The walls of civilization cannot shut out the dark side of samsara. Nature shrugs and there is flood, famine, and fire. Adulterous desires emerge across caste lines. Women miscarry. Children die. Social order is disrupted when the goddess bares her fangs, unbinds her hair, and dances naked, unmindful of disapproving stares. Suddenly, samaja is forced to contend with the emotions that dharma tries so hard to contain.
Samsara is not just beautiful. It is also horrible. Beyond every green meadow, under every flowering tree, is a dark chthonian secret—a rotting corpse, a simmering volcano. Life and death, creation and destruction, sex and violence coexist in Nature. When the gods and demons churned the ocean of milk, the nectar of immortality—amrita—did not rise alone. With it came a deadly poison called kalakuta:
As the sons of Prajapati churned the milky waters of the ocean of life, there emerged from the depths of the waters a viscid and caustic fluid, frothing with fury, polluting the air with deadly fumes. Terrified, the sons of Prajapati turned to their father, who summoned Shiva. The hermit-god collected the poison and drank it as if it were sweet wine.
Shiva Purana
If amrita represents the radiant and fertile side of samsara, then kalakuta represents its dark and barren side. Shiva could consume kalakuta because he is lord of yoga. Yoga gives him the mental discipline to face the brutality of Nature. Shiva is the only Hindu god whose divinity is seen in the light of funeral pyres. He can withstand the stench of death. That is one of the reasons the goddess chose him as her consort:
Devi created Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva. She decided to divide herself into three parts and give herself to the gods. First, she decided to test them. She took the form of a worm-infested corpse. Disgusted by her appearance, Brahma turned, while Vishnu plunged into the waters. Only Shiva embraced the corpse without fear or loathing. Pleased, the goddess married him in her totality. As Sarasvati, her intellectual side, she married Brahma. As Laxmi, her bountiful side, she married Vishnu.
Mahabhagvata Purana, Brihaddharma Purana
Shiva swallowed kalakuta but did not destroy it. As he was about to swallow the lethal drink, his consort Parvati grabbed his neck and choked him until the kalakuta remained in his neck, turning it blue. Why did the goddess stop Shiva and turn him into the blue-throated god? Shiva could have easily digested the poison. However, had he done so, amrita would not have emerged. The dark side of Nature balances the bright side of Nature. They are two aspects of the same goddess:
Brahma had decreed that demon Daruka would not die at the hands of a man, beast, or god. This left him vulnerable only to attacks by women. The devas, tormented by Daruka, sought the aid of the goddess Parvati, who immersed herself in the poison locked in Shiva’s throat and transformed into Kali, the dark one. When she returned to Mount Kailas after killing the demon, her skin was black, her eyes red, her teeth like fangs, her tongue blood smeared. She hardly looked like a wife. Shiva laughed. Hurt, the goddess performed austerities, bathed in a river, and transformed into Gauri, the bright one. Her golden skin, shapely eyes, pearllike teeth, and smile aroused Shiva. He embraced her and they made love.
Shiva Purana, Linga Purana
The cosmic ascetic understands and transcends the dark and the bright sides of Nature. Hence, Shiva’s consort Parvati has a dual personality: She is both mother and killer, Gauri and Kali. Images of Gauri show her dressed in bright clothes, bedecked with flowers and jewels, and holding a cane of sugar, a parrot, a lotus, and a mirror in her four hands. Sugarcane is the love-god Kama’s bow; the parrot, his mount. The lotus represents the female generative organ. The mirror reflects beauty. The goddess clearly personifies Nature’s life-giving and love-arousing capability. Kali, on the other hand, personifies Nature’s life-taking and fear-generating capacity. Her images show her naked, covered with severed limbs and human entrails, holding a sword, a human head, and a bowl filled with blood.
A nymph adorning herself as she celebrates life (left); a yogini holding a skull-mace as she confronts death. Thus the female form embodies the principles of both generation and destruction. Stone carvings from the queen’s stepwell of Patan, Gujarat. Eleventh century.
Vishnu’s consort Laxmi, unlike Shiva’s, radiates only the good things of samsara— beauty, bounty, and benevolence. As the keeper of order and sustainer of civilization, Vishnu cannot embrace the unwholesome side of Nature. While samaja welcomes Laxmi, goddess of fortune, it shuts the door to Alaxmi, goddess of misfortune, the very embodiment of kalakuta, who also emerged from the ocean of milk.
Alaxmi is everything Laxmi is not—gaunt, ugly, foul smelling, with sharp teeth, barren womb, and shriveled breasts. She dwells wherever there is dirt, darkness, and ugliness. Every evening the Hindu housewife cleans the house, decorates the threshold with sacred symbols, lights a lamp, opens the front door, and beckons Laxmi into the house. The garbage is dumped outside and the back door locked to prevent Alaxmi from slipping in and stealing the family happiness:
Alaxmi and Laxmi visited a merchant and asked him, “Which of us, in your opinion, is more beautiful?” The merchant was in a fix; he knew the penalty for angering either goddess. So he said, “I think Laxmi is beautiful when she enters my house and Alaxmi is beautiful when she leaves my house.” On hearing this, Laxmi rushed into the merchant’s house, while Alaxmi ran out. As a result the merchant’s business boomed, profits soared, money poured in, and with it came power, prestige, and position.
Folklore from the state of Orissa
In sacred Hindu scriptures Alaxmi is described as Laxmi’s elder sister. Her divine status is always acknowledged, but her presence is never desired. She is that part of Nature nobody wants within the house. She lurks outside happy and prosperous homes waiting for an opportunity to step in. Opportunity arrives when there are quarrels, or when there is sloth, dirt, and indiscipline.
Ceremonies invoking the powers of the goddess acknowledge both her manifestations. Some rituals draw in her benevolent grace. Others shut out her malevolent gaze. The antiseptic turmeric repels barrenness, while vermilion attracts fertility. Sweetmeats entice Laxmi. Sour, pungent, and astringent food satisfies and keeps away Alaxmi. Storekeepers in the western state of Maharashtra place an image of Laxmi near the cash register; before it they light a lamp and make offerings of flowers, incense, and sweets. They also tie a lemon and green chilies outside their shops, keeping Alaxmi in mind. When the mistress of misfortune arrives, she eats her favorite foods to her heart’s content and turns around without bothering to step in. When women worship Santoshi, the goddess of satisfaction, they never eat sour food. They eat only sweets. Sweetness invokes the goddess of joy, sourness, the goddess of suffering.
Death is the ultimate misfortune. No ritual can keep it out. Death to the Hindu is a goddess who came from the very source that brought forth life:
When Brahma created all creatures of the world, they multiplied themselves until the universe was overcrowded with living beings. This made Brahma angry. He scowled, and out of his scowl came Mrityu, the goddess of death, dressed in red. The goddess wept when she was told why she was created. Her tears became diseases. She did not like her task, but Brahma convinced her that her actions were necessary to rotate the wheel of life. “When you strike, there will be desire and anger in the heart of the dying man that will ensure his rebirth,” said Brahma.
Mahabharata
Hindus also have a god of death called Yama:
The sun-god Surya married Saranya, the daughter of Tvastr, the celestial artisan. She gave birth to a pair of twins, Yama and Yami. Unable to withstand her husband’s radiance, Saranya ran away, leaving behind her shadow, Chaya, to look after the twins. Surya could not distinguish between Saranya and Chaya and so did not notice his wife’s absence. He fathered three children on Chaya. One of them was Manu, who went on to father the human race. Chaya mistreated her twin stepchildren. Unable to bear her cruelty, Yama kicked her. For this act, his leg became infested with maggots, and he was doomed to become the lord of the dead. When Surya learned what had transpired between Chaya and Yama, he concluded that Chaya was not his real wife. He went to his father-in-law’s house in search of Saranya and learned the cause of her grief. Tvastr chiseled away a portion of Surya’s radiance and made his glare tolerable. Surya then set out in search of his wife. He found her grazing on earth in the form of a mare. Taking the form of a stallion, he made love to Saranya and she bore him twin sons, the Ashwinis, gods of potency.
Rig Veda, Mahabharata, Matsya Purana
Surya’s two wives—the gentle Saranyu and the harsh Chaya—give birth to Yama, lord of the dead, and Manu, lord of the living. The idea that life and death, fortune and misfortune, creation and destruction are twin aspects of the same material reality is consistent in Hinduism.
The personalities of the god and goddess of death are quite different. Yama’s approach to death is logical, Mrityu’s is more emotional. Yama arrives at the end of a lifetime; Mrityu can strike anytime.
Yama keeps a record of all human deeds and makes all creatures repay the debt of karma. He decides under what circumstances a creature should be born, taking into account deeds done in the past life. He thus maintains order in the cosmos and is considered a manifestation of dharma. There are no temples dedicated to Yama. Rituals neither please nor displease him. He is passionless. Nothing invites him or keeps him away. He kills when it is time to kill.
