The Song of a Yogini

"Passionate, with longing in mine eyes, searching wide, and seeking night and days, Lo! I beheld the truthful one, the wise Here in my own house to fill my gaze". "That was the day of my lucky star. Breathless I held my guide to be. So my lamp of knowledge blazed afar, fanned by slow breath from the throat of me. Then, my bright soul to myself revealed, winnowed I abroad my inner light, and with darkness all around me sealed Did I garner truth and held him tight".

"Think not on the things that are without, Fix upon thy inner self thy thought; So shallthou be freed from let or doubt. Precept these that my preceptor taught".
"Dance then Lalla, clothed by the air; Sing then Lalla, clad but by the sky. Air and sky; what garmant is more fair? 'Cloth', saith custom; ' doth that sanctify?'".

Let Darkness Prevail

I prided myself and called myself a “Warrior of LIGHT”…least realising how deep the Darkness was inside of me.
Without acknowledging my own reality, I went on brandishing a flaming sword and proclaiming myself a saviour to all.
Uncannily, I was scared but to look into the mirror…how ugly I looked…what abyss lurked behind my eyes and what a savage scavenger I was.
It was only last night that I saw the moon (all this while…I dreaded to look up)…there was something strange there. Suddenly I went onto my fours and from deep within there arose a blood-curdling cry……………….a moan!
For the first time, I was happy, happy to be set free. The fangs had tasted blood!

I devour bit by bit my restless soul and wait till the mocking light slowly dies in the prevailing darkness.

Kali - About herself

Hear me child, and know Me for who I am.
I have been with you since you were born, and I will stay with you until you return to Me at the final dusk.
I am the passionate and seductive lover who inspires the poet to dream.
I am the One who calls to you at the end of your journey. After the day is done, My children find their blessed rest in my embrace.

I am the womb from which all things are born.
I am the shadowy, still tomb; all things must come to Me and bare their breasts to die and be reborn to the Whole.
I am the Sorceress that will not be ruled, the Weaver of Time, the Teacher of Mysteries. I snip the threads that bring my children home to me. I slit the throats of the cruel and drink the blood of the heartless.

Swallow your fear and come to me, and you will discover true beauty, strength, and courage.
I am the fury which rips the flesh from injustice.
I am the glowing forge that transforms your inner demons into tools of power. Open yourself to my embrace and overcome.

I am the glinting sword that protects you from harm.
I am the crucible in which all the aspects of yourself merge together in a rainbow of union.
I am the velvet depths of the night sky, the swirling mists of midnight, shrouded in mystery.
I am the chrysalis in which you will face that which terrifies you and from which you will blossom forth, vibrant and renewed. Seek me at the crossroads, and you shall be transformed, for once you look upon my face, there is no return.

I am the fire that kisses the shackles away. I am the cauldron in which all opposites grow to know each other in Truth. I am the web which connects all things.
I am the Healer of all wounds, the Warrior who rights all wrongs in their Time.
I make the weak strong. I make the arrogant humble. I raise up the oppressed and empower the disenfranchised. I am Justice tempered with Mercy.

Most importantly, child, I am you. I am part of you, and I am within you. Seek me within and without, and you will be strong. Know me. Venture into the dark so that you may awaken to Balance, Illumination, and Wholeness. Take my Love with you everywhere and find the Power within to be who you wish.

