Shakti: The Feminine Divine
Read Shakti: The Feminine Divine Online
Authors: Anuja Chandramouli
Anuja Chandramouli
graduated from Women’s Christian College, Chennai, and was the college topper in Abnormal Psychology. She also holds a master’s degree in English. Currently, she is studying classical dance. Her debut novel,
Arjuna: Saga of a Pandava Warrior-Prince
, was named as one of the top five books in the Indian Writing category by Amazon India in 2013. She is also the author of the bestselling novel
Kamadeva: The God of Desire
.
Anuja is the mother of two little girls and lives in Sivakasi. To know more about her, log on to
www.anujachandramouli.com
or follow her on
Twitter@anujamouli
. You can also email her at
[email protected]
Also by the author:
Kamadeva: The God of Desire
Published by
Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd 2015
7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj
New Delhi 110002
Copyright © Anuja Chandramouli 2015
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.
eISBN: 978-81-291-3812-5
First impression 2015
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.
To the three Shaktis in my life:
Rajeshwari: You remain the best and most beautiful soul there ever was. Miss you more than I can bear, perims
.
Gowri: No matter how dark the world becomes, your inner goodness shines bright and warms the spirit
.
Thank you for that, perims, and so much more
.
Maheshwari: My mother, my friend, my life
.
Love itself she is;
Yet miseries she inflicts
To make and break is her play
In her is happiness boundless.
—
Subramania Bharathiar, in praise of Parasakthi
*
Thus, O king, does the blessed Devi, though eternal, manifest again and again for the protection of the world.
By her this universe is deluded. She herself brings forth everything. Entreated, she bestows right knowledge; propitiated, she bestows prosperity.
O king, by her all this universe is pervaded, by Mahakali, who takes form as the great destroyer at the end of time.
At that time, she herself is the great destroyer. Existing from all eternity, she herself becomes the creation. She, the eternal one, sustains all beings.
In times of well-being she is indeed good fortune, granting prosperity in the homes of humankind. In times of privation, she exists in misfortune, bringing about ruin.
—
Devadutta Kali, Devimahatmyam: In Praise of the Goddess
*
From Kalki Krishnamurthy,
Sivakamiyin Sabadam: The Bikshu’s Love
(Vol.3) tr. Nandini Vijayaraghavan, Litintrans, 2012.
Contents
The Making of the Buffalo Demon
Into the Savage Breast of the Beast
The Battle that Was; or Wasn’t
The Slaying of Vritrasura and the Witch Hunt
Author’s Note
This is not so much an ‘Author’s Note’ as it is a gentle reminder to my readers:
Shakti
is a story, which was manufactured in a factory designated for that express purpose in the subterranean regions of my brain, in collusion with the more twisted elements of a convoluted mind that has long been a source of despair for my mum.
Some of you might be feeling a tad inquisitive about which parts of this tale are true, and which parts are fictionalized or extracted in various states of purity from documented mythology. All I can say is, please don’t bother your head too much about it, since there is no way of ascertaining to an absolute certainty what is true and what isn’t, or what is fact and what is fiction, in the realms of myth
and
the real world, for that matter. In any case, such things are of little consequence in this particular instance, because this offering of make-believe is intended solely to be an intense experience from which the reader can take or leave whatever he or she pleases, in keeping with personal preferences and individual inclinations.
Many thanks and much love!
Before the Beginning
E
VERYTHING IN EXISTENCE
has a point of origin, or so it is believed. The Goddess, however, had never felt the need to go past her roots to the very beginning, whatever that may be. It was sure to have involved messy copulation, spilled seminal fluids and tumultuous emotions, making it a nasty business. Or was she like the much-admired circle, without beginning or end? It was a depressing thought, since despite the seeming profoundity, it was daunting to imagine spending eternity going around in circles.
For her, it had all begun when love happened…not just to her, but to the males in her life. Many had lost their heads over her, but only three mattered—the Creator, who had wanted her with a frenetic need; the Preserver, who had had the good sense to love her without falling in love with her; and the Destroyer, whose love for her was so all-encompassing that she had allowed herself to be consumed by it before fleeing from it, only to return and repeat the exhausting cycle.