Only the goddess, as the following tale suggests, can bypass the law of Yama:
A woman brought her dead son to the goddess Karni and begged her to retore him to life. Karni approached Yama but he refused to help. Furious, the goddess decreed that her devotees would not be bound by Yama’s laws. So it is that Karni’s devotees are reborn as mice in her temple. When the mice die they are reborn as her devotees.
Temple lore from the state of Rajasthan
Mrityu, unlike Yama, is a divine shrew who kills when she is angry. She can kill a baby as soon as it leaves its mother’s womb. She can kill a groom on his wedding night. She can overturn the decree of fate. She must be appeased and kept away. Her abode, the cremation ground, is located outside the village and considered inauspicious. Men who enter the cremation ground bathe and undergo ritual purification before they reenter their houses. Food for the goddess of death is always kept on the village frontier lest she wander into the village to satisfy her hunger.
With death looming on the horizon, man seeks permanence in his life. When that is unavailable, he seeks some kind of certainty or predictability. He searches for patterns in the random flux of material reality. He establishes society, creates rules, and attempts to generate order. But beyond the square of civilization lurks an unfathomable realm of uncontrollable, incalculable, chaotic energy with the capacity to create and destroy life. Through prayers and incantations, the creative energy is harnessed and the destructive energy kept away.
Occasionally, the dark side does make its presence felt with unbelievable ferocity:
A merchant’s ship was lost at sea and came upon a fabulous island where he saw a great goddess under a great tree, surrounded by children and women, serpents and reptiles, cows and tigers. In her presence, the cat and mouse were at play and the wolf and the sheep were friends, as were the lion and the doe. The goddess herself was swallowing and disgorging herds of elephants. The goddess identified herself as Shitala and told the merchant that she would restore his ship to the port if he promised to institute her worship in his land. The merchant agreed and, on reaching his city, went immediately to his king and told him of his encounter with Shitala. The king did not believe the merchant and refused to worship the goddess. Enraged, Shitala struck the king’s city with her army of diseases. Every man suffered from leprosy, every woman with cholera, every child with pox. Even the king was afflicted. He began worshipping the goddess, and instantly the diseases disappeared and the health of his subjects was restored.
Shitala Mangal
The dark side of Nature also lurks in the mind of man. Dharma restrains it. But occasionally it erupts. There is fear and fury. Uncontrollable rage is satisfied only with violence. Murders, riots, rape, and plunder follow. In the din of battle Korravai cackles, mocking pathetic human attempts to suppress the animal in man. Korravai is the goddess of battlefields, and is revered in southern India. And when the warriors depart, she feasts on the entrails of the dead along with dogs, vultures, and carrion crows. Those who wish to cremate dead warriors appease her before claiming the corpses:
Potaraju, the minion of the goddess of the battlefields, complained why he and his horde of ghosts had to watch over dead bodies. “If I take care of a city or village instead, I will get food to it.” The goddess assured him that the local communities would always feed him with a sheep as tall as a palm tree and with a mound of rice as high as a mountain for as long as they had rice and salt. The goddess then grew so tall that her head reached the sky. She projected twelve spears out of her head and impaled an elephant on each spear. Over each elephant, she stacked twelve corpses. On each corpse, she placed twelve lamps. In her twelve arms, she carried twelve dreadful blood-soaked weapons. With burning coals on her head and jingling bells on her feet, she presented herself to those who came to the battlefield to claim the bodies of fallen warriors. She yelled like thunder, set the skies aflame, and made sparks of fire fall on earth. Everyone trembled and saluted her. They offered her gifts. Pleased with the offerings, she disappeared, threatening to return if her minion, Potaraju, was not well fed and if she was not respected.
Folklore from the state of Andhra Pradesh
Death, disease, and violence—manifesting as Mrityu, Shitala, and Korravai—humble the man who boasts of the grandeur of civilization. They are reminders that beyond that square of civilization, untamed by the laws of man, unexplained by logic, there exists a primal power that can overwhelm society anytime.
No law, no doctrine, no morals, no ethics, no barriers or boundaries can keep disease out of society. Rationality and repression come to naught when a little baby, red with rash and puckered with pox, burns with fever. Duty and detachment are waylaid as the primal urge for survival takes over. Unable to bear her child’s delirious cry, the Hindu mother rushes to the shrine of Jari-Mari, the fiery goddess of fever, with gifts of bridal finery—vermilion and turmeric powder, bangles, flowers, a red sari, and some sweets. She sings songs to appease her wrath. She begs the goddess to turn into Shitala, the cool goddess of health.
The folk tradition of Hinduism recognizes innumerable malevolent female spirits who harm children. Even Krishna, the greatest of Vishnu’s earthly incarnations, had to face one when he was a child:
When Kamsa learned that his newborn killer was being raised in secret, he ordered the wet nurse Putana to go round his kingdom and poison every newborn child with the venomous milk in her breasts. Putana did as she was told and soon mothers in surrounding villages were mourning over infant corpses. Putana finally came upon the baby Krishna in the house of Nanda in the village of cowherds. She slipped into the house when no one was around and began nursing the divine child. Her poisoned milk did not harm Krishna. Instead, he sucked out her life through her nipples.
Bhagvata Purana
The fever-goddess enters houses where the divine protector of children—known as Sasthi in Bengal and Satavai in Maharashtra—is not worshipped on the sixth day after the birth of a child:
Priyavarta, son of the patriarch Manu, did not want to marry, but he was compelled by his father to do so. His wife, Malini, did not conceive for many years. After many rituals propitiating the mother-goddess, she became pregnant. But for twelve years she could not deliver the child. After many prayers to the mother-goddess, the child finally emerged but was stillborn. Priyavarta invoked the mother-goddess once again. She appeared in the form of Sasthi. She restored the child to life but refused to give it to Priyavarta until he promised to institute her worship on the sixth day of a child’s life.
Folklore from the state of Bengal
On the sixth day Sasthi enters the house and writes the fate of the child on its forehead with invisible ink. Just as a female cat grabs helpless kittens by the scruff of the neck and keeps them safe from predators, Sasthi fiercely protects infants from fevers when her powers are invoked. Sasthi is therefore closely associated with female cats:
A merchant’s wife prepared numerous delicacies for the goddess Sasthi in the hope that her daughter-in-law would bear many healthy children. Leaving her daughter-in-law to guard the food, she went to the river to bathe before making the offering. While she was away, the daughter-in-law could not resist eating the delicacies. When the merchant’s wife returned, she discovered that all the plates were empty. “Where did the food go?” “They were eaten by a cat,” said the daughter-in-law. This false accusation made Sasthi very angry, as she loved cats. She decided to teach the liar a lesson. Every time the daughter-in-law delivered a child, Sasthi sent her cat to eat the newborn. When seven babies had been thus killed, the merchant’s wife suspected that someone had displeased Sasthi. So she fasted and invoked the goddess, who revealed all. Apologizing for her daughter-in-law, the merchant’s wife promised to feed and look after all the cats in her village. This made Sasthi happy, and she brought the seven dead children to life.
Folklore from the state of West Bengal
The divine child killer is considered the outraged and primal manifestation of the divine child savior:
King Brihadratha of Magadha, who had two queens but no son, chanced upon a magic mango that could make a woman pregnant. Not wanting to play favorites, the king cut the fruit in two and gave one half to each queen. As expected, they became pregnant, but nine months later delivered two lumps of flesh— each, one half of a full child. The lumps of flesh were thrown outside the palace gates, where they were discovered by a flesh-eating ogress called Jara. When she put the two halves together, the child miraculously came to life and began to cry. The boy, thus born, was named Jarasandha after the ogress. The king Brihadratha declared that Jara would no longer be feared in his kingdom as the killer of babies but would be revered in his land as the savior of children. Those who did not revere her would have to face her wrath.
Mahabharata, folklore
from the state of Maharashtra
Though transformed into a child protector, Jara can always revert to her killer form if she is not adored. Her arrival as Jari-Mari is never met with hostility. That can make the situation worse. Instead, she is welcomed and her forgiveness sought. Neem leaves are hung on the doorstep to inform neighbors that the goddess has entered the house. Neem is a medicinal tree with antiseptic and antiviral qualities and is rubbed on the body to reduce itching and secondary infections. When the leaves are put up, women in the neighborhood rush to the temple of Jari-Mari with gifts lest the fiery goddess enter their homes and harm their little ones.
In many parts of India Jari-Mari has no permanent shrine. She roams the countryside with a bag of pox on a donkey accompanied by Jvara, the six-eyed, six-armed, three-headed, three-legged goblin of fever. A small portable shrine to Mari is sometimes carried from village to village by a woman whose husband whips himself while she beats a drum. Mothers whose children are ill reward the man that he may punish himself for their lapses and thus please the angry goddess. If the child survives, it is considered blessed by the goddess; in memory of the goddess who was gracious enough to forgive, the child thus wears a talisman.
