One of the most interesting goddesses that I’ve stumbled across in recent years is Vajrayogini, as she is known in the Buddhist tradition, or Chinnamasta, in the Hindu Pantheon, one of the ten Mahavidyas, a Tantric Goddess.
The tantric traditions are associated with shock value, and the popular representation of Chinnamasta is no exception to this. She is presented standing on a copulating couple, a weapon clasped in her right hand hand - a weapon she has used to sever her own head, which she holds in her left. From the stump of her neck, three jets of blood issue to feed herself, and two of her devotees.
Panic state
I became interested in Vajrayogini, or Chinnamasta, after a stint in Afghanistan. I came back, after six months, with a mild diagnosis of PTSD, which manifested as hyper-vigilantism: I couldn’t sleep, I would waken at the slightest sound, thinking that an intruder or some threat was present, a condition that lasted for over two years.
After many months of no sleep and panic attacks it felt like I was losing my mind; and it was at this point in time that I came across the Buddhist avatar of Chinnamasta – Vajrayogini - a goddess who is worshipped for healing trauma and pain. I learnt that in the tantric tradition, Chinnamasta is also a Goddess associated with the rising of the Kundalini shakti. Her feet - planted on Kama and Rati engaged in the act of sex - suggest the fact that it is the channeling of kundalini, or sexual energy, that can lead to liberation, and the nourishing blood that issues from her severed neck represents this shakti, or energy.
I began to meditate on her image, hoping for some deliverance. As I delved deeper into the symbolism of her image, it became apparent that the symbolism behind this was the same metaphor at work that presents Ganesha with an elephant’s head - the head, symbolically, being associated with ego and ignorance which creates the obstacles that limit us or block our paths. But it goes even further than this - for there are echoes of the idea of the uroborous, the snake that swallows it’s own tail, or the Kirtimukha, the image that depicts the perpetually ravenous demon who consumed his own body out of hunger.
Like the uroborous and the Kirtimukha, Chinnamasta feeds herself, she is nourished by her own blood. Moreover, not only does her destruction feed and sustain herself, but it also creates - for Chinnamasta nourishes her devotees through her act of sacrifice.
Fascinating concepts
Her image also connects destruction with creation; destruction is essential to spur a creative act. This realisation prompted me to channel my own experience into a new creative work. Chinnamasta also introduced me to the fascinating concepts of tantric traditions and yoga - of consciousness and psychology - that offered me a different means for understanding my own self, my subconscious fears, and facing them.
Tantric traditions, because of their ‘shock’ value - tend to be the part of our culture and heritage that we are uncomfortable with, but many of these traditions - as one scholar told me - are purely meditative and their end goal is liberation and empowerment. In the process of dismissing these traditions, we also reject the wealth of knowledge and understanding that they can offer us about ourselves, as well as the psychological methods to heal, come to terms with our own pain – and turn this into something creative.
The writer is the author of ‘The Mahabharatha — A Child’s View,’ ‘Sita’s Ramayana’ and ‘The Missing Queen’
