Aum Sathyyai Namaha!

14

Sati

Ya Devi sarvabhuteshu, kanti rupena samsthita

Namasthasyai, namasthasyai, namasthasyai namo namaha!

O Goddess who resides in all creatures in the form of beauty,

Hail to thee, hail to thee, all hail to thee!

As we have seen, Maha Devi takes on various incarnations in order to fulfill the demands of her devotees and for the protection of the world. One of the most famous of these is her incarnation as Sati, daughter of Daksha.

Brahma is the creator in the Hindu trinity. He is self-born and he created many other beings out of his mind, including thousands of sons. Most of the great sages were created in this fashion. Brahma wanted them to take up the task of creation but they refused. At last he produced Daksha who was another of his mind-born sons. He was a prajapati, or patriarch. Because Brahma was tired of creating endlessly from his mind, he gave the responsibility of creating through cohabitation to his son Daksha (one who is skillful). Daksha was an arrogant man with a long face and deep furrows on either side of a hooked nose. He was the champion of orthodoxy and conservatism. His lips curled with disdain at anything that did not meet with his ideas of propriety. He was addicted to rites and ritualism and was the greatest supporter of the Vedic tenets.

Up until this point creation had taken place only through the mind of Brahma, and it was not proving very successful in populating the world. So Daksha’s father, Brahma, asked him to marry and create people through the normal way of union between male and female.

Daksha took two wives, named Asikni and Virini. From his first wife he got two thousand sons, whom he commanded to marry and thus multiply the human species. Unfortunately, the sage Narada advised them instead to become ascetics and contemplate the supreme truth, thus deflecting the boys from their marital plans. Daksha was furious and cursed Narada. He decided that daughters might prove to be more pliable, and so he begat sixty daughters on his second wife. When they came of age he married them to suitable husbands among the rishis and demigods. Much to his relief, their progeny slowly started to fill the world.

But for the one daughter on whom his mind always dwelt with great fondness, he had been unable to think of a suitable groom. He remembered her birth. Brahma had asked him to do tapas to Maha Devi and beg her to be born as his child. He had undertaken intense austerities and eventually had a vision of the goddess. She appeared as a haze of darkness in which appeared two pinpoints of light. One point turned out to be a brilliant blue lotus and the other a flashing sword. And then as he peered into the gloaming, he saw her: Durga seated on a lion and looking at him with great tenderness. He got up and threw himself down before the growling lion and begged the goddess to become his daughter. She graciously agreed.

Daksha returned home and, along with his wife Virini, worshipped the goddess and begged her to keep her promise. The supreme mother of the universe now took birth in the house of Daksha. As she was the personification of supreme truth, she was named Sati (the embodiment of truth).

Brahma had instructed Sati while she was still young that the only fitting mate for her was Mahadeva: Shiva, the lord of lords. Her mother noticed that she was quite unlike her sisters. They would laugh and gossip and invent stories of the ones they would marry, but Sati kept to herself. She was often found wandering alone in the forest singing to herself and painting pictures of the lord of Kailasa. The face she drew was frightening, and quite incomprehensible to her mother and sisters. When she reached adolescence, Sati approached her mother and informed her that she was going to undertake a year-long vow in order to propitiate Shiva. She underwent rigorous tortures of her body until one full year had passed. At the end of the year she concluded her worship of the three-eyed lord and sat and concentrated on him. This news was reported to Daksha, who was quite dismayed. He was the patriarch of organized religion, following strict rules and conducting continuous fire sacrifices ( yajna) to the gods, who in turn were supposed to support and upkeep the sanctity of the social order. Shiva stood for the very opposite of all this.

Daksha ranted and raved, “I will never agree to my beloved daughter marrying this crazy man, this woman stealer! He is the enemy of all rules and rites, he smears himself with the ashes of the dead, and he consorts with the lowest of the low, grows his hair long, and bedecks himself with bones. He stands for the opposite of everything that I stand for. Why did I compose so many rites and rituals and why did I beget the mother of the universe if she is to be snatched away from me by that madman? I will never agree to this marriage! You may tell her that!”