A composite shrine to Jari-Mari-Shitala-Sasthi is usually just a rock smeared with red and yellow powder located under a banyan or neem tree outside the village boundaries. The shrine is not maintained by any priest and is often neglected until calamity strikes.
The shrine of the Matrika mothers is also located in the wilderness, usually on a riverbank or next to a lake, and it is comprised of six to seven vermilion-smeared stones. The Matrikas represent the dark side of water-nymphs. While apsaras seduce sages and give birth to children, the Matrika mothers kill fetuses and newborns unless placated with gifts of bridal finery.
Behind these child-afflicting goddesses is the belief that women who are denied conjugal and maternal bliss vent their frustration by harming children and causing pain to mothers:
Shiva’s seed was so powerful that a child born of it could kill the asura Taraka on the seventh day of its life. The devas begged Shiva to give them his seed, but such was its radiance that even the fire-god Agni could not hold it for long. So he cast it into the icy waters of the River Ganga. It so happened that the seven wives of the seven cosmic seers were bathing in these waters. The river water, potent with Shiva’s seed, made six of them pregnant. Arundhati, the seventh sage’s wife, was so devoted to her husband, Vasistha, that the power of her chastity protected her from succumbing to the water’s potency. On learning of the pregnancies, the seven cosmic seers accused the six women of adultery and drove them out. In despair, the women cast out the unwanted embryos from their wombs. The six embryos fell into a marsh and set the reeds ablaze. In the heat of the fire the six embryos fused together and transformed into a radiant child with six heads and twelve arms. When the women heard the child cry, they decided to kill him. However, when they saw the child, milk oozed out of their breasts and they were overwhelmed with maternal affection. They nursed the child. With each of his six heads, the child suckled the breasts of his six mothers. Because the women were known as Kritikas, the child came to be known as Kartikeya. Kartikeya went on to kill Taraka. When the Kritikas lamented the loss of their marital status and expressed their desire to disrupt pregnancies and kill children—be-cause their fertility was the cause of their misfortune—Kartikeya said, “You are my beloved mothers, the Matrikas. Feel free to harm children of those women who do not revere you as suhagans.”
Matrikas, the wild mothers who harm children unless appeased. Relief on wall of Chalukya sanctuary; Aihole, Karnataka. Sixth century.
Mahabharata, Skanda Purana
A suhagan is the embodiment of womanly virtue in Hinduism. She represents Nature at her domesticated best. As the chaste, fertile, and loving matriarch whose husband is alive, whose children are healthy, and whose household is prosperous, she is considered auspicious, worthy of adoration and reverence. Arundhati, the only wife who did not become pregnant in the above story, is the celestial suhagan.
Once Arundhati along with the Kritikas sat in the celestial sphere alongside their husbands, the seven cosmic seers, who form the Great Bear constellation. After their rejection, the Kritikas moved away to form the Pleiades constellation. The chaste Arundhati was allowed to remain near the Great Bear as the star Alkor.
To the Hindus, the Arundhati star represents the ideal wife. Its rather faint light is likened to the unawakened desire of the bride. On wedding nights, to help develop intimacy between newlyweds, the groom is advised to play the game “Let’s Spot the Arundhati Star” with his wife. “Look at that star,” he says, pointing to a bright star not far from Arundhati. As the wife turns to look at it, he caresses her arms, shoulders, and neck, but then says, “No, that is not Arundhati.” He then points to another star and then another and then another, each time going nearer to Arundhati, interspersing each stage with caresses on the breasts, waist, navel, each time going nearer and nearer to her pubic area. This progression toward the star is repeated and when the destination is reached, the groom introduces the bride to the mysteries of marriage.
The Kritikas or Matrikas resent Arundhati’s exalted status. Though they are mothers, they are not wives, and hence lack social status. Spurned by their husbands on the grounds of infidelity, they have no place in samaja or the civilized world. This makes them eternally jealous of wives and mothers. They transform into wild and ferocious beings waiting for an opportunity to overwhelm the domesticated realm.
Texts describe the Matrikas as malevolent spirits with long nails, large teeth, shriveled breasts, and protruding lips who lurk outside human settlements, near crossroads, in caves, on hills, in burning grounds, beside riverbanks, near springs, and in forests. Deadly fevers are a manifestation of their rage and resentment. Their frustration abates only when they are offered bridal finery and treated as suhagans.
The idea that to be a suhagan is the ultimate aim of a woman and its denial transforms one into an angry goddess reverberates in folk stories of devis, matas, ammans, and other divine females who populate the Indian countryside. In southern India one comes across temples of Pattini, the chaste wife who became a widow before she could become a mother. Those responsible for her fate had to pay a terrible price:
Kannagi suffered silently while her husband, Kovalan, spent all his time with a courtesan. When all his money was gone, the courtesan threw Kovalan out of her house. Penniless, Kovalan turned to family and friends for help. They all rejected the philanderer. Only Kannagi stood by him. Together they set out to the city of Madurai to start life afresh. To help Kovalan raise capital for his business, Kannagi gave him one of her gold anklets. When Kovalan offered this anklet for sale in the market, the goldsmiths accused him of stealing the queen’s jewelry. They took him to the king, who ordered his immediate execution. When Kannagi learned how her husband had been put to death, she strode into the royal palace, presented her other anklet, proved her husband’s innocence, and demanded justice. “Give me back my husband,” she cried. When there was no response, she plucked off one of her breasts and hurled it into the city square. Instantly the whole city of Madurai was engulfed in flames. All its residents—who had stood silently by while Kannagi’s innocent husband was being put to death—were burnt alive. Tales of how Kannagi destroyed the city of Madurai spread across the countryside. Residents of neighboring villages enshrined her images in temples and began worshipping her as a goddess.
Shilappadikaram
Kannagi’s power to destroy an entire city comes from her bottled-up creative energy. With her husband, she would have used this energy to produce babies and make a home. Without him, her festering creative energy transforms into destructive energy. The mother thus becomes a killer.
Another woman transformed into a killer-goddess after her husband rejected her:
The sage Jaratkaru married Manasi, the sister of Vasuki, king of serpents. She served him dutifully. One day he took a siesta, placing his head on her lap. Hours passed. Jaratkaru showed no signs of waking up, and Manasi remained rooted to the spot, not wanting to move or wake him up. As the sun was about to set, Manasi realized it was time for her husband to perform the evening rituals. If he did not do it on time, he could risk the wrath of nocturnal spirits. So with great hesitation, she roused her husband from his peaceful slumber. Jaratkaru was furious. “How dare you wake me up? I would have woken up on my own to perform the ritual on time.” Because Manasi had broken the vow of total obedience, Jaratkaru abandoned her.
Mahabharata
Divorced women, though unwidowed, are not quite suhagans. Though she bears a child, Manasi’s rejection by her husband prevents her from attaining the exalted status of a matriarch. In her quest for dignity, Manasi demands worship by sending serpents that kill those who disregard her existence. The tale of the goddess of snakebites, also known as Manasa, is popular in the eastern state of Bengal:
The goddess Manasa appeared before a merchant and demanded that he worship her. The merchant worshipped only Shiva and ignored Manasa’s demand. Furious, the goddess destroyed his ships and reduced him to abject poverty. Then, appearing as a damsel, she won his heart. But she refused to make love to him until he began worshipping Manasa. The merchant preferred breaking up with her to worshipping the goddess of snakes. Finally, Manasa sent her serpents to bite and kill the merchant’s only son on his wedding night. She promised to revive him only if the merchant offered flowers at her temple. The merchant gave in. The goddess was pleased and the merchant’s son came back to life.
Folklore from the state of Bengal
One little-known folk goddess brings joy only when she is given gifts of bridal finery because she lost the opportunity to be a bride:
A king once saw a beautiful girl in the fields. Overwhelmed by desire, he ordered her to come to the royal garden at night bedecked as a bride. To save her honor, her twin brother went in her place dressed as a woman. The sister saw the king make love to her brother. The deed hardly seemed dishonorable. She saw the passion in the king’s face and joy in her brother’s eyes. Feeling deprived and rejected, she transformed into a fiery goddess, raised her sword, killed the king and her brother, and took refuge in the forest.
