Blood and Bones: The Making of an Aghori

It was the year 1945, right after the great Bengal famine, in the waning days of the British Bengal era. Aarav woke up with his usual headache and was nailing religious posters to the wall when, suddenly, his mum screamed that it was the death anniversary of his father. Aarav placed a garland and offered some sweets (Kanchagolla) in front of his father’s photo. His neighbor, Mubarak Chacha, came to visit them. Aarav’s mother, Leela Devi, garnished the remaining sweets on one plate and served them to Mubarak. Mubarak sneakily put coins worth 1 Anna in Aarav’s pocket and told him, “It’s for chocolates,” and that he should keep quiet about it. Even at the age of 13, Aarav sensed that because his mother was a widow, no one in the locality would even have a glass of water in his household, unlike Mubarak Chacha, who would come more often, feed him sweets, sponsor his English schooling, and always preach that there’s no religion greater than friendship. But now, a few of Aarav’s classmates had started to tease him by saying “Allah hu Akbar.”, One evening, Aarav was writing on palm leaves. With a big smile, he inscribed the famous prayer:

"Twameva mata cha pita twameva

Twameva bandhu cha sakha twameva

Twameva vidya dravinam twameva

Twameva sarvam mama deva deva"

He dedicated this heartfelt verse to his mother.Later on that night, the Hindu-Muslim riots were at their peak. People were being slaughtered like goats. It was heavily raining when Mubarak Chacha came in disguise, locked the door, rushed to the washroom, and cleaned his dagger full of blood. Little Aarav asked, “Is it Hindu blood, Chacha?” Mubarak smiled mysteriously, gave some small gummies to Aarav, and told him to forget it. Leela Devi told Mubarak Chacha to stay indoors as it was raining blood outside. Little Aarav cleverly threw away all the gummies this time and pretended to sleep. Suddenly, he had a bad dream about his dad and woke up to find shadows of a man and a woman in a compromised position in the partition of the mosquito net. Little Aarav was so shocked that he choked on his breath, his hands went cold, and tears rolled down his eyes. The saree and kamiz were scattered on the ground. He saw the dagger and rushed to kill Mubarak Chacha. He now understood why he had such severe headaches every morning; even in his youth, the sweet chocolates were not on his side.

The sloka "Kuputro jāyeta kvachidapi kumātā na bhavati" was vibrating throughout his conscience. He asked his mother while crying and chopping Mubarak Chacha, "A bad son may be born, but a bad mother never exists. Why did you teach me all this bullshit throughout my life?" His mother, in shame, told Aarav to kill her as well, but to prove this shloka wrong, he threw the dagger away and ran, leaving his mother in such a compromising position.

After running miles into the dense jungle, he found himself in a Muslim neighborhood and fell unconscious. Later, Aarav made up a story, claiming he was an orphan and was absconding after killing a British officer who had ordered the burning of his locality. The people took pity on him and gave him shelter. Within a few days, a huge dilemma of religion occurred in his mind. Now, in every man there, he saw Mubarak Chacha. One day, he dreamed that his mother, Leela Devi, had committed suicide, and his mental health worsened. He would scream and shout sometimes at night. The villagers took him to a Pir baba. Baba slapped him tightly and, to punish the boy, told him, “You fool, your place is in worshipping God and Tantra Sadhna. Confess what sin you have committed.” Aarav angrily replied, “How dare you? What do you even know of my religion?”

Baba said that even the greatest minds like Ramakrishna Paramhansa attained one of his siddhis through Islamic worship. He considered Hindus and Muslims equal. "Who are you, fool, to discriminate? Your place is not here. You shouldn’t have committed murder, and seeing either of your parents naked constitutes mahapaap. You must do prayaschitta to live." Aarav was shocked that someone knew his true self better than he did. Baba could see that Aarav still didn’t like the idea of a Muslim lecturing him about his religion, so to feed the boy’s ego, Baba told Aarav to go see the mad Aghoris near the cremation grounds.

