It was getting darker. As the temple doors closed, the lone lamp brightened itself. The camphor in the air found its way to the breeze outside. Time for the goddess to take a short nap.

She closed her eyes. A long weary day. One of her forms had stayed in this temple since the 12th century. She was sculpted in the form of Kaali - deep eyes, flowing hair, adorned with skulls, holding various weapons in eight hands, a blue lotus in one hand and a shining conch in the other.

Maa, Devi, Durga - she would hear them calling by these names. Many a times they would call her with tears, sometimes a deep wailing sound would echo the walls. Sometimes there would be giggles and tinkering anklets. Once in a while there would be drums, many more flowers and colours.

Manifestations of joy, celebration, suffering, pain, fear, distress, agony. For them, she would be part of it all, for her they would be part of her Maya.

The offerings from the day were spread around. Most of it taken back by mortals, her own creation. 

She looked at the shadows around the lamp and called out - "Chaitanya".
The name she gave to the temple mouse. For he was the connection between her, the Shakti and the Consciousness that existed outside the walls.  

The shadow on one side of the lamp became deeper. It was Chaitanya. A long tail, longer whiskers, tummy almost touching the earth. The lamp reflecting in his tiny eyes. The moment he appeared, a laddu started rolling. She couldn’t stop laughing. 

"Do you have the answer today?"

"Maa, I am still searching for it."

She wondered what had changed beyond the walls of the temple.


ⓒ Rajesh Srivastava