Folklore from the state of Tamil Nadu
To the east of India, in the state of Gujarat, is the temple of Bahuchera, who is the patron goddess of eunuchs, transvestites, and cross-dressing homosexuals. She is described as riding a brightly colored Indian rooster. There are many legends associated with her. In each she is deprived of the pleasures of being a wife:
Bahuchera was on her way to a fair when she was attacked by a thief called Bapiya. To save herself from abduction and rape, she cut her breasts. As she bled to death, she cursed her attacker: “May you become impotent.” When Bapiya begged for mercy, she said, “You will attain salvation only if you build a temple in my honor and live in it dressed as a woman.” Since that day, impotent men, hermaphrodites, transsexuals, and transvestites have worshipped the goddess Bahuchera, believing that their sexuality that prevents them from marrying women and having a family is the result of offending women in the past life.
Folklore from the state of Gujarat
In another story the goddess laments her fate when she discovers that her husband is incapable of having sex with her:
Once a prince did not want to get married. But his parents forced him to tie the knot with a beautiful princess. Every night the princess waited for her groom, but he would not come to her bed. Instead, he would ride into the forest on his horse. The princess decided to in-vestigate and followed the prince. Because she had no horse, she rode a rooster and came upon a clearing in the forest, where she found her husband having sex with other men. “Why then did you marry me and ruin my life if you do not desire women?” she asked angrily. She then cut off his genitals. Her fury and unfulfilled desire transformed her into the goddess Bahuchera. The prince wore women’s clothes and worshipped her, praying for his salvation.
Folklore from the state of Gujarat
The goddess fumes with sexual frustration. She often appears in the dreams of men, usually homosexuals, and demands that they castrate themselves, dress up as women, and serve her in her temple. Thus the goddess protects women from being tricked into sterile unions.
Homosexuality represents another manifestation of Nature’s unfathomable secrets that confounds samaja. It appears with unfailing regularity within the square of civilization. The female homosexual does not disrupt the social edifice, as female arousal is not necessary for conception and the lesbian’s desire can be hidden or brutally suppressed in the patriarch’s harem. But the male homosexual poses a problem. Though part of the wheel of existence, his biological urges do not help rotate the cycle of life. He is capable of performing his social duties but incapable of fulfilling his biological obligations. A nymph can at least seduce the heterosexual ascetic. She fails before the homosexual householder. In ancient India such a man had two options. He could live within society, marry, and—for children—practice levirate, inviting a brother or priest to impregnate his wife. Or he could leave home, castrate himself, don female apparel, suffer the burden of his karma, and worship goddesses in the hope of being born a heterosexual in his next life.
There is no such word as homosexual in the Indian vocabulary. Words such as kliba or napunsaka—which, roughly translated, mean “not quite a man”—are used in a derogatory manner for men incapable of fulfilling their biological obligation because of a physical defect or mental quirk. The social engineers who wrote the Dharmashastras, unable to find a place for male homosexuals within the heterosexual scheme of things, treated them with derision. They were not allowed to participate in religious ceremonies or inherit property.
All across India there are isolated communities of feminine men known as hijras. These are a mixture of hermaphrodites, transsexuals, eunuchs, and cross-dressing homosexuals. They are treated with a mixture of fear, disgust, and sympathy. Samaja tolerates their existence on the fringes of civilization, where Nature and society intermingle. Some serve in brothels and in women’s apartments as cooks, cleaners, and catamites. Others live celibate lives in temples. They become priestesses of the goddess, sharing her frustration at being unable to share the joys of the household. They are invited to drive away malevolent spirits with their song and dance. They are invited to wedding ceremonies and to houses of barren women to sing, dance, invoke the goddess, and usher in fertility. They visit houses soon after a child is born to check its genitals. If all is normal, they congratulate the patriarch’s fortune and demand gifts that become their means of livelihood. If the genitals are misshapen, they take the child away and raise it as a hijra. The child is thus saved from social ignominy and certain death.
Though tales with homosexual themes are extremely rare in sacred Hindu lore, cross-dressing is commonly resorted to by heroes to beguile their enemies:
Draupadi, wife of the five Pandava brothers, who had been publicly humiliated by Duryodhana, the Kaurava, vowed not to braid her hair until she could use Duryodhana’s thighbone as her comb. She was told that the defeat of Duryodhana would be possible only if her husbands obtained a sacred whip, sword, drum, casket, and lamp belonging to a warlord called Gurulingam. To get these sacred artifacts, Arjuna, Draupadi’s favorite husband, approached Gurulingam’s son Pormannan disguised as a beautiful girl called Vijayampal and enticed him with her charms. Pormannan agreed to kill his own father, Gurulingam, and give Vijayampal the sacred objects of worship if she became his wife. But when the deed was done and the gifts given, Poramannan was shocked to find that his beloved Vijayampal was a man! Undaunted, he demanded the Pandavas give him a wife, as Arjuna had aroused his hunger but left him unsatiated. They gave him their younger sister, Cankuvati. Poramannan became the guardian of his sister-in-law Draupadi and helped her forces defeat Duryodhana.
Folklore from the state of Tamil Nadu
Tales of men dressing as women are far more common than tales of women dressing as men.
Society tries its best to bridle the sexual urge and restrain it to the childbearing process. Yet occasionally, the full force of sexual desire makes itself felt. Adulterous desires cause a suhagan to risk all that society holds dear. The rejected adulteress transforms into the divine patron of harlots, who absorb the unbridled lust of men that could otherwise disrupt social order:
Metal head of the goddess Renuka-Yellamma, placed on rims of earthenware pots and wicker baskets to create an effigy of the mother-goddess. Twentieth century.
Ordered by his father, Parashurama beheaded his mother, Renuka, who had experienced adulterous thoughts after looking upon a gandharva. Pleased with this display of unquestioning obedience, the sage Jamadagni offered Parashurama a boon. He demanded his mother be restored to life. “Bring me her head and I will rejoin it to her body,” said Jamadagni. However, Parashurama could not find the head. “In that case, find me the head of another woman who parts with it willingly,” said Jamadagni. Parashurama roamed the world and found Yellamma, a low-caste woman, who agreed to be beheaded so that Renuka may live. Pleased with Yellamma’s sacrifice, Parashurama, who was Vishnu incarnate, declared that she would be worshipped as a goddess.
Folklore from the states of
Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka,
and Maharashtra
In another version of the story, there is a misplacement of heads:
When Parashurama raised his ax to behead Renuka, she ran and took refuge in the house of a low-caste woman called Yellamma. Yellamma tried to stop Parashurama from killing Renuka by coming between mother and son. Parashurama swung his ax anyway and beheaded both women. Later the sage Jamadagni gave Parashurama a pot of magic water to revive both women. In his hurry to restore his mother to life, he exchanged the heads of the two women. Thus he put Renuka’s head on Yellamma’s body and Yellamma’s head on Renuka’s body. When this was realized, Jamadagni accepted the woman with the chaste head and high-caste body as his wife. The woman with the unchaste head and a low-caste body became a goddess.
Folklore from the states of
Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka,
and Maharashtra
Renuka means “soil maiden.” Yellamma means “everybody’s mother.” She is the benevolent earth mother, free from the fence of matrimony, who accepts all seeds without discrimination. Women known as devadasis, “servants of god,” carry a metal effigy of her head attached to the rim of a basket or pot. As diminutive doubles of the goddess, these women have no husbands; they make themselves available to whoever desires them sexually. This, society hopes, satisfies the potential rapist and protects the edifice of family life based on female chastity.
The devadasis live on alms. Their children have no father and no lineage. Girls, like their mothers, are dedicated to the goddess. Boys are also turned into devadasis, made to wear female apparel and serve as catamites. The boys are known as jogatis. Like the goddess, who was rejected by her husband, they are social outcasts. Right from birth they are made to believe that marriage and family life is not for them, and that their role as prostitutes is vital in the scheme of civilization. The exploitation of devadasis, who mostly belong to the lower socioeconomic strata of society, is a major sociopolitical issue today.
Courtesans have always been part of Hindu civilization. Hundreds of women once served as sacred prostitutes in the great temple complexes of southern India. They were given in marriage to the presiding deity, and they entertained the idol with performances in the great dance hall located right in front of the sanctum sanctorum. Because they never became widows, they were adored as sada suhagans, eternal brides.
The public wives or courtesans of ancient Hindu society were also highly cultured and educated women. Trained in sixty-four ways to arouse the mind and the senses, these women were considered earthly manifestations of celestial damsels. Rich and powerful men sought them as mistresses. They gradually became symbols of power and fortune. Because beauty, wealth, and luxury always surrounded them, they were considered especially blessed by Laxmi, goddess of fortune. Mud from brothels was used while laying down the foundations of a new house to usher in prosperity. This mud was also used to make idols of the mother-goddess. These women were considered auspicious because they never became widows and were hence eternally lucky akhanda sowbhagyavatis. Merchants preferred to look upon their faces before setting out with their caravans. They were invited to wedding ceremonies to tie the marriage thread known as mangalasutra around the wife’s neck, to wish her happiness, and to bless her that she may never know the fate of a widow.