Aghor Sadan

Amidst the din of the extremely busy streets of Benares, my eyes traveled from atop the “cycle rickshaw” in which I was sitting with a friend, towards this magnificent gate that sent a chill down my spine. On both sides of the gate stood grinning at me a set of three human skulls sitting one atop the other. I squeezed my friend’s arm and pointed silently out to him that which we were planning to visit and that which we had heard myriad stories about and that which was “should be avoided” as per mom and others who were original residents of this city and have now migrated to Mumbai. There was a familiar twinkle in his eyes…which meant that he was ready for the adventure. I smiled back at him – SO WAS I!
We decided that next day should be the fateful evening. With heart thumping against my rib-cage, I and my friend disembarked from the cycle rickshaw (the cheapest and the popular mode of transport in the holy city) in front of the gate. There was a chill in the evening air and I dismissed that to be the December chill. A place to remove the shoes guarded by this very simple looking man (what was I expecting?) beckoned us to do the needful. A non-descript flower stall stood stoically almost rebelliously against the backdrop of the myriad and competitive flower markets next to the more important places of worship (which are too many in Benares). “Err…what are we to worship inside?” I asked my friend. He gestured to keep my mouth shut and follow what an old couple was doing. They too bought some flowers and very demurely walked towards the gate. Beautiful strings of “bhajan” was emanating from within the walls of the “Keenaram Ashram”…something which would seem out of place about a structure that had been so embroiled in myths and controversies (after all this was a place of the “aghorees” and do “aghorees” listen to “bhajans”?)
Within the precincts of the “house of aghorees” we walked through a beautiful garden (the lilting musical bhajan still following us all the time). Strewn around the some what serpentine walk were boards written in simple hindi and English. These were aphorisms of Aghora wisdom. We stopped to read a few. They were nothing deeply occult (yes…we were expecting that!!)…nor rebellious. These were simple thoughts…deep in philosophy…uplifting human values. Thoughts that do not disturb you…but calm you…full of warmth. We strode around wanting to know what more was in store for us that was silently breaking all our myths.
A silent quadrangle greeted us. Spick and span with some very few people circumambulating the place. A signboard advised us to keep calm for this was the place of meditation and internalization. We were already feeling calm within and did not feel like talking (was this the effect of the place?). In a slightly elevated sheltered place was the shrine. An huge life sized idol of “Bhagwan Ram”, the erstwhile head of the ashram graced the middle. In front of the statue were his “padukas” (slippers) where we offered the flowers like the old couple before us did. The entire atmosphere was silent and full of grace and our heads bent automatically in silent surrender and a prayer emanated from our hearts. A non-descript man sat by the side in simple garbs (we were expecting jatas and fiery eyes) of a shawl and civilian clothes…clean shaved! But when his hands went up to proffer us the simple “Prasad” of ashes from an “akhanda dhuni” we did not miss the “veer kangan” that he was wearing – he was an “aghoree”. The man was quite and just nodded at times to familiar faces…not talking much…not talking at all.
After taking the “prasada” from the “aghoree” (we were sure that he was one) we went across to the “akhanda dhuni”. Some two three people were sitting across the caged pyre. A signboard had advised us a little earlier not to offer anything to the fire. It was a fire that was lit four centuries ago from the fire of a funeral pyre of “harishchandra ghat” (one of the two most famous “smashanas” of Benares) and has been protected and nurtured since then. For four centuries the fire still burns a silent testimony to remain alive for centuries to come. After a small prayer we strayed across to explore the surroundings. To the south of the quadrangle on a slightly elevated platform rested 11 “shivalingas” in the form of an interesting pattern…later on we found out that it was the “yantra” (mystical symbolical representation) of the Devi Hinglaj (a shakti peetha in Balochistan, Pakistan). Folklore says that the great Aghori Keenaram brought the devi from now Pakistan and established “her” within the Ashram premises. Next to “her” lies the mortal remains of the 16th century aghoree and the founder of the “aghorashram” and the 11 “Shivalingas” are actually the 11 “samadhis” of the eleven erstwhile heads of the organization. All around the remains are established the four faces of Shiva, indicating the “abheda” (non discrimination). Over and above these lies the fifth “face of Shiva” in the form of a lingam symbolizing the fusion of “Shiva and Shakti”…the face of aghora. A scriptural reference can be found out that the four Vedas are abrogated to the 4 faces of Shiva and the fifth face is the face of “aghora”. A “peepul” tree stood peacefully by the side and underneath it stood the great face of that which lurks behind our masks…the great SKULL. We learnt later that the skull represents the cosmos and called the “brahmanda khappar”. The bare row of teeth and the dark orbs actually encompasses what goes on in our mind. Could it be the “brahmanda khappar” is actually the entire creation encapsulated? And it is actually what must be going on in God’s mind?? I had no clue how to get that answer. But the dimming evening lights brought a soothing calm…no clashing thoughts…no chasing dreams…no discrimination…almost like the state of “aghor”