Devi Vandana

 It was 5a.m the world still whispered in softness and the first light of dawn appreared in the sky as crimson hues. Debi moved quietly through her home, completing her daily chores with a sense of urgency and stepped into the pujaroom.

She began by cleaning the altar, wiping away the dust as though clearing the clutter within her own thoughts. Every movement was mindful, every gesture an offering.

She lit the lamp, and as the flame flickered, it filled the room with a warm, golden glow—like a silent prayer rising upward. One by one, she arranged the garlands, each flower chosen with care, each strand placed delicately around the image of the Devi, as if adorning Her beloved presence.

Her fingers lingered as she gently caressed the picture of her Devi, a touch filled with love, reverence, and an unspoken intimacy. With tender devotion, she draped the sari around Her, adjusting its folds as a daughter would for her mother.

In the kitchen, her offerings had already taken shape. Fresh fruits were cut and arranged for naivaidyam, their colors vibrant and pure. The soft aroma of payesam filled the air, sweet and comforting, prepared with the same care one reserves for someone deeply cherished.

She sat down quietly, her spine straight, her breath slowing. The world outside faded away. In the gentle glow of the lamp, surrounded by fragrance and stillness, she closed her eyes in meditation.

And in that silence, her devotion deepened—no longer in actions, but in presence.Debi knew that fulfilment would come when she became one with her Devi.But how does one surrender completely?

The never-ending “I” kept returning—again and again, in one form or another.

“I am not good enough”… or “I am better than others”, in pain, and in pleasure.What does it feel like when you lose everything?Maybe—empty.Stuck. Caged. Suffocated.

The body stiffens.The breath grows rapid, as if trying to break free. Yet the mind freezes.You cannot put into words what is happening.You cannot even ask for help.It is a numb state.And yet, the pain remains—now intensified by panic, by echoes of past thoughts.

What she had always longed for was simply to be heard.No validation.No right or wrong.No flood of solutions.Just presence.To be held.To be allowed to feel.She realized it was okay to be vulnerable.Okay to feel overwhelmed.Okay for her nervous system to tremble and tire.

But when she is not her completely how can she surrender?Or… was that the best time to do so—as the “I” was slowly fading?

Is this Devi's leela?Slashing the “I” unapologetically with Her axe,dancing wearing a garland made not of flowers—but of all the shattered selves we had once clung to.

So that one day…Debi would not just worship Her—but become Her.Debi’s family was loving—always ready to help, often going out of their way for her.And yet, something within her felt uncomfortable.A quiet restlessness lingered.A feeling that she had to do more.That she was not enough.

There were two parts within her.One whispered, “You are not good enough.”The other rose in resistance—gently but firmly—reminding her of all the times she had not given up.Even when her bones felt like they were breaking in pain,when her heart pounded against her chest,when her breath tightened and her body contracted—something within her still rose… victorious.

In those moments, it felt as though Devi Herselfhas picked her up,and  held her in Her palms,and she breathed new life.She realized—she did not need validation for her pain.What she truly needed… was someone to listen.She began to understand that it was okayto be vulnerable.

And even in those moments,she was still enough—because she tried.Our duty, she felt, is only to keep striving—not to force outcomes.That is not in our hands.To keep trying—in pain and in joy.To keep the energy moving.

And perhaps…that itself is the true alignment with nature.