Widowhood in India is considered a terrible fate. When the husband dies, a woman becomes an inauspicious widow. The red dot on her forehead is wiped off. Her bangles are broken. Her bright clothes are removed. Shorn of flowers and jewelry, she is draped in white robes and made to live in isolation, unseen by male eyes. Traditionally, even her head was shaved.
Many believe that a widow is made unattractive for her own good to protect her from rapists. With her husband gone, there is no one to protect her honor. But husbands are not always capable of protecting their wives:
Yudhishtira, the eldest of the five Pandava brothers, gambled away his kingdom, his brothers, himself, and finally their common wife, Draupadi, to their archenemies, the Kauravas. The Kauravas dragged Draupadi by the hair into the gambling hall and decided to humiliate the proud Pandava queen by disrobing her in public. This happened during Draupadi’s menstrual period. Bound by the rules of the game and the laws of civilization, none of the kings, warriors, and noblemen assembled in the Kaurava court came to Draupadi’s rescue. She stood there bleeding, naked, with hair unbound, seething with fury. Through tearful bloodshot eyes, she looked at her five husbands, who hung their heads in shame. The laws of dharma had failed in their promise to protect her. Man had abused her and would pay a terrible price. In her fury, Draupadi took an oath that she would not tie her hair until she had washed it with the blood of Kauravas.
Mahabharata
In the traditional retelling of the Mahabharata Draupadi is not disrobed. As the Kaurava Dushasana tugs on Draupadi’s sari, he pulls out several hundred yards of cloth, and the sari is never undone. The miracle is attributed to Krishna, who is guardian of dharma and Vishnu incarnate. When Duryodhana orders Draupadi to sit on his left thigh—a place reserved for wives and concubines—the Pandava Bhima loses his temper and swears to break Duryodhana’s thigh. All this does not stop Draupadi from taking her vow to wash her hair in blood. In one Tamil folk version of the Mahabharata, Draupadi’s vow is more fierce, more dark. “I will wash my hair in Dushasana’s blood. I will comb it with Duryodhana’s hair. With Kaurava entrails will I tie it up, and with their hearts I will decorate it.” As this vow is voiced, Draupadi with unbound hair appears less like the royal matriarch, queen of Indraprastha, wife of the five Pandavas, and mother of their five sons. She seems more a killer-goddess. The Kauravas transform into demons, the Pandavas into gods, with Krishna doing for them what Vishnu does for devas.
Draupadi being disrobed in public by the Kauravas, while her husbands, the Pandavas, watch helplessly. Twentieth century calendar art.
Draupadi is no ordinary woman in the epic. She was not conceived as mortals are:
King Drupada invited the sage Upayaja to perform a yagna and produce water potent enough to conceive a powerful child. When the water was prepared, Drupada’s queen had gone for her bath and was not ready to receive it. The impatient Upayaja poured the water into the fire altar. Out came a beautiful woman called Draupadi.
Mahabharata
In the epic Krishna strikes a deal, and the Kauravas promise to return the Pandava kingdom after they spend thirteen years in the forest. At the end of the period of exile, the Kauravas go back on their words. This leads to a terrible war on the fields of Kurukshetra with echoes of the celestial battles between the devas and the asuras. Bhima kills each and every Kaurava and helps Draupadi wash her hair in blood. He even drinks blood, thus taking the role of Bhairava, the minion of the primal goddess.
In classical versions, during the thirteen-year exile, Draupadi’s unbound hair constantly reminds her husbands of how they failed her as husbands. It indicates to the Pandavas that they have lost their marital rights over their common wife.
Hair has traditionally been used as the symbol of femininity in general and fertility in particular. Plaited hair, without flowers, represents the dormant fertility of a prepubescent virgin. Plaited hair with flowers represents the roused fertility of an unmarried girl. Parted hair with the parting smeared with red powder known as kumkum acknowledges a woman’s realized fertility and her domestication by marriage. The shaved heads of widows and of nuns represent fertility that is crushed. Unbound hair represents free and wild fertility, unrestrained by any man. It is the hair of kumari, the divine warrior maiden.
Despite the low status of widows in Hindu society, one woman killed her own husband and transformed into a goddess:
A sweeper fell in love with Dayamava, the daughter of a priest. Posing as a priest, he married her and brought her to his mother’s house. Unaware that her husband was a low-caste sweeper, the high-caste Dayamava served him with devotion and bore him many children. One day, during dinner, her mother-in-law remarked that the food tasted like cow’s tongue. Dayamava recoiled in horror, because only sweepers eat the carcasses of cows. Priests are supposed to be vegetarians. Realizing she had been duped by her husband, Dayamava raised a sickle, killed her mother-in-law and her children, and burnt the house. In fear, her husband ran out in the form of a male buffalo. Dayamava chased him, caught him by the horns, pinned him down with her foot, and beheaded him.
Folklore from the state of Karnataka
Dayamava is a village goddess known by many names in southern India. In annual festivals her buffalo husband—decorated with neem leaves, turmeric, and vermilion powder—is sacrificed before her shrine and her widowhood reenacted. The red dot on her forehead is wiped off, her bangles are broken, and her magalasutra, the auspicious necklace of a bride, is pulled away. However, her hair is not shaved off. It is simply left unbound as she transforms into an autonomous warrior-goddess.
The most popular warrior-goddess of sacred Hindu lore is Durga:
The buffalo-demon Mahisha could be killed only by a woman. Unable to defeat him in battle, Indra and the devas led by Vishnu went to Brahma, the creator, and requested him to create a woman who would kill Mahisha. Brahma led all the gods to Shiva on Mount Kailas. Shiva, roused out of his meditation by the pandemonium caused by Mahisha, swelled with wrath. His rage poured forth as fire from his mouth. The other gods, who stood around him, also opened their mouths and let loose their unrestrained powers as sheets and streams of flame. The fires rushed together, combining in a flaming cloud that grew and grew and ultimately condensed into a ball of blinding light, out of which emerged a magnificent goddess with many arms called Durga. Armed with weapons given to her by the devas, the goddess rode into battle on a lion and challenged Mahisha to a combat. The asura came onto the battlefield and, roused by her beauty, proposed marriage. The goddess laughed and promised to marry him if he could defeat her in duel. In the fight that followed Mahisha attacked Durga in the form of an elephant, a lion, and finally a buffalo. She defeated him each time. Finally she caught hold of the buffalo-demon’s horns, smote him with her tender feet, pinned him to the ground with her trident, and beheaded him with her scimitar.
Devi Bhagvatam
The stories of Dayamava and Durga are remarkably similar. In both a woman kills a buffalo. While in the Dayamava story the protagonist is a mortal woman and the buffalo is her husband, in the Durga story the protagonist is a goddess and the buffalo, a demon who harasses the gods. In both stories the female character turns wild and dangerous after being liberated from male control. Dayamava shrugs off her husband’s marital right obtained through trickery. Durga comes into being when the gods let loose their wild energies, their shaktis, confined and restrained within their physical frame. Dayamava decides of her own free will that her husband must die. Durga, on the other hand, is created by the gods and instructed to kill the buffalo-demon who troubles them. In both stories romance is shredded violently. Dayamava kills her husband on discovering that he had seduced her with a lie. Durga kills Mahisha incensed by his proposal of marriage.
Durga, the virgin warrior-goddess, battling the buffalo-demon. Stone carving; Mamallapuram, Tamil Nadu. Seventh century.
Many scholars believe that Durga is the polished and patriarchal version of a primal matriarchal goddess. In Himachal Pradesh, a state in northern India, a buffalo-god known as Mahasu is worshipped by villagers as a manifestation of Shiva. In the western state of Maharashtra, too, Mhasoba, the buffalo father, is a folk god identified with Shiva.
Some classical Hindu scriptures do suggest that the buffalo-demon could be in some way related to Shiva:
When Durga severed Mahisha’s neck, she found a linga within. In his past life Mahisha was a devotee of Shiva, but a curse turned him into a buffalo. While grazing, he accidentally swallowed a linga that stuck in his throat.
Skanda Purana
In other classical Hindu texts Mahisha’s ungodly origins are stressed:
The asura Rambha made love to a female buffalo named Mahishi and brought her to the nether regions as his wife. The asuras, disgusted by the union of demon and beast, drove them out. Eventually Mahishi gave birth to the buffalo-demon Mahisha. Soon after, Mahishi caught the eye of a wild male buffalo who gored his rival Rambha to death. In despair, Mahishi killed herself on her husband’s funeral pyre. The lovesick male buffalo drowned himself. The orphaned Mahisha performed austerities and invoked Brahma, who bestowed upon him the boon of dying only at the hands of a woman. Believing women to be too weak to fight, Mahisha assumed his invincibility. He raised an army of asuras and drove the devas out of Amravati.