Brahma, the Creator, was the first, or so he claimed, to have been at the receiving edge of her cruelty. He fancied that he loved her from the moment he became aware of her presence, shortly after he had sprung forth from the purity of his own consciousness; after all, he was Svayambahu—one who was self-extant.
From his soul, words of power surged forth in her praise—Prakriti, Adishakti, Maya…she was the divine feminine and within her lay the key to life itself. He bestowed on her thousands of names in praise of her exquisite beauty and marvellous qualities; each name was a blessing and a form of worship. Existence would be impossible without her, Brahma realized as he allowed the heat of his desire to warm up the cold and sterile chambers of his great mind. As his ardour burned with increasing intensity, he dreamed of an eternity with her by his side.
Alas, it was not to be and she made it abundantly and painfully clear to him. Brahma approached her, the gift of desire in his outstretched palm and words of tender love brimming over from his throat. However, he was dumbstruck in her presence.
As the silence between them lengthened painfully, she smiled at him and instantly he became her slave.
‘I will undoubtedly seem cruel to you as it is my intention to reject you now, rather than later. But nipping this ill-conceived notion in the bud is an act of kindness that I hope you will understand someday,’ pronounced the Goddess and Brahma was too heartbroken to reply. For the tiniest of moments, she raised her hand in a gesture of blessing and then she was gone, vanished into the ether.
Later, Brahma mused that he should have been furious
at the cruel rebuff or, at the very least, flummoxed by the behaviour of the enigmatic creature whom he had fallen in love with. Instead, he felt awash in contentment. Loving her had entitled him to a part of her essence and perhaps that would be enough until he possessed all of her. He clung to the thought and it infused him with fresh energy.
Brahma welcomed the ensuing period of peace, especially on the heels of his depression and hopelessly frustrated love. His surroundings mirrored the great inner harmony he was experiencing and the universe resounded with infinite calm, its energy swallowed up by the tranquillity. But that was before Brahma became aware of his rival, who emerged out of nowhere to usurp what rightfully belonged to him, the heart of the queen of his affections. Anger gushed forth from the fragments of the Creator’s broken dream and shattered the universal equanimity with its intensity.
The calm disappeared as silently as it had appeared and chaos rushed in to plug the vacuum, even as bitter hatred roiled within him who had formerly been enraptured in the throes of love. From his deep disquiet the first elements emerged and quietly took their place on the newly constructed stage for creation, waiting patiently for everything to fall in place.
The other exuded limitless power, and he was so potent and virile, it was positively offensive. He stank of ash and was awash in the odours of blood, decay and death. If that were not in itself intolerable to him who was purer than the driven snow, the embodiment of life, Brahma sensed in the other a certain quality—a consciousness that was older than his own, purer and entirely transcendent to the vicissitudes of relentless change. His name was Shiva and it meant ‘one who was beloved by the Goddess and therefore beloved by all’.
Brahma nearly choked on the bitterness of his antagonism. For the first time, he felt hatred and an urge to kill another or, at the very least, do him severe harm. However, he was unable to act on his overpowering intentions, as it would mean the destruction of his own self. Instinct warned him that the person he abhorred above all else possessed not only the potency of sexual excitement, but an inherent capacity for destruction as well.
Thus, the Creator remained in this unsatisfactory state as jealousy, rage and grief ate away at him. With the senselessness of the true masochist, he remained attuned to the love play of the couple, wilfully allowing the sheen and lustre of their happiness—that excluded him so completely—to be burnt into his memories, almost revelling in the searing pain. He would have continued to flagellate himself with the misery of his own making, hastening towards the point of no-return that would signal his imminent and complete self-destruction, if it had not been for the one who reclined on a serpent, known as Vishnu, ‘the all-pervasive one, who sustained the universe’.
Vishnu’s benevolence was so all-encompassing that Brahma could not resist the hand that was extended to him in the spirit of friendship. Ever canny and wise, master of the adroit manoeuvre, Vishnu did not force the aid down Brahma’s throat. This act of kindness prompted Brahma to open up to him. ‘Who would have thought it would come down to this? It was my proud belief that I am what I am to fulfil a great purpose as the creator of a wondrous world, which will be populated by my own children, who will prostate themselves at my feet in grateful worship for the duration of their lives. Instead, cruel fate has cast me in the role of a spurned lover, whose obsession, in all likelihood, is going to destroy him!’