But though her mother and sisters tried their best to dissuade her and warned her of the dire consequences of her father’s wrath, Sati was adamant and refused to be deterred from her firm resolve. She determined not to stir from the place she had chosen for her austerities until the lord of her heart appeared in person to take her. As the months passed, she grew thin and emaciated, yet her body shone with an extraordinary luster. Even the sages came to see her, for she had reached an exalted state. They determined to make her wish come true, and along with the gods they went to Lord Vishnu and begged him to intercede with Shiva on her behalf. All of them now proceeded to Kailasa and praised Shiva and begged him to accept Sati as his wife.

Shiva said, “O sages! Only a person of imperfect knowledge will desire marriage. It is a great bondage. I am a yogi, ever delighting in the bliss of the self. I’m always engaged in tapas and total detachment from the world. What interest would I have in marriage? Moreover, I’m the friend of ghosts and goblins. I visit the burning ghats and crematoriums. My body is covered with the ashes from the cremation ground. Serpents and reptiles are my ornaments. Which woman would want to marry me?”

The gods begged him to reconsider his decision, so Shiva smiled and said, “If you can find a woman who will meet my requirements, I shall certainly marry her. When I am yogi, she will have to be a yogini. When I desire her, she will have to be a wife. When I go into samadhi (a superconscious state), she should not approach me, for she will be burnt to ashes in the fire of my austerity. If she refuses to do what I say, I shall abandon her. Now see if you can find such a woman.”

Brahma was delighted at these words and said, “Indeed, O Lord, such a woman has already been born in the household of Prajapati Daksha. She is known as Sati and is a fitting mate for you. At present she is performing rigorous penance in order to secure you as her husband. She is an incarnation of Maha Devi, who takes on many forms in order to bless the world.”

Shiva was intrigued by this description and agreed to meet Sati. On the eighth day of the bright half of the month of Aswin (September/ October), Sati observed her final fast, which concluded her one-year worship of Lord Shiva. She sat in the dense forest engrossed in meditation on his form. Suddenly she felt her whole body tremble. Her mind became agitated and refused to concentrate. Wondering what had happened to distract her, she opened her eyes and saw her beloved standing before her, just as she had imagined him. He appeared before her in his incomparable form with five faces, three eyes, and a crescent moon adorning his locks. He was holding a trident and drum, and his neck was entwined with serpents. He was covered with ashes and clad in a tiger skin. Such was his brilliance that Sati could hardly look at him.

Although he knew her desire, Shiva asked her to choose a boon, for he wanted to hear her wish from her own mouth. But she was very shy and would not speak. Again he urged her to openly express her desire. At last she whispered, “O Lord! Why do you play with me? You know my desire. Let me have the bridegroom of my choice.”

Hardly had she finished when he replied, “You shall indeed be my wife, O Dakshayini (daughter of Daksha)! I shall take you away to my mountain abode immediately, before anyone sees us. Your father would surely obstruct us if he could.”

Sati begged him to approach her father and marry her with all proper rites. Shiva shook his head in foreboding, but since she insisted he gave in to her wishes. He grasped her tender hand in his strong one and hastened to Daksha.

Daksha, the impeccable priest of orthodoxy, looked at Shiva in utter contempt. He was a wild beggar clothed in the stench of pyres. Daksha broke out in a fierce expletive when he saw that Shiva held Sati tightly in one strong arm while he stroked his garland of bones with the other. Sati herself looked different. She was no longer his beautiful daughter. The long year of penance had turned her skin dark. She was clad in dirty and torn clothes, but her eyes were bright and radiated happiness. She was looking adoringly at her divine lover and seemed oblivious of her father’s wrath.

“You scoundrel!” Daksha exclaimed. “What have you done? Are you trying to snatch my beloved daughter from me?” Looking at Sati he said, “I will never let you marry this wretch.”

“O Father!” said Sati. “I have made my choice. This is the man I wish to marry, and none other.”