Vamana Purana
Shiva is popularly believed to be Durga’s consort. But the goddess is never depicted sitting beside him as a demure wife. Her name, Durga—meaning “inaccessible, unconquerable one”—acknowledges her autonomy. She is often called kumari, which is generally translated to mean “virgin.” But as the manifestation of Parvati, whose lovemaking with Shiva sustains the universe, Durga can hardly be considered a virgin. Perhaps kumari simply means “unattached to a man.” As a consort, a goddess is largely a mother. In autonomy, she turns into a killer.
Often a warrior-goddess is not just kumari. She is also kanya, a prepubescent girl. The patron goddess of the kingdom of Nepal known as Taleju is a kumari and a kanya:
The king of Nepal invited the goddess Taleju, guardian of his kingdom, to a game of dice. As they played, the king looked upon her with eyes of desire. Enraged, the goddess disappeared, leaving the borders of Nepal open to all intruders. The king begged for mercy. Finally, the goddess promised to protect Nepal so long as the king worshipped her in the form of a prepubescent girl who does not arouse sexual desires.
Every few years, under orders of the Hindu monarch of Nepal, premenstrual girls from the family of goldsmiths are made to witness the slaughtering of male buffaloes. Girls who witness it without showing any sign of fear are considered manifestations of the goddess. One of them is enshrined in the temple and worshipped by the king himself. The child-goddess loses her divinity as soon as she menstruates.
Goddesses never menstruate. Menstrual blood contains their power. When they sit beside a male god, this power is domesticated. Beside Shiva, Parvati is demure and maternal. Without the male god, however, the power becomes destructive energy that the gods direct toward their enemies:
From the bodies of the gods emerged their shaktis in female form. Vaishnavi emerged from Vishnu, holding a discus, riding an eagle. Shivani emerged from Shiva, bearing a trident, riding a bull. Brahmani emerged from Brahma, holding a rosary, riding a swan. Kaumari emerged from Kumara, holding a lance, riding a peacock. Indrani emerged from Indra, holding a bow, riding an elephant. The lion woman Narasimhi emerged out of the lion man Narasimha. The wild sow Varahi emerged from the wild boar Varaha. Together these seven warrior women tore down the demon army, killed all the asuras, and drank their blood.
Vamana Purana, Devi Bhagvatam
The power of the gods is domesticated within their male forms. When released, they transform into a terrifying horde of wild goddesses. These warrior-goddesses are always shown as autonomous beings who surround and serve the great goddess.
When the gods need the help of a woman in their battles against the demons, they prevent her from getting married, fearing that matrimony and maternity will tame her power and render her useless as a warrior:
Punyakshi wanted to marry Shiva, but the gods would not permit it because only as a virgin did Punyakshi have the power to kill demons. To thwart her marriage plans, they declared that only a man who could give Punyakshi’s father a betel leaf without veins, a sugarcane without rings, and a coconut without eyes could claim her as his wife. In answer to Punyakshi’s prayer, Shiva conjured these gifts and became the chosen groom. Punyakshi’s father began wedding preparations and sent for the astrologer to determine an auspicious hour for the marriage ceremony. “She can marry this very night or at the end of time,” said the astrologer, who was in fact Indra in disguise. Shiva immediately set out from his mountainous abode in the north of India. Punyakshi’s village stood on the southern tip of the continent. The journey was a long one, and the gods were confident Shiva would not make it. But Shiva used his powers and covered the distance rapidly. Fearing he would make it to the wedding, Indra took the form of a rooster and began to crow in the middle of the night. Tricked into thinking that it was daybreak and the auspicious hour of marriage had passed, Shiva turned around. When dawn came and there was no sign of the groom, the wedding guests departed. Frustrated, Punyakshi kicked the pots of food prepared for the wedding banquet. These turned into grains of sand. She washed her face in the sea and the cosmetics colored the sea. Demons mocked her fate and proposed marriage. In her rage, Punyakshi picked up her sickle and killed them all. Punyakshi then stood on the southern tip of India and decided to wait for Shiva until the end of time. She became renowned as the goddess Kanyakumari, the virgin goddess.
Kanyakumari Sthala Purana
Another goddess used her virginal powers to kill the man who tried to rape her:
Trikuta wanted to marry Rama, prince of Ayodhya. But Rama was married to Sita and he refused to take a second wife. So Trikuta became a nun and lived an ascetic life. One day a Tantrik, Bhairo, visited her house and asked for food. In keeping with the laws of hospitality, she served him a meal. Bhairo objected to the vegetarian food placed before him. He also demanded sex and wine. When Trikuta refused, Bhairo tried to molest her. Trikuta ran out of the hermitage. Bhairo pursued her. Trikuta’s companion, a monkey, tried to stop him but failed. Finally tired of running, Trikuta turned on her pursuer. She raised her sword and beheaded him. As his head was severed, Bhairo pleaded for mercy and acknowledged her as the primal mother. Trikuta accepted him as her child.
Folklore from the state of Jammu
Trikuta is worshipped as Vaishnavi in the Jammu valley to the north of India. Unlike most warrior-goddesses, who are considered manifestations of Shiva’s consort, Vaishnavi is linked to Vishnu, hence vegetarian. This makes her unique, because most warrior-goddesses receive blood sacrifice of male animals.
Taleju, Punyakshi, Durga, and Dayamava are all considered manifestations of Parvati and are referred to as kumari-matas, virgin mothers. But the goddess Parvati is neither a virgin nor a mother, at least not in the conventional sense of the term. Her womb never bears fruit. Her lovemaking with Shiva sustains the universe. The gods wanted her to get married so that Shiva would father a child. Interestingly, they prevent Parvati from accepting that seed in her womb:
The gods wanted Shiva to father a child who would help them defeat demons. The goddess Parvati succeeded in winning Shiva as a husband. As they made love, the gods knew that Parvati would milk out Shiva’s semen, but they did not want her to get pregnant. “Born of Shiva’s seed and nurtured in Parvati’s womb, the child will be more powerful than Indra,” said the devas. So they sent the fire-god Agni to disturb the love play of the divine couple. Agni took the form of a bird and entered their cave. Embarrassed by the intrusion, the goddess turned away from Shiva, and Shiva spurted his seed into the fire-god’s mouth. Out of this seed was born Kartikeya, commander of the celestial armies.
Kalika Purana, Brahmanda Purana,
Vamana Purana
The gods fear that Shiva’s child by Parvati will be more powerful than them. So they transfer Shiva’s seed into another womb, but its radiance is too strong for anyone to bear. Neither the fire-god Agni nor the river-goddess Ganga can hold it for long. So it is split into six parts, nurtured in the wombs of the six Kritika maidens, and ultimately transformed into a six-headed divine warlord named Kartikeya after the Kritikas. Another reason that the gods do not want Parvati to bear a child, perhaps, is that maternity will drain her power and prevent her from transforming into a killer-goddess.
Parvati is so furious at being unable to realize her maternal potential that she curses the gods:
The goddess made love to Shiva in the hope of bearing his child. But her love play was disturbed and the gods took away Shiva’s seed. In her rage, Parvati cursed the gods that they would never have children.
Brahmavaivarta Purana
Parvati wants to be a mother but Shiva tells her, “I am an ascetic and do not wish to be burdened with children or family. I am immortal, have no ancestors, and need no sons to offer oblations to dead forefathers or to continue my lineage.” Still, the goddess wants a child, so she bears one without a husband. The child thus born is called Vinayaka, “he who was conceived without a man”:
Shiva refused to give Parvati a child, so she created one on her own. She anointed her skin with oil and turmeric, scraped it off, and molded Vinayaka out of it. She ordered him to guard her cave and prevent all from entering it. Vinayaka—who had never before seen his mother’s consort—stopped Shiva from entering Parvati’s abode. Enraged, Shiva raised his trident and beheaded his son. When Parvati saw her son’s headless body, she was so angry that her anger turned into ferocious yoginis who threatened to destroy the entire cosmos. To appease his consort, Shiva revived Vinayaka by replacing his severed head with that of an elephant. He acknowledged the resurrected child as the first of his followers, Ganapati.
Shiva Purana, Vamana Purana
Tales of autonomous women who bear children without male help is also found in tribal lore:
A man had five daughters. While four of them wanted husbands and children, the youngest wanted only children, no husband. The four elder girls turned into the mango, tamarind, fig, and berry trees; the youngest girl, Kadali, turned into a plantain—a plant that many believe produces fruits parthogenically without any cross-pollination or involvement of birds and bees.
Tribal lore from central India
The plantain is a sacred plant used to mark the corners of any sacred altar. It is seen as the symbol of the autonomous creative energy of the goddess.
