Shakti had not been able to sleep. Besides the excruciating pain in her stomach, the mosquitoes kept her awake the whole night. Sitting in her small hut she could see the flag of the temple fluttering behind the silhouette of the huge mango tree which almost looked like a monster at this wee hour. Shakti was down with her monthly cycle. Mai and Baba had kept her name Shakti which meant power but as for now, she felt that she was the weakest person in the world. She hated it when she saw the blood coming for the first time. It was hard to believe for her when she was introduced to this chapter of being a female. The days she was bleeding made her feel miserable. To add to her woe there was a scarcity of water.
Mai had been very kind to her. Even in all the hullabaloo of water scarcity, she had secretly given her a pot of water for her personal use. "This is all the water I have managed to get for you. Don't waste a single drop." Mai said firmly, keeping the pot carefully on the floor with her fragile hands.
Baba had been telling her about the drought that had occurred once when he was of her age. She would hear the stories about the struggle for survival with such delight not realising that one day she too would have to live through it. Lack of water had impacted his agricultural land. The local river that meandered through the village had dried up. The only supply of water was from the ancient well on the premises of the temple where only the purohit was allowed to fetch the water. Its water level too was sinking fast.
Before the drought when her periods happened Mai would bring her hot food with herbs that would soothe her aches and pains. But now there was a paucity of any kind of edible in the entire village. Her family granary store was gradually getting deplenished. Mai had become very frugal with whatever little she had to serve her family. Many a time Shakti noticed that Mai remained hungry and gave her part of the food to the children or anyone who would pass by. Be it the cow who was slowly emaciating or the village dog who would show up once in a while taking rounds of different villages.
Sitting alone in the small hut she had nothing much to do. Earlier she would pass her time tending to her small garden. Her father had planted many floral plants that would give out beautiful aromas. Shakti's favourite was a small shrub with tiny leaves. She would pluck its tender leaves and make a paste out of it. She loved the subtle aroma that came from the leaves when made into a paste. She would then apply it in her hands with different designs and keep her hands stretched for many hours so that the designs would not get smudged. When the paste would dry she would scrap it off and be so amused to see the dark red colour embedded in her palms. She loved this whole process so much. It was her favourite thing to do. Sitting near the door she looked over towards the henna plant. The green bush had dried up and its leaves had all gone. Only the stems remained on the ground that had become hard as plaster. If only she could water the plants!
Lost in her thoughts she dozed off to sleep. However, her growling stomach kept her half awake. A faint voice of the purohit was coming from the temple.
Yaa Devi Sarva-Bhutessu Shakti-Ruupenna Samsthitaa | Namas-Tasyai Namas-Tasyai Namas-Tasyai Namo Namah ||
She listened to the chants half asleep. She loved this chant, for it had her name in it. The purohit was probably the first one to get up in the entire village. He never failed to offer his obeisance early in the morning, Amrit Bela, her mother would say.
"Gods and Goddesses come to earth at this hour. Your wishes are granted if you pray with reverence during the Amrit Bela."
The purohit's voice had become feeble over the days. The entire village was suffering. Many people died and many suffered due to the drought. Lack of food and no water made things very difficult for everyone. The generous king had offered the villagers employment in another town. It had a huge water tank. He was offering them work and food by getting a temple constructed. Many people from her village had moved out with bags and baggage on their bullock carts. But Shakti's family had decided to stay back.
Stretching her hands upwards she looked at the sky, hoping to see some clouds. The sky looked crystal clear with the morning star shining bright like a diamond. Pulling up her aching body she stood up. It was dark but she wanted to move around. Mother had told her not to go anywhere at night. Dawn was about to crack and she thought of going to the fields for ablution. Silently she tiptoed towards the main door without disturbing anyone. There was absolute silence outside which was only broken by the noise of crickets stridulating. The ground had cooled down over the night, else it was impossible to walk barefoot in the scorching heat.
There was a grove of bamboo where she would go every morning. Carrying some water in a lota and some pieces of clothing she headed toward the grove. She had not changed the entire day yesterday, just to save water. It was becoming difficult for her to manage her wet pads made with old clothes. She would tell Mai about her emergency of leaving in the dark. Once out of the hut she started walking briskly. Tiny pebbles and twigs pricked her feet, but she was used to walking on them. The dried bamboo leaves crushed under her feet making little noise. Shakti looked for a corner where no one would be able to see her and set out to quickly do her job.
While going back home, she walked slowly enjoying the cool temperature of the night. But for some unknown reason, she had a strange feeling that someone was looking at her from behind when she was changing. Was it the churail, the one who would dance under the peepal tree on the moonless night of Amavasya? Mai had told her never to go there.
Cold beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.
Is the churail thirsty? Does she want the water I am carrying? Thinking of this, Shakti hugged her lota tightly. So frugal she had been with spending water that she had managed to save some for herself. Mai was very strict about not wasting a single drop. Shakti slowed down her pace.
