of the conscious world, and not let it affect us, making it insignificant enough that it has little or no value in the world that lies within us in our subconscious. The Goddess to whom we have given form and color and power, is that inner energy that we still fail to realize is lying buried within us, unknown and we still remain enamored by the luster of life, of Maya.

Shakti is that which is beyond the Maya as we know it, Shakti is described as that which is beyond the life as we define it and Shakti is that which we experience when we attempt to take a dip into the subconscious world we have built within ourselves. We still remain blindly disposed to the luster of life, we barely even know where the crystal is to be found. The real beauty is within and we so don't have the power to conquer it for we fall to its luster, to its Maya, to its glitter, to our perception of it.

In the darkness of the subconscious, beyond the illusive light of this luster, lies the power of Mata, of the Goddess that remains untouched. She sits there silent, in darkness, in her reddish sheen so subtle that we do not know how to define and perceive her beauty. She is pure, sacred, and formless but her presence is experienced in her warmth as a beautiful Goddess, shining bright as her golden halo radiant with life, the crescent moon glows like a drop of amrita that rests on her all divine self. This is her all encompassing self that is so beautiful to experience, that even words fail to break the barrier of speech to describe her.

She is silence, She is void, She is light, She is beauty.

The only way to reach her is to bring the mind under control, with repeated thoughts focused on her such that we breath, think and live with thoughts only about the Mother and nothing else really matters. At the end of some time, the conscious state tunes itself to the same depth in thought to the subconscious so much that there is really no difference between both the worlds. This is when a thick cloud of illusion becomes a thin line and perception is now as pure are real.

3.02.2009

Shakti Peetha, Chamundeshwari - Chamundi Hill, Mysore

Chamundi Hill, read the board as the car took the right to ascend the hill that overlooks the little town of Mysore. Civilization has since grown and is slowly replacing old world charm with new. As the car turns through hair pin bends, the mind looks over the landscape in anticipation of the Goddess, who has since resided here, ever since the previous yuga when Shakti destroyed herself and her hair fell here on this sacred ground.

My mind lingers over the twists and turns in my life that made me come and visit the Goddess Chamundeshwari again. She brings an aura along with herself, that of shakti, of silence, of a slight uneasiness that over powers the mind. There is a mixed emotion to want to realize what great powers are preserved here which have now crystallized into a small temple for Chamundeshwari devi.


As we approach the entrance, I look at the steps leading up into a smaller entrance. Silver covers the doors, and transforms this whole ambiance into a totally different world. Goddesses of all kinds descend down onto the doors and bless the visiting Bhaktas, this is a theatrical moment as one walks in and the cool air breezing through the walls wakes us up to a heavenly world of beautiful Goddesses echoing the realm of Shakti Peetha. This Shakti peetha echoes of ancient cult practices, of vermilion kumkum smeared across the Goddess forehead and that of the fresh offering lying in waiting - that of an animal, of man, of me.

I closed my eyes and thought deep, I feel I have been here as I descended towards the balipeetha. The power of the Goddess beckons, and I swoon to its tune placing my head over the Balipeetha in complete surrender. Inscribed with the Goddess's feet in the center, this broad stone has felt the knife edge and has been bathed in blood, my blood. Blood flowed loose here, with human sacrifices that might sound chilling but when I place my head here, it doesn't feel wrong anymore! I am here to sacrifice myself, this life, this breath at the feet of the Goddess. What better death can I wish for as I lay my head here for the Goddess to severe and hold in her hand, as my blood flow down as an offering in her cup that she holds in her left hand. My mind I place here for her to control, to take as I merge into her!

As darkness took over I lay here, long ago, my head resting on this sacred stone at this small temple, the walls echoed with mantra bathing my being. As the fire in every oil lamp lit up this little temple, the Goddess residing at its center, descended to my side. Chamunda, in her original wild and untamed form came close and gently towards me, emaciated and present as the consort to Bhairava now sat close by and looks at me with loving eyes. As I lay across this Balipeetha I turned in to look at the Goddess within, the same Chamunda Devi put on a very tamed and warm exterior, decked in flowers and jewelery.

Among the bellowing flames that rise, the Goddess is invoked in sacred syllables that bring her power alive. As the holy water is sprinkled over me and my forehead is anointed with holy vermilion, I breathe slowly listening to the sacred words go by.

Lankayam Shankari devi, Kamakshi Kanchika pure|
Pradyumne Shrinkhala devi, Chamunda Krouncha pattane||

Invoking the Shaktis, Goddess Shankari Devi in Lanka, Kamakshi in Kanchipuram, Goddess Shrinkhala in Pradyumna and Chamunda Devi in Chamundi Hill...

The mind sinks into itself, the water trickles down my spine purifying me the sacrificial offering, and the oil lamps light up my face as the incense forms a gentle cloud of dancing celestial world around me. As I look up to the Mother dressed in a garland of skulls, the sweet notes of a conversation pierce the silence of the night.

Sanaischara Uvacha|

Bhagawan deva devesa krupaya thwam jagat prabho|
vamsakhya kavacham broohi mahyam sishyaya|
they anagha yasya prabhavath devesa Vamso vrudhir jayathe||

Oh God, Oh God of Gods, Oh Lord of the universe, please be kind and reveal that Armour to this faultless disciple of yours, which deals about family and by the power of which, the family will grow.

Soorya Uvacha|

Kantam rakshathu Chamunda hrudayam rakshathachiva|
Eesani cha bhujou raksheth kukshim nabhim cha kalika||

Let my neck be protected by Chamunda Devi
Let my heart be protected be her consort Bhairava Shiva
Let my arms be protected by Isana
Let my belly and navel be protected by Kalika Mata

I look up as the mantras rise, I stare up to the axe that waits, I look up to the Mother who holds me covered in vermilion, fearsome to all but warm and pleasant to me, a beautiful garland of skulls she wears, a garland of which I shall soon be a part. Oh Mother of Parasurama, Oh divine form of Kali, Oh divine daughter of the sage Mathanga, Oh Shambhavi divine consort of Lord Shiva, I give up my life to you, I offer my blood to you, I offer my breath to you. I merge into you.

With the rising tempo that echoes among these walls, this theatrical world creates this illusion as I pass from this world to the next. The shining tip of the axe lets loose and the Mother awakens my soul, as it rises up from this sacred stone, this sacred bed of mine, this balipeetha.

This Balipeetha stands here today, silent and cold. It was once my bed, it was once wet with my blood, on it long ago lay my corpse, on this stony bed my life was an offering. Am here I stand, wondering why, wondering what, wondering how.

Related topics:
A night with Nava Shakti - Chamunda
Chaunsath Yogini temple
The killing of Mahishasura on Vijayadasami
Ekapada Shiva - The one legged Shiva

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