The idea that the son loves and protects the mother more than her husband does is very strong in India:
Vinata, mother of birds, and Kadru, mother of serpents, were two wives of the sage Kashyapa. Vinata believed that the divine horse Ucchaishrava was spotlessly white. Kadru believed it had a black tail. Vinata was so confident that she was right that she told Kadru, “If you can prove that Ucchaishrava’s tail is black, not white, then I will be your slave.” Kadru ordered her children, the serpents, to cling to the tail of the divine horse as it rode past the horizon at dawn the next day so that it appeared to have a black tail from afar. By this deceit, Kadru won the wager and made Vinata her slave, demanding divine nectar, as the price of her freedom. Garuda, mightiest of Vinata’s sons, fought the gods, stole the pot of nectar, and secured the release of his mother. Before Kadru or any serpent could take a sip of the divine drink, Garuda helped Indra steal the nectar back. Because his mother had been enslaved by the mother of serpents, Garuda became the eternal enemy of serpents and made them his natural food.
Mahabharata
Parvati creates Ganapati not only to satisfy her maternal instincts but also because only a son, she believes, will obey her without question. She orders Ganapati to keep out all those who encroach on her space. Ganapati obeys to the point of preventing even her consort from entering her cave at the risk of certain death. Ganapati is therefore considered the lord of thresholds, to be invoked before the start of any activity or journey. At one time he was feared, because he could put obstacles in the path of those who did not appease him. Nowadays he is adored as a god who helps his devotees attain their goals. Ganapati sits on the threshold of all knowledge and wealth. Whoever seeks to explore the mysteries of his mother needs to seek his permission. In southern India, where Ganapati is considered celibate, it is said that he refused to marry because he found no woman as beautiful as his mother.
Besides her son, the autonomous warrior-goddess has other male doorkeepers who do not look upon her sexually. These include the celibate Hanuman—the monkey-god known in northern India as langoor-devata—and the childlike Bhairava. Interestingly, both are considered manifestations of Shiva and protect the goddess from those who seek to violate her. Hanuman helped release Sita from the clutches of Ravana. Bhairava beheaded Brahma, who had cast his lustful eyes on the goddess:
When Brahma created the primal mother, he pursued her relentlessly to satisfy his lust. Shiva transformed into Bhairava, wrenched off Brahma’s fifth head, and stopped the pursuit. But the head seared into Bhairava’s flesh and drove him mad. He sought refuge with the goddess, whose maternal grace cured him. He became her eternal protector.
Bhavishya Purana
Bhairava is always portrayed as a child holding a scimitar in one hand and a human head said to be that of Brahma in the other hand. As the wild minion of the goddess, he joins her in battle when she takes the form of Korravai, or he transforms into the goblin of fever Juara when she takes the form of Jari-Mari. He is also seen in the company of Matrika mothers.
Autonomous warrior-goddesses are also attended by groups of women, who, like them, are not associated with men. These women are known as yoginis (who are virginal), matrikas (who are maternal), and dakinis (who are withered crones). These women are unrestrained, wild, sexual, and violent. They are feared, not adored.
By preventing Parvati from becoming a mother in the conventional way, the gods ensure that her raw power seethes within her, ready to manifest itself for the benefit of the world:
The gods could not kill Raktabija. Every drop of his blood gave rise to another Raktabija until the entire battlefield would swarm with Raktabija clones. So they invoked Shiva’s consort, and she appeared on the battlefield as Kali, the dark one. She rolled out her tongue and covered the battlefield, licking every drop of Raktabija’s blood before it touched the ground. Thus no new Raktabija duplicates were created, and the gods were able to kill the dreaded demon.
Devi Bhagvatam, Vamana Purana
Only the wild goddess can achieve the impossible and defeat apparently invincible demons:
The gods could not defeat the demons, because their guru Shukra kept reviving the fallen warriors with the power of mantra. They sought the help of Shiva, but Shiva refused to kill a man who belonged to the caste of priests. Instead, out of his third eye came a ferocious goddess with flowing hair, a great belly, pendulous breasts, thighs like plantain tree trunks, and a mouth like a great cavern. There were teeth and eyes in her womb. The goddess ran after Shukra, grabbed him, stripped him of his clothes, embraced him, and finally locked him in her womb. With Shukra trapped, the gods were able to kill the demons with ease and win the celestial battle.
Kalika Purana
In her wild, autonomous state, the sexual and violent urges of the goddess are unbridled:
The demon Ruru with this army attacked the gods, who sought refuge with Devi. Devi laughed, and from her mouth emerged an army of goddesses, who wiped out the demon army. After the battle, the goddesses were hungry and demanded food. “Let us eat Shiva, who smells like a goat,” said the goddesses. Shiva suggested that they eat all that pregnant women have defiled with their touch, fetuses, newborns, and women who cry all the time. The goddesses refused to eat such food. So Shiva finally offered them his testicles. This satisfied the goddesses, who saluted Shiva.
Padma Purana, Linga Purana,
Matsya Purana
While the destructive power of Kali is necessary to destroy demons, once the deed is done, her power needs to be restrained and transformed into creative power. Domestication of her divine energies is vital, because they have the capacity to overrun civilization. This is achieved through marriage:
Drunk in blood, Kali loses all good sense, running amok and destroying everything in her path. To stop her, Shiva lay in her path with penis erect. When Kali stepped on Shiva’s body, his handsome face aroused desire in her body. She remembered that she was Parvati, and the body she had kicked was that of her husband. Embarrassed, she bit her tongue. She made love to Shiva’s corpse and revived her husband. She then sat beside him as a demure consort.
The fierce and untamed Kali stepping on her consort, Shiva, as she sets about destroying the world. Patta painting, folk style from Orissa. Twentieth century.
Maternity also domesticates the goddess:
Shiva took the form of an infant and began to cry. The cry of the baby evoked maternal desires in Kali’s heart. She picked up the child and began nursing him. Gradually, her rage dissipated. She regained control of her mind and, in the form of Parvati, rejoined Shiva atop Mount Kailas.
Folklore from the states
of Bengal and Tamil Nandu
The taming power of matrimony is a recurrent theme in sacred Hindu lore:
Meenakshi, princess of Madurai, was born with three breasts and a very masculine temperament. As soon as she ascended the throne after her father’s death, she set out with her armies to conquer the world. All the kings who opposed her ambitions were either defeated or killed. Finally, she reached Mount Kailas. The resident ascetic refused to accept her suzerainty. Furious, she challenged him to a duel. But no sooner did she cast her eyes on him than she fell in love. Instantly her extra breast disappeared and she became a demure maiden who accepted the ascetic as her consort. Her brother Vishnu, lord of civilization, gave her away in marriage.
Madurai Sthala Purana
Meenakshi’s third breast represents her independent spirit, which goes away when she falls in love. Sometimes the goddess needs to be shamed into submission:
To subjugate Kali, Shiva challenged her to a dance competition. The goddess danced as well as the god, matching him step for step. But then Shiva raised his foot to take the pose known as urdva nataraja. Overwhelmed by modesty, Kali refused to raise her foot and expose her genitals. Thus was her arrogance curbed and her humility aroused. She bent her head and shyly sat on Shiva’s left thigh.
Temple legend from the state of Tamil Nadu
The male head recoils in horror at the stark nakedness of Kali. Offerings of chunari and choli, “veils” and “blouses,” are made to cover the nakedness of the goddess and to domesticate her. The goddess, in turn, demands male heads in sacrifice.
Kali, the wild and fierce goddess of the forest, was once the patron of thieves and marauders, tribes that lived outside the pale of civilization and earned their living by breaking the law and through plunder. They justified their killing as a ritual to satisfy her divine bloodlust:
A caravan traveling through the forest was ambushed by forest tribes. They stole the goods, raped the women, dragged young men to the altar of the goddess Kali, and beheaded them. When they left, one woman who had hidden herself under an overturned cart discovered the decapitated body of her husband. She lamented her fate. Holding his head in her hands, she sat before the image of the goddess and refused to move or eat until the goddess had restored her husband to life. After seven nights, pleased with the widow’s devotion and determination, the goddess appeared. She brought her husband back to life and blessed the couple.
Three forms of the mother-goddess, embodying her totality: Kali (left) seated on corpses and feeding on human entrails; Lakshmi (center) holding a lotus as she brings forth the beauty and bounty of Nature; Durga (right) bearing weapons as she protects all life. Idols from Kailasnatha temple; Ellora, Maharasthra. Seventh century.
Folklore from the state of Punjab
In Hindu rituals uncooked fruits and nuts are offered to please Shiva. Sweet food cooked in clarified butter is offered to Vishnu. Only the goddess is offered blood sacrifice. The beheading of male animals—buffaloes, goats, and cocks—pleases her. Killing a female animal arouses her wrath. At one time humans were sacrificed, too. Temple lore is full of tales of devotees who beheaded themselves to please the goddess. Nowadays blood sacrifice is frowned upon. Coconuts are broken or lemons and pumpkins cut instead. Some see the cutting of pumpkins and lemons as symbolic of castration. Others see the cracking of the coconut as the destruction of the male ego that is responsible for establishing patriarchal society. The severed head in the hand of a mother-goddess is a stark reminder that the bestower of life is also the bestower of mortality.
