दुर्गा
Durga
The first name and the last -- the fortress that cannot be breached, the circle that closes where it began, teaching that one hundred and eight names were one hundred and eight mirrors held up to one woman, and the woman was you, and the goddess was never in the temple, she was the one looking out of your eyes while you searched every temple for her face.
ॐ दुर्गायै नमः
Oṃ Durgāyai Namaḥ
Etymology · व्युत्पत्ति
From "durgā" (दुर्गा) -- she who is difficult to reach, difficult to know, the fortress that cannot be breached, the pass that cannot be crossed, the challenge that cannot be avoided. The root "dur" (दुर्) means difficult -- and "gā" (गा) means to go, to reach, to approach. She who is difficult to approach. Not because she hides. Because she is vast. Not because she is distant. Because she is everything, and everything is the hardest thing to see.
Meaning
One hundred and seven names. Adi Shakti. Mahishasuramardini. Dashabhuja. Jagadamba. Chandika. Vindhyavasini. Simhavahini. Siddhidatri. Katyayani. One hundred and seven names, each a facet, each a story, each a woman in a city, each a teaching, each a weapon or a meal or a mountain or a breath. And now -- the last name. The one hundred and eighth. And it is the first name. The name you knew before you read any of the others. The name that was written on the invitation to this entire journey: Durga. She who is difficult to reach. But you have reached her. Not by climbing to a temple. Not by decoding Sanskrit. By reading one hundred and seven names and discovering, in each one, a woman you recognized -- a fury you have felt, a tenderness you have given, a mountain you have been, a river you have become, a lion you have ridden, a siddhi you carry without knowing its name. You reached Durga by recognizing that Durga was already in the room -- in you, as you, wearing your face, holding your tea, raising your children, fighting your fight, enduring your Tuesday, returning your Wednesday. She was difficult to reach not because she was far away. She was difficult to reach because she was too close to see. She was the one looking out of your eyes while you were looking for her. The 108th name is the 1st name because the journey is a circle. You began with Durga and you end with Durga and in between you met a hundred and six faces of the same woman who was always, always, always you. Not a goddess in a temple. You. Getting on the bus. Making the tea. Filing the FIR. Drawing the rangoli on top of the mud. You. The fortress that cannot be breached. The pass that cannot be crossed. The woman who is difficult to reach only because you have been looking everywhere except the mirror. Look at the mirror. She is there. She was always there. One hundred and eight names. One goddess. And the goddess -- after all the fury and all the tenderness and all the philosophy and all the mountains and all the lions and all the rivers and all the kitchens and all the courtrooms and all the 5 AM buses and all the 2 AM highways and all the green shoots and all the rangolis and all the tears in row seven -- the goddess is you.
Story · From tradition
The Devi Mahatmyam begins with Durga and ends with Durga. The Nava Durga begins with Shailaputri and ends with Siddhidatri but the frame is Durga. The Lalita Sahasranama begins with Sri Mata and ends with Sri Lalitambika but the tradition is Durga. Every path through the goddess leads back to the same name -- the original, the complete, the one that contains every other. The Markandeya Purana, in the verse that precedes the entire Devi Mahatmyam, says: listen to the glory of the Devi, who pervades this entire universe. Pervades. Not visits. Not governs. Pervades -- fills every molecule, occupies every atom, is present in every electron's orbit and every star's collapse and every morning's light and every woman's breath. She is difficult to reach because she is the reaching and the reached and the distance between. She is the one hundred and eight names and the silence between them and the woman reading them and the screen they are read on and the light that makes the screen visible and the electricity that makes the light and the coal that makes the electricity and the prehistoric forest that became the coal and the sun that grew the forest and the cosmic fire that became the sun and the goddess who became the fire. The chain does not end. The names do not end. Name 108 is Name 1. Durga is Durga. The circle closes. The journey was always home.
Modern Context · आज के संदर्भ में
You. Right now. In the room you are sitting in, on the device you are reading from, in the body you have carried through every page of this journey. You -- the woman who started at Name 1 with Durga and arrives at Name 108 with the same Durga and discovers that the circle was always drawing itself back to the point where it began: your own hands. Your hands that held the phone or the book or the screen. Your hands that make the tea. Your hands that filed the RTI or drew the rangoli or held the scalpel or gripped the steering wheel at 2 AM or cupped the face of a child who was crying or opened the trunk that was packed at 10 PM or rolled the incense sticks in Vrindavan or held the ballot in Niyamgiri or placed the paratha in a stranger's hand on the Haridwar train. Your hands. The goddess has ten arms in the mythology. But she chose, this time around -- in this body, in this city, in this morning -- to have two. Yours. And those two hands have done, across the span of your life, what ten divine arms did across the span of a myth: they have fought, fed, held, released, endured, created, destroyed, loved, and remained. You are Durga. Not metaphorically. Not inspirationally. Structurally. The fortress that cannot be breached is your refusal to be broken. The pass that cannot be crossed is the line you drew that no one was allowed to cross. The goddess who is difficult to reach was difficult to reach only because you kept looking at the temple instead of the mirror. Look at the mirror now. Say her name. It is yours. It was always yours. Om Durgayai Namah. One hundred and eight names. One woman. You.
Meditation · ध्यान
Sit. For the last time in this series. Close your eyes. Place your hands on your own heart -- both palms, one over the other, the way you would hold something infinitely precious and infinitely familiar. Feel your heartbeat. That heartbeat has been the percussion beneath every name -- every battle was fought to this rhythm, every river flowed to this tempo, every lion charged to this drum. Your heart is the mridangam of the goddess. Breathe with her final name: 5 counts in -- Dur (the difficulty, the fortress, the challenge), 5 counts out -- Ga (the going, the reaching, the arriving). Dur-Ga. The difficulty of reaching what was always here. After 9 rounds, keep your hands on your heart. Open your eyes. You are looking at the room from inside the goddess's body. Not a metaphor. The body that is reading this -- the fingers, the eyes, the breath, the heartbeat -- is the body the goddess is wearing today. She has worn a hundred and eight names. She is wearing yours now. Sit for 9 minutes -- one minute for each theme: Adi Shakti, Mahishasuramardini, Dashabhuja, Jagadamba, Chandika, Vindhyavasini, Simhavahini, Siddhidatri, Katyayani. One minute each. In silence. The series is complete. The goddess is home. She was always home. Home was always you.
Mantra Practice · मंत्र जप
Chant 108 times -- one for each name that has been spoken, one for each face of the goddess you have met, one for each woman in each city who was the goddess wearing a different sari. Use any mala -- the 108th name does not restrict. Every mala is correct. Every posture is correct. Every direction is correct. Every hour is correct. Because Durga is everywhere and the chanting of her name is correct in every condition. Voice should carry everything: the fury of Chandika, the tenderness of Jagadamba, the steadiness of Sthira, the daring of Sahasini, the bliss of Chidanandarupa, the fullness of Purna, the return of Shashvati, and the irreducible, unbreachable, undimmable, undefeatable quality of a woman who is difficult to reach only because she is everywhere, including here, including you. Best always. Now. Om Durgayai Namah.
Journal Prompt · चिंतन
“You have read one hundred and eight names. Which one is yours -- the one that made you stop breathing for a second, the one that described the woman you were before you had words for her -- and are you willing to speak that name aloud and claim it?”
One hundred and eight names. One goddess. The goddess was difficult to reach. Not because she was far. Because she was the one looking out of your eyes while you were looking for her. She was always you. You were always Her. Om Durgayai Namah.
Video · Short Film
Video · Coming Soon
YouTube Short for this name is being produced
Theme: The Final Form · Names 97-108