“In that case you can marry him without my consent and without my blessings. You will be shunned forever, condemned to wander like an outcast with this madman!” Daksha exploded.

Sati’s eyes pleaded with her father for understanding, but he refused to meet them with his own. This child who had been so dear to him was now cast out of his heart and house. Sati clung harder to Shiva’s arm. Without a word he lifted her into his arms and placed her on his vehicle, the bull Nandi, who had been waiting for his master’s command. The couple set off without any pomp or show. There was no music or trumpets, no priests, and no rituals. They had no home or shelter. From the palace of Prajapati Daksha, in which she had enjoyed every comfort, Sati was taken to a bleak and barren mountain where there were only beasts and reptiles to welcome her. She cared not for the lack of comforts. All she wanted was to roam about wildly in the wake of her unpredictable husband, across the desolate Himalayan ranges and peaks inhabited by wild animals, followed by a horde of goblins. At first Shiva tested her resolve and hardly glanced at her, but she ignored this callous treatment and continued to follow him. At last one day he chased his followers away and gathered her into an embrace that lasted for twenty-five years, without his ever emptying his seed into her.

The embrace of Sati and Shiva represents the union of Purusha and Prakriti as one. Sati’s role was to make Shiva function in the mundane world. He was bhava (pure being), and she bhavani (becoming). Unless she bestirred herself and broke out of his embrace, all creativity would be at a standstill. The portrait of Shiva always alternates between the extremes of asceticism and eroticism. Shiva’s stored-up potency that accumulates during asceticism has to be coaxed into being released into the world to invigorate creation. Sati’s and later Parvati’s role was to lure Shiva from this ascetic isolation to creative participation in the world.

At last Sati uncurled herself from that endless embrace and started to question Shiva on the meaning of the self: “Ever since I was a little girl I have practiced tapas, not for liberation but to get you as my husband. Now that I have my desire, I long for liberation too. I have been told that you are liberation itself. All my devotion has been to you, but now I want knowledge.”

Shiva said, “O Sati, in the age that is to come, the Iron Age of Kali, devotion is the easiest method of getting release. So you should continue with your devotion to me and I shall set you free.”

“My lord, I know what devotion is, but I would like also to learn about jnana (wisdom).”

“You don’t need it, O Sati, for you and I are one. That is knowledge.”

“But who are you?” asked Sati.

“I am That,” said Shiva.

“What is That?” she insisted.

At last Shiva, the supreme soul, gave in to the wishes of the Divine Mother and gave her, who is omniscient, all wisdom in order to benefit the world. He said:

O Sati, I shall give you that knowledge that shall free all souls in bondage. O beautiful one! Know that supreme knowledge consists of experiencing the great truth, “I am Brahman.” In the enlightened intellect, nothing else is remembered. This sort of consciousness is very rare in this world. But O beloved! Remember that I myself am the supreme Brahman, as is Vishnu. As for you, my love, you are nothing but the supreme Shakti (Parashakti). You are not separate from the Brahman. Devotion to you or to me or to Vishnu will give liberation from these mortal coils and is easier to practice. One who is steeped in devotion enjoys perpetual bliss. Devotion has the power to attract me as nothing else can. Why do you think I was attracted to you? I go even to the houses of outcasts if they are devotees. In the decadent age of Kali, wisdom and detachment have been misused and neglected. People who can grasp them are rare. Devotion or bhakti can give the same benefits and is more appealing.

Listening to this discourse, Sati was satisfied. She questioned Shiva on a thousand other things also. These wonderful dialogues between Sati and Shiva form the basis of much of the sacred lore found in Hindu philosophy. Thus Shiva and Sati, who are both intrinsically nothing but the supreme Brahman, who are all-knowing and eternal, carried on their dialogue in the Himalayas in order to help human beings rise out of the ocean of samsara (the wheel of human existence).