Those who live in villages prefer worshipping the domesticated form of the village goddess—the Gramadevi—who is perceived as the local manifestation of the cosmic mother-goddess. Every village in India has its very own Gramadevi. The village is usually named after her. The goddess of Mumbai is Mumba-devi; the goddess of Calcutta is Kali; the goddess of Chandigarh is Chandi. The goddess is represented by her head and two arms raised to bless the village. The villagers live on domesticated earth, which is the body of the goddess. Their homes, fields, and pastures are thus tamed aspects of the earth-goddess.
Women who die at childbirth, who are rejected by their husbands or society, or who die without experiencing conjugal or maternal bliss are identified with the Gramadevi. Kannagi, Renuka, Bahuchera, Manasi, Mari, and Dayamava are all manifestations of Gramadevi, the primal goddess who was forced into domestication by male gods:
Ammavaru created Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma of her own body and desired to have sex with them. Vishnu and Brahma refused. Shiva agreed if she gave him her third eye. In her passion, Ammavaru gave away her third eye, the source of her primordial power. She became weak, and Shiva conquered her. From her body emerged all the village goddesses.
Folklore from southern India
Every year, during the annual village festival that is usually celebrated after harvest, the goddess goes through a period of ritual “widowhood.” This period is marked not with mourning, but with sexual and violent ceremonies. Men from the lower castes use crude language to describe the genitals of the goddess and her insatiable sexual appetite. Male animals—goats, cocks, buffaloes—are slaughtered, their blood mixed with rice and sprinkled on the fields. Men of the village walk on fire and indulge in rituals of self-mutilation such as hook swinging. Women go through hysterical fits, shaking convulsively. Those around declare that the goddess has entered the body of these women. Promises are made to please the goddess, and her advice is sought on various problems.
The “widowhood” releases the goddess from male control. She shrugs off her domesticated mantle and returns to her primal, wild, forest state in which her sexual desire is unbridled. The hysterical fits of the village woman are physical manifestations of mental repression. Crude comments on the sexuality of the goddess arouse her. Blood sacrifices are made to satisfy her roused libido. The rituals of sex and violence restore the fertility of the goddess, which can then be utilized by the village in the year after the goddess has been redomesticated through the ritual of remarriage.
The following story of the southern Indian goddess Virapanchali, the divine aspect of the Pandava queen Draupadi, captures the idea that consumption of blood satisfies the sexual urge of the goddess and that maternity domesticates her:
During their exile in the forest, the Pandava Bhima complained to Krishna that he could not satisfy his wife sexually and felt inadequate as a result. Krishna revealed to Bhima that the Pandavas’ wife was the primal mother-goddess Adya-Maya-Shakti. One night the Pandavas discovered that Draupadi was not in her bed. They searched the forest and discovered her running wild and naked in the forest, eating goats, buffaloes, and other wild animals. When she saw her husbands spying on her, she ran toward them, intending to catch and eat them, too. The Pandavas ran for cover and sought refuge in their hut. They shut the door and refused to let Draupadi in until she promised not to harm them. She agreed and Bhima opened the door. Draupadi gripped his hand so hard that her five fingernails pierced his skin and five drops of blood fell on the ground. These turned into children and, hearing them cry, Draupadi’s fury abated; she became maternal and loving again.
Telegu and Tamil folk versions
of the epic Mahabharata
Blood, like semen, is considered creative essence. In Ayurveda, semen is viewed as transformed blood. Thus, offerings of male blood are, in effect, offerings of semen.
Ceremonies aimed at pleasing the goddess through blood sacrifices are also conducted whenever the village is struck with disease or drought, which is seen as the manifestations of divine wrath and female frustration.
The ritual torture of male members of the village is a symbolic apology for cruelties meted out in the name of social order. After all, it is in the name of social order that women are forced into unhappy marriages or rejected on grounds of adultery and disobedience.
One of the most stunning representations of the goddess is that of Chinnasmastika. There are no sacred narratives associated with this goddess, who is often depicted standing headless upon a couple making love. She holds a sword in one hand and her head in other. Three streams of blood spurt out of her neck, two into the mouths of attending yoginis and one into her own mouth. The image shows sex and violence, life and death as aspects of the interdependent system that is Nature. The image jolts the viewer into accepting that the mother-goddess is also the killer-goddess. The two make up the whole.
Chinnamastika is not worshipped by orthodox Hindus who follow the Vedantic tradition, where the world is seen as maya, or delusion, and the aspirant seeks a transcendent truth. They prefer to view the goddess as a demure and domesticated consort. In the Tantrik tradition, however, the world is seen as shakti, or the source of power, and the goddess is invoked in her totality. The aspirant is asked not to bridle his senses. Instead he is sensually aroused and intimidated by both alluring and repulsive manifestations of the goddess. He is forced to confront and come to terms with the beauty and ugliness of the world within and the world without. Ultimately, it is hoped, he realizes that beauty and ugliness, sacrality and profanity, creation and destruction, are merely points of view. The realization enlightens and empowers.
Another image of the goddess that captures her entirety is that of Bhagavati, a manifestation of the goddess worshipped mainly in the southern state of Kerala. The goddess is depicted as a full-breasted, broad-hipped damsel with shapely eyes who bears many weapons in her many arms and has fangs for teeth. This image of the goddess attracts and repels. Suddenly one realizes that Nature is not just the voluptuous body; it is also the putrefying flesh. Nature is both the parrot and the maggot, the cow and the scorpion. One enjoys spring blossoms but refuses to believe that the fragrance, color, and nectar are nothing but sex tools that ensure pollination by birds and bees. One prefers to see Nature as the nymph who enchants and as the mother who loves. One adores her broad hips and suckles her full breasts but shrinks from claws, fanglike teeth, and her lolling, blood-soaked tongue. One can see the weapons in her hand but prefers to believe she decapitates only demons and bad people.
Naked with hair unbound, Chinnamastika severs her head and drinks her own blood as she makes love to her consort, Bhairava—thus uniting the principles of impersonal violence and sex that rotate the cycle of life. Kangra painting. Eighteenth century.
But there are no “bad” people in the Hindu universe. There is no Satan in Hindu lore. The demons, like the gods, are the sons of Prajapati. The “gods” are known as adityas after their mother Aditi, while the “demons” are known as daityas after their mother Diti. Aditi means “fetterless one,” suggesting that the adityas are unfettered, free, unbound to the laws of space and time. The daityas, then, are the “fettered ones,” trapped in space and time, and hence in constant battle with their favored half-brothers. The word deva applied to the adityas is translated as “god,” which is more often than not just a convenient translation; it actually means “keeper of light.” Another word for “demons” is asuras—“those who were denied the elixir of immortality.” The asuras are merely anti-devas, opposing everything the “gods” do. The gods ensure the flow of rasa. The demons block it. The demons represent darkness, disorder, desire, bondage, and barrenness. They display behavior attributed to “evil” beings in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. But Hinduism does not acknowledge “evil” in the Judeo-Christian-Islamic sense of the term. Negative events are attributed to negative karma. There is no need for the Devil. There is no clear demarcation between right and wrong in Hindu lore, just as there is no well-defined beginning or end. The Hindu universe remains a mystery and cannot be forced into a duality.
In sacred lore the demons who are killed by the mother-goddess are often ambitious, deva-hating celestial beings who seek to subvert natural law and avert death, becoming as immortal as the devas. They win boons from their father, Brahma, for this purpose:
The demon Daruka could be killed neither by man nor by gods, neither by birds nor by beasts, neither by plants nor by rocks. He did not seek protection from women, because he did not consider women a threat. Realizing this, the gods called upon the mother-goddess. Riding onto the battlefield on a lion, bearing in her many arms a trident, a lance, a sword, a bow, and many arrows, the goddess challenged Daruka to a fight. She frightened him with her red eyes and dark skin. He saw her ride a mad elephant, holding aloft the impaled bodies of her victims. Terrified, Daruka ran. The goddess stopped him. Taking the form of Bhagavati, she thrust her trident into his heart. She cut off his head, drank his blood, decorated herself with his entrails, and danced on his corpse. The gods cheered her victory.
Folklore from the state of Kerala
Nature triumphs ultimately. The triumph is impersonal, nonjudgmental. Nature kills everybody, not just the “bad.” To call the goddess “Mother” is to acknowledge only one half of her personality. She is also a “killer.” She is the source of joy and sorrow, of hope and despair, life and death. Nature (prakriti), delusion (maya), energy (shakti)—she is the world we react to.
