Aum Shivaayai Namaha!

15

Dakshayini

Ya Devi sarvabhuteshu, smriti rupena samsthita,

Namasthasyai, namasthasyai, namasthasyai namo namaha!

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

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

When she arrived at her ancestral home, Sati hardly recognized it, for it was spectacularly decorated and abounded with wondrous sights. She descended from the bull Nandi and went inside alone. The ganas waited outside in trepidation. They knew that something momentous was about to happen. As Sati entered the sacrificial hall, those gathered there froze and none dared to look at her face, for fear of Daksha. Only her mother and sisters flocked to welcome her, but she waved them aside. Her father alone was totally unaware of her entrance, for he was immersed in his rituals. She instantly noted that offerings had been made for all the gods except Shiva. His place was deliberately empty and bare. With measured steps she walked toward the center of the yajnashala (hall of the yajna), where her father was seated beside the blazing fire, offering ghee and various other herbs into the pit, mutter ing incantations all the while. Everyone watched with bated breath as Sati approached.

Sati’s complexion, which was normally quite dark, became even darker. Her long, black tresses, which had been knotted up, shook loose and swung like a black cloak around her. Her lotus eyes were red with anger and blazed like hot coals, and as she looked at her father, sparks of red light flew out. Daksha turned and saw her and visibly paled beneath her scorching gaze. It was the first time that Daksha had broken off his mutterings in the middle of a ritual.

Sati looked at him with scorn and said,

O Father! Your end is near. You are trying to perform a sacrifice without inviting the one who is the very soul of all sacrifices. Shiva is the essence of fullness, and you have excluded him from your yajna. You think the world revolves around your rites. The flowers of your ritual are but rain that falls from the feet of Shiva. You have insulted him—the great lord, Mahadeva, without whose blessings no sacrifice can be complete. My lord warned me of what I would find here and I disregarded him. How can I return to him? I can no longer bear to have my beloved call me Dakshayini (daughter of Daksha). This body that was born from your seed is hateful to me. I can no longer inhabit it. Your daughter shall be the supreme human sacrifice for your great yajna. Here and now I shall abandon this body that sprang from your loins.

So saying, Sati turned toward the north and fixed her mind on her lord. She covered herself with her upper garment and went into a yogic trance.¹ She raised her kundalini from the muladhara chakra at the bottom of her spine up to the sahasrara chakra on the crown of her head. Her spirit disappeared through the orifice at the crown of her head, leaving the empty, calcified shell of her body standing like a translucent statue. Everyone gazed in terror at what remained of Sati’s body.

The ganas flew back to Shiva and reported to him the wretched story. Shiva jumped up from the rock on which he had been sitting, plucked off one of his braids, and dashed it against the rock. From it sprang the gigantic figure known as Virabhadra. He had the same features, embellishments, and dress as Rudra, the destroyer. He had hundreds of feet and arms, brandishing a multitude of weapons. He was decked with snakes, tiger skins, and flower garlands. Shiva commanded him to proceed to Daksha’s palace and destroy the entire hall of sacrifice. Virabhadra set out, followed by Kaali and a host of goblins and spirits.

Far away in Daksha’s yajnashala there was total silence and gloom. Into this silence crept a noise, which grew and grew like the awesome approach of a tornado. It approached inexorably from the north. Virabhadra’s arrival was heralded by a dust storm that filled every nook and crevice in the hall. Then out of the shadows came his mountainous figure with flailing arms and weapons, indiscriminately destroying every single thing in the hall. Those who could flee ran for their lives; others had their limbs torn from them and still others were brutally trampled upon. The once beautiful yajnashala had become a battlefield soaked with blood and scattered with limbs. The ganas desecrated the entire place, urinating in the hollows in which fires glowed and splattering blood on the offerings. Virabhadra, looking around for the master of the sacrifice, at last spied Daksha huddled in terror near the altar. One of Virabhadra’s hands gripped him by the neck and hauled him off to the pit where the animal sacrifice was normally done. Virabhadra cut off Daksha’s head and threw it contemptuously into the fire as the final offering: the head of the master of the sacrifice.

Having done their worst, Virabhadra and the host returned to their lord. In the meantime Brahma and Vishnu had gone to Kailasa and begged Shiva to withdraw Virabhadra and allow Daksha to complete the sacrifice for the well-being of the world. Shiva agreed, but since Daksha’s body now had no head, he told them to fix the head of a goat on him.

Though he had forgiven Daksha, Shiva was filled with agony at the death of his beloved Sati. Picking up her lifeless corpse, he wandered over the world, holding her aloft. His ganas followed him silently, tears rolling down their cheeks, not knowing how to console their grief-stricken lord. He wandered on, repeating the steps of the thandava, the dance that precedes creation and destruction. The whole of creation was filled with grief, and the gods begged Vishnu to do something before the whole world drowned in Shiva’s sorrow. Vishnu took his discus and cut off pieces of Sati’s body, limb by limb. At last, when the whole body had been cut apart, Shiva realized that there was nothing more in his arms. He retired to his mountain fastness and went into deep samadhi and refused to meet anyone.

Those places where Sati’s limbs had fallen came to be known as Shakti Peethas, where the power of Maha Devi is most keenly felt. One hundred and eight in number, they are found all over India and even today attract devotees from all over the country. Shiva is always present in the Shakti Peethas, so these places are considered doubly holy. Sati’s yoni (vulva) fell in the place called Kamarupa or Kamakhya in the state of Assam. It is said that Shiva assumed the form of the lingam (penis) and plunged himself into her, and there the two remain conjoined eternally. There is a saying in Sanskrit that the penis will always ejaculate automatically when placed in a vagina. But this is not true of Shiva. He has completely obliterated lust from his consciousness. His lingam always resides in Sati’s yoni, and yet he never loses his semen. The same story is repeated with Parvati, when she and Shiva embrace each other for eons with no apparent display of lust. This is why Shiva is known as the perfect yogi. Esoterically, the yoni stands for all womankind and the lingam for all mankind, and this story is meant to show that men and women will continue to attract each other eternally.

Sati’s eyes are said to have fallen in the holy spot of Varanasi, and here she is known as Vishalakshi (the wide-eyed one). Her navel is said to have fallen in Kanchi, a famous Shakti Peetha, and here she is known as Kamakshi (the one with love-filled eyes). She is known as Kumari in Haridwar, as Rukmani in Dwaraka, and as Radha in Vrindavana. She is Sita in Chitrakuta and Vindhya Vaasini in the Vindhya mountains. These places are said to be her favorite abodes. In the form of truth she is present in the hearts of all creatures all the time.

Even in death Sati succeeded in her attempt to bring Shiva from ascetic isolation to creative participation: he dwells forever in the form of the lingam embedded in her yoni. She performed the same feat when her body was cut to pieces and fell to the earth. By following her, Shiva was literally forced to return to the type of life that he had hitherto shunned. Previously he had dwelt in the mountains and was totally immersed in tapas, indifferent to creation. But Sati succeeded in involving the great ascetic god in the world of creation by capturing him in her yoni and forcing him to accept a creative role. Thus, even though Shiva keeps performing his asceticism in his mountain retreat, he continues to be accessible to the world in the form of the lingam. This theme is fully developed in the story of Parvati.

A spirit within looks into the Eternal’s eyes.

It hears the words to which our hearts were deaf,

It sees through the blaze in which our eyes grew blind.

It drinks from the naked breasts of Truth,

It learns the secrets of eternity.

—SAVITRI BY SRI AUROBINDO

Thus ends the fifteenth chapter of Shakti, known as “Dakshayini,” which describes the sacrifice of Daksha.

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