Devi is our Wonderwoman

How many pujas to Lakshmi took place, do you suppose, in the run-up to the Maharashtra elections and how many ‘‘mannats’’ are being worked out now during the Navratras? Delhi certainly looks most festive with tilaks blooming on every other forehead and fresh ‘‘molis’’ (protective red threads) tied firmly on brawny wrists. The air and light have softened and our leafy avenues seem more alluring than ever. In this lovely atmosphere, it’s easy to imagine Divinity descending in our frazzled midst — and who lovelier than Mahalakshmi, without whose grace our lives simply cannot run?

In this season of the sacred feminine, the aspects of Devi that visually predominate are Durga as Mahishasuramardini and Saraswati. Tucked between them is the graceful and radiant form of Devi Lakshmi, richly clad in lotus pink and gold. How did our ancestral imagination conceive of these images of power and abundance? The Srimad Bhagvatam or Bhagvata Purana, which is revered by the devout as Lord Krishna’s “biography” says that when the Ocean of Milk was churned, “arose the beautiful Goddess Lakshmi in all her splendour. Seated on a lotus, wearing silken robes and glittering jewels, she was the embodiment of beauty. The deity of the Ocean himself rose from his abode, gave the Goddess the floral swayamvara garland and asked her to select the noblest one present as her bridegroom. Realising that Lord Vishnu was perfection, she garlanded Him…”

This love-at-first-sight tale obviously bears endless retelling (like now) because it’s so romantic, a fantasy from hoary yore before the Americans invented Superman, Batman, Spiderman and Catwoman, who, like Devi, fight the bad guys with extra-terrestrial powers and bestow peace through their protection. What’s interesting, though, is that it took ages to invent a Catwoman out west (derived from the sacred feminine of ancient Egypt), whereas our ancients, despite their other faults, did give the sacred feminine its due in myth at least: the longest Hindu festival, in fact.

What could it all mean today, when so much confusion prevails about what to keep and what to throw of the old ways? Most modern lives are not in sync with complicated rituals. But people do want to stay “connected”. So they’ll wear a tilak, get a moli tied, kowtow to Devi’s idol, mutter a prayer and rush off to work. And they’d certainly nibble at our delicious Navratra ‘‘fast food’’, even if they can’t or don’t fast. But let’s remember that in Kalyug there is no compulsion to do yagna or elaborate puja. ‘‘Naamkirtan’’ or taking the Name of God is said to be the best route to salvation for our epoch. In which case, telling and hearing a divine story sincerely would be punya, too, wouldn’t it?