When Shiva was immersed in samadhi, Sati would sometimes wander off by herself. At these times she would feel a weight of grief pressing on her breast, for she knew that her father Daksha hated Shiva. She remembered the great yajna that the rishis had once conducted at Prayaga (the confluence of the three sacred rivers of the Indian subcontinent: the Ganga, Yamuna, and Saraswati). She had gone there with her lord, and all those assembled had gotten up from their seats to pay homage to Mahadeva. When Daksha arrived with his entourage, everyone except Shiva rose from their seats to honor him. Daksha’s face became dark with rage when he noticed this lack of humility on the part of his son-in-law. He broke out into a host of invectives against Shiva.

“How is it that when the rest of the world honors me, this fellow alone refuses to pay me homage? His monkey eyes are not fit to meet the doelike eyes of my lovely daughter. By giving her to him, I have given the fragrant flowers of the Veda into the hands of an unclean outcast! In the future he shall not be given a place in any of the yajnas conducted by anyone!”

Sati would have jumped up immediately to vindicate her husband, but Shiva restrained her with a touch.

“My dearest,” he said, “this is not the time and place for you to denounce your father. Don’t you know that I myself am the sacrifice, the sacrificial rite, and the very self of the sacrifice? Who is this Daksha? Who are you? Who are all these people? In reality I am all. Knowing this, you should not grieve. Daksha has done this out of pride, for which he will be forced to pay a heavy price. But you are my wife and should be free from anger!”

So Sati had held her tongue, but often as she wandered alone on the mountain slopes she felt a great sadness. She felt sure that some dire incident was approaching. She knew that her husband did not reciprocate Daksha’s hatred, for he had no aversion to anything in the world, but still the nameless sorrow gnawed at her.

One day as she was wandering on the mountainside she noticed many of her sisters traveling in their aerial vehicles up in the sky, accompanied by their husbands. Many other celestial beings were going the same way. She called to them to find out where they were proceeding.

They said, “Don’t you know that our father is conducting a grand yajna to which everyone has been invited? It is going to be the greatest show the world has ever known. I’m sure you will be invited, and we will meet you there.”

Sati ran to Shiva and asked him whether they had received an invitation. Shiva replied, “I thought you knew that your father hates me. He is conducting this yajna (fire sacrifice) with the express purpose of humiliating me and will certainly not invite us.”

Sati looked crestfallen and said, “Of course you cannot go to a place where you have not been invited, but I am his daughter. Children can go to their father’s house without invitation. Moreover, I long to see my mother and sisters and talk to people other than Nandi and the goblins, so will you permit me to go?”

“I cannot stop you from going where you please,” said Shiva, “but remember that no good will come of it. In fact, you may face dire consequences if you go. You will be dishonored and forced to listen to your father’s insults!”

But Sati was adamant. She had made up her mind and nothing could deter her. With great sadness Shiva watched her depart. He sent Nandi as her vehicle and all his ganas (Shiva’s attendants, who are a motley crew of goblins and spirits) to protect her if necessary. She wore pomegranate flowers in her hair. Her pet parrot sat on the bull beside her. The white umbrella of royalty was held above her head, and pennants and banners waved merrily beside her. Trumpets and conches blared forth as she set out. Shiva watched her sadly, for he knew that he would never see her in this form again.

Sati came from the realms of established religion, the order of dharma. She married into the order of asceticism, thus combining the two conflicting worlds. Her role was to act as the mediator between these two opposing poles, both of which are basic to the Hindu tradition. Her final sacrifice of herself forced Shiva to look favorably on the sacrificial cult that is meant to maintain and nourish creation and from which he had so far kept aloof.

How has He through the thickets of the world,

Pursued me like a lion in the night,

And come upon me suddenly in the way,

And seized me with His glorious golden leap.

Unsatisfied He yearned for me through time,

Sometimes with wrath and sometimes with sweet peace,

Desiring me since first the world began.

He rose like a wild wave out of the floods,

And dragged me helpless into seas of bliss.

—SAVITRI BY SRI AUROBINDO

Thus ends the fourteenth chapter of Shakti, known as “Sati,” which describes the advent of the goddess as Sati, daughter of the patriarch Daksha.

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