She looked through the corner of her eyes turning her neck in the direction she was coming from. A soft glow of light was coming from the grove.
Wow! What can that glow be of? Must be the fireflies! The thought of so many fireflies blinking together excited her. She thought of going there and playing with them for some time. Maybe she would catch one or two in her hands and bring them home to show to her younger brother.
She turned back and walked very gently towards the light. It was definitely not the village churail, Shakti was confirmed. Mai had told her that the churail was scared of light. It was said that when she encountered many mashaals were lighted. A single ray of light would make her go blind and she would vanish into thin air whenever she saw light.
This thought filled her with courage and she moved forward bravely to see what was the source of the light. She was confirmed in her heart that there were thousands of fireflies buzzing there.
She walked very gently so that the little beetles did not get disturbed by her footsteps. When she reached the spot, she stood behind the dried bushes. What she saw now made her eyes pop out! Her breath got stuck in her throat and her hair rose, giving her goosebumps. It was neither the fireflies nor the churail there but something even worse.
A giant lion sat there. Babbar Sher! It had golden fur and its face had a huge golden beard flowing majestically as it looked around. There was light coming from its body making it shine like pure gold. It was sitting with a grand posture with its tail resting on the ground but its face looked alert. Shakti froze. She thought of quickly running back to her hut and locking the room from inside. She wanted to alert Mai and Baba that Babbar Sher was here in the vicinity.
As she turned in the darkness, she stepped on a twig. It was so fragile that it cracked, breaking the silence.
Kraaaacckkkk!
Shakti just hoped the lion had not heard or sensed her presence. She lifted her head to see the lion's reaction and was petrified to notice that the lion was looking at her.
I am dead now! She said to herself as she felt her heart thumping hard inside her chest.
The lion looked grand and beautiful. But it was a lion and maybe he came here looking for food.
"Probably I am going to be his food today," she muttered as she felt the eyeballs of the lion fixed toward her. She had heard many stories where lions would eat their prey and then go back to the forest to rest till the time the food got digested. She stood visualising herself being chewed in his giant mouth. It was the matter of life and death now. Shakti pulled up all her courage and decided to run with all her energy.
She took a deep breath thinking of the direction she had to take. All this had made her forget what direction was her hut. As she breathed in anxiety she heard a sound of an anklet.
Chamm, chamm... Chamm, chamm!
Is the lion wearing an anklet? She wondered.
Shivering with fear, she waited for the worst thing that could have happened to her. The sound of the anklet became clearer and she could feel it was coming closer to her. Petrified, she squeezed her eyes and clenched her fist tight not wanting to see anything now. She felt something warm surrounding her. The warm feeling was so soft that it made her shiver disappear. With her eyes closed, she was waiting for the lion to either eat her or just go away. She decided not to open her eyes until then.
There was silence for long. Did the lion go? Shakti slowly opened her right eye keeping her left eye closed just to confirm if the lion was still there or not. But what she saw now made her mouth agape. There was the most beautiful lady standing before her, dressed in a green silk saree. She had beautiful large eyes full of love. The tips of her finger were coloured with red alta. She wore a garland of fresh jasmine whose aroma wafted gently in the fetid air. Her hair was open and looked like dark clouds. She wore a huge tika on her forehead and a charming smile on her face.
Mustering courage, Shakti spoke with her dried throat, "Are you the Raja's wife?" Shakti asked with a gleam in her eyes.
"Will you take away all the water from the well?" Shakti asked, looking at her sceptically. She thought probably the water in the king's city had gotten over too and the queen had come hearing about the well in her village.
As she was speaking she noticed that the lion walked towards her and stood right in front of her. Shakti froze like a statue. Gathering courage she asked again.
"Eeeee Is thh..th...th this lion yours? Ppp...plll...Please tell him not to eat me."
The lion moved closer to Shakti and to her surprise it started licking her.
"Oh no! It’s going to eat me now," she was on the verge of weeping. But to her surprise, the lion wagged his tail and lifted his paw in a playful manner. He was behaving like a tamed animal. Something in Shakti told her that it was not going to eat her. She looked at the lion and then she looked at the lady. She radiated with light just like the lion. The luminous lady was standing composed with a soft smile on her face. She had a divine aura around her.
Was it for real or am I dreaming? How can anyone be so beautiful and look so grand? Shakti felt some kind of ecstasy bubbling in her heart like a fountain. She was no longer scared. She stood still for some time, forgetting everything. The pain and the cramps that had been constantly bothering her were no longer there.
The long silence was broken by the luminous lady. "How have you been, Shakti?"
"You know me?"
"Yes, I have known you for ages, but you seem to have forgotten me!" She smiled. There was so much love and compassion in her voice.
"I am not able to go to the temple to pray these days. The cramps in my stomach make me feel so weak!" Shakti complained, lowering her eyes to see the feet of the lady in front of her. It was adorned with alta and looked soft as a petal of a flower.
"Dear child, divinity lies in the heart of the devotee. You are Shakti, your power lies in your mind. Remember a strong mind can carry a weak body, but a weak mind cannot carry a strong body."
