Her chest heaved heavily as her rage surpassed all boundaries, the skies filled with her shrieking laughter, her furious gaze fell on the demon armies. ‘Raktabeeja’ was at his ravaging best marauding the celestial world.
Dark skin hanging loose and the tiger skin barely covering her, the hag adorned with skull garland and an unruly mane arrived armed with the sword of vengeance. She began her rampage swallowing the demons into her oral abyss. The rest met their end as she opened her brilliantly flaming third eye adorning her Vermilion smeared forehead. The earth vibrated as she moved her claws destroying the demons who had dared to challenge the empyrean powers. Finally, she pierced Raktabeeja and consumed his blood till it drained off completely from his body, finally annihilating him. Her fury refused to die as she continued the upheaval and Lord Shiva lay on her path to end the mayhem…
The alarm pierced through her senses waking Ramya with a start. She had fallen asleep reading Maa Kali’s folklore in the tiny bedroom in her shanty. Her school teacher had given her the book before she was forced to drop out. Her father who had more alcohol than blood running through his veins had sold the motherless girl to the highest bidder. From then on, her life had been a tumulus roller coaster servicing the lecherous mortals who were no less than ravenous beasts. Eventually, she had settled into matrimony hoping for a happily ever after.
Her assumptions were nosedived with a husband no less than a barbarous pimp who lived off her income by soliciting men for her every night. An abiding sex slave, she had jumped from the frying pan to the fire. …
It was just last evening that she had recovered the tattered storybook and had fallen asleep that afternoon reading it. As she woke up, her chimera remained vivid. There was a surge of energy in her frail body as the resentment towards her father and husband resurfaced. Hopelessness paved way to a strange determination.
Her husband returned late evening along with a customer. However, as he entered their bedroom to summon her, he was taken aback. Standing before the cracked mirror was Ramya adorned in a black saree, her kohl-laden bloodshot eyes filled with molten rage, her defiant mop flying all over with a mind of their own.
“What is all this…? You seem different…” he spoke tentatively.
She turned towards him and shoved a sickle stunning him to fall on the hard floor.
“Wait… what are you doing…What is wrong with you…?” he wailed shuffling back to hit the wall.
“I am different, asshole…” Her voice reverberated through the mephitic air. “…it’s high time, you pathetic excuse for a human realize… this is MY life … I refuse to bow to your whims anymore. The Raktabeejas in my life will be destroyed, no matter how many sprouts up again…” Ramya declared with a foot on his chest.
Maa Kali had been summoned…
Raktabeeja: In Hinduism, Raktabeeja was an asura (loosely translated as demon) who fought with Shumbha and Nishumbha against Goddess Parvati, Goddess Kali or Goddess Chamunda. Raktabeeja had a boon that whenever a drop of his blood fell on the ground, a duplicate Raktabeeja would be born at that spot (rakta = blood, beeja = seed; “he for whom each drop of blood is a seed”)
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