Ever in ecstasy, in merry romance,
She Who enchants the Apocalypse
Humming her songs and swift Her dance;
Her wine, amused, giggling She sips.
Kamalakanta Bhattacharya, circa 1800
মহাকালের মনমোহিনী সদানন্দময়ী কালী।
আপনি নাচ আপনি গাও মা আপনি দাও মা করতালি॥
কমলাকান্ত ভট্টাচার্য, ১৮০০ খ্রীষ্টাব্দ
based on Kālidāsa’s Madanabhasma
an alternate version is halfway through inking
The Goddess Incarnate as the daughter of mathematician Kātyāyana; a connection thereof with a story that goes with 18th century lyricist Ramaprasad Sen’s encounter with the Goddess disguised as his daughter as a helping hand in tying up a lawn fence.
The temple is Tulja Bhavani Śakti Pīṭha, ripping it off its post-Moghul Maratha architecture: how such a temple might have been in a pre-classical era which the Purāṇa refers to.
কহ’ দেখি ভোলানাথ—
সমুদ্র-মন্থন-কালে বিষপান করেছিলে যখন;
ডেকেছিলে ‘দুর্গা’ ব’লে— ‘রক্ষা করো!’
সেইদিন ভুলে কি বলেছিলে তারে ‘জননী’?
Tell me, Śiva,
When you drank up the poison churned out of the cosmic ocean,
You cried, 'Durgā! Save me!'
Did you, by mistake, see the Mother in Her that day?
Lyrics by Hensman Anthony, Portugese poet who was born and brought up in Bengal, and wrote in Bengali. Hindu mythology describes the divine enterprise of churning the cosmic ocean, quite similar to the efforts of humankind in understanding and enslaving science for the treasures withheld by Nature from us. As the Forbidden Fruit often results in more harm than good, after a point the churning produced a deadly poison called 'Halāhala'. Śiva, like the rebels and messiahs in all eras who bear the crosses of human sins, drank up the poison to save Creation. And His Consort, Durgā or Tārā, in her capacity of the Supreme Goddess and with Motherly affection, soothed the reaction of the poison in Him.
Durgā and Tārā both mean the same: the Goddess Who saves (performs trāṇa on) someone in trouble (durgati).
[May 25h, 2025]