Shakti tried to comprehend what the lady was saying. The lady's voice was sounding like music to her ears. While the lady spoke she felt as though her heart was singing some hymns and dancing to the glory of the divine figure standing before her.
"There has been a drought in our village. Many people have suffered. Can we get water in abundance to remove our misery?" Her eyes welled up and her throat got choked saying this. "Sure Shakti, but I am feeling very thirsty. Can I have some water please?"
For a minute Shakti stood still thinking of sharing her water with this strange lady she had come across. What if I give her water and my water gets over. Should I give her my precious water? I am so thirsty myself, she thought, licking her parched lips with her tongue. But then, thinking of her mother who would give food to the needy even in days of crises, she decided to share the tad bit of water she was carrying.
"As for now, I have just this much," reluctantly Shakti offered whatever little water she had. The lady brought the container to her mouth and took a sip. "Thank you so much, dear child. I was thirsty for so many days."
Shakti looked at her in wonder. Was she really thirsty? Her lips reminded her of the red rose that blossomed in her little garden. They didn't look chapped and parched with thirst unlike hers. Shakti was completely floored by her beauty. She was wondering how the lady managed to look so beautiful and clean in this drought which was spreading its evil wings like a pandemic. There was something very special about her. Shakti was lost looking at her when she heard the peal of bells and the noise of conches rising up like a crescendo. She turned back towards the village. The bleak ray of light was slowly filling the eastern sky. The birds were now slowly filling the quiet morning sky with their cacophony. A realisation dawned upon Shakti that Mai must be looking for her in the hut.
Forgetting everything she ran back. She had gone a little too far looking for the lighted grove in the wee hour. She speeded up... but in her hurry, she stumbled upon a small boulder and fell. The container slipped from her hands and fell bouncing on the ground making noise on the mud which had become as hard as stone. The last drop of water trickled out of it. As it fell on the ground, Shakti heard a loud thunderbolt in the sky. Dusting herself she got up. There was a minor scratch on her knees. With a limp, she went forward to pick up the lota.
As she moved with her bruise, she felt something big falling on her head and melting away. "Argh, I hope it is not the bird dropping! I can't bear the smell."
She touched her head and tried to feel what it was that fell on her head. Another fat drop fell on her elbows making her feel cold. Shakti slowed down. Verily she realised, one by one drops were falling from the sky. It started drizzling! Was it true? Or was she dreaming? She smelled the air. It had the divine aura of mud wrapped in it. The drizzle soon turned into a lashing rain. The dry earth seemed to be so thirsty that it gurgled in all the water through the cracks and crevices that had been formed during the drought.
Shakti's joy knew no bounds. She looked up and felt the rainwater falling on her face. She opened her dried mouth to let some water go and soothe her parched throat.
"Maii... Maiiii!" She screamed at the top of her lungs and started running towards her house. Her heart was so full of joy that she forgot all her aches and pains. How come this magic happened? she thought.
All of a sudden, the face of the luminous lady she had met a few minutes before appeared before her. Her dark curly hair reminded of the clouds that were now bellowing over her village. Shakti looked up. She could see the clouds rumbling in the sky. One particular cloud took the shape of the silhouette of the idol kept in the village temple of Devi Jagdamba seated on her lion.
Babbar Sher!
Shakti recalled the lion in the grove. Looking up, she could feel some vibrations. The cloud glowed with a golden hue amidst the other dark clouds. It was the figure of Ma Jagdamba mounted on her grand lion.
"Was it you, Mother Divine... Devi Ma!" She bowed down in reverence, feeling the presence of the divine mother in and around her. Tears of gratitude rolled down her eyes conveying more than what words could have said, merging with the rain and falling on the ground that was lying thirsty for ages.
Glossary:
Amrit Bela: Early morning hours
Mai: Mother
Baba: Father
Lota: A small vessel for carrying water
Churail: Witch
Mashaals: Torchlight
Alta: Dye
This story by Associate Editor Shristee Singh is part of the anthology 'When Goddesses Walked the Earth'. You can pick a copy from the link below...
Shristee Singh is currently working as Associate Editor with Chrysanthemum Chronicles, a contemporary publishing house. Besides writing for her blog Shristeesphere, she contributes to various literary forums. Writing for her is not a race but a journey. A song that comes from the soul.
Coming from St. Mary’s Convent, Ramnee Nainital, she had been a constant contributor to her school magazine. While in Isabella Thoburn College, Lucknow, she was recognized for her contribution to English Poetry at the Youth Festival of Lucknow Mahotsav. She had been a nominee for the Author of the Year 2019 at StoryMirror.
Her story, ‘The Golden Bird’, from the anthology ‘Arising from the Dust’ has been featured on East London Radio.
She has been published in several literary journals and anthologies. Her debut book, ‘Cosmic Vibes, from chaos to quietude’, a collection of soulful poetry was released in the year 2022.
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