Upon reaching the Maha Samshan, he saw Aghoris smearing cremation ash over their bodies, using bones from human corpses as jewelry, drinking alcohol from human skulls, eating dead dogs, and even eating their own flesh and feces. With heavy fear and disgust, Aarav puked all over and was caught by Aghori Swami Saradananda. Swami calmed him down and explained there is no fear; these are all your people. In Aghora, you need to see “One in All, and All in One.” He explained that all the intoxications, meat, etc., are tamas, but anyone here is capable of going from tamas to sattvic. It is just part and parcel of the Upasana of deities. Aarav thought this new identity was the best way to camouflage as a sadhu to permanently escape being absconding, but little did he know what nature had to offer.

Swami ji explained that to be an Aghori, he must die first. Listening to this, his whole body remembered the night of the murder. Regardless, Swami ji performed all the required rituals in front of the idol of Maa Tara to transform his identity. Finally, he told Aarav to go near the funeral pyre. When the skull burst with a pop sound, Aarav had to eat the roasted, gooey mass residue of the brain from the dead body. Aarav could never do that in his senses, but it seemed something had passed over him, and he started eating it, telling Swami ji that it exactly tasted like his childhood favorite, Kanchagolla.

Swami ji knew that the spirits must be happy, and Aarav's bodily fluids had stopped flowing. The juices of utmost intoxication of Maa Kali had started flowing into him. Swami ji offered a chillum to Aarav and told him to take a big puff.

Aarav suddenly went into a trance. After years of Sadhna and prana sacrifices, one day, one of the ten Mahavidyas, Maa Samshan Tara, in her Ugrakali form, came in front of Aarav. She asked him for three wishes. Aarav was spellbound. As if he had forgotten all his desires, with much effort, he couldn’t ask for money or the removal of the murder case against him. Instead, he asked:

1. Maa, who was I in my previous birth?

2. Maa, does criminality arise by blood and genes, or is it primarily only the circumstances that make a criminal?

3. Will I ever get to do Prayaschitta for my Mahapaap?

Maa smiled and said he would get answers to everything. Later, he told everything to Swami ji. Aarav saw that he recently got the name of Guru Maharaj, and he helped filthy rich businessmen predict horse races and gamble. Swami ji said to Aarav, “A fake, lower-grade sadhu like you can never get hold of his own kundalini, so getting hold of Shakti is even impossible. You must be tampering with spirits coming in disguise of Kali.” Hearing this, Aarav took out the same dagger and killed his own guru Swamiji. Later, Swami ji gave a good hit on Aarav's head and said, “It’s the end of the joint.” Aarav was shocked at this Leela Khela. Was all this hallucination?

Swami ji protested, “You greedy fool, you will take money for even giving Diksha, which you are incapable of. You should go away from here. Tantra is not for fools like you. You were a butcher in your previous birth, and yes, blood speaks more than circumstances to make a criminal. You could have avoided becoming a criminal. No Maha Papa, like killing your own Guru, raping a woman, or gambling, has any Prayaschitta. You must be reborn and reborn until this suffering ends.” Desperate and guilt-ridden, Aarav fell to his knees and pleaded, "Please, Swami ji, there must be another way. Please guide me. I will do whatever you say. I will eat my flesh, I will do all kinds of sadhna, anything you say."

After much hesitation, Swami ji replied, "In that case, you must take menstrual blood and bow down before it for Aghori Pooja."

Aarav was shocked. "How can we men bow down to something that is considered unclean? Even my mother used to hide it and say she had loose motions or a stomach ache during those five days."

Swami ji guided him to Kamakhya and explained, "Respect the tradition of the land. Sacrifice offerings and bow before the cosmic vagina of the mother of nature, the Mahavidya, our Maa Kali. Menstrual blood is the cleanest form of blood and holds high spiritual significance. One must always bow before such strong femininity, for we are all her children." Swami ji gave him the mantra, "Om Aing Hreeng Kleeng Chamundayi Viche," and told him to do japas and surrender all his ego before Maa.

Many years passed, and Aarav succeeded in his sadhna, becoming a Siddha Purush at a younger age than his guru. At a large gathering, in his final address before leaving his body, Aarav said, "The human body is capable of such heights that, when it is made like a yantra, even nature bows down. But if it is clouded by lust, sleep, and hunger, the body becomes a liability. There is no shame in bowing down before the great femininity, for only a right sister, mother, or wife can guide you out of difficult situations with their upright, unbiased criticism. Even while performing sanyas, there is no need to abandon your wife and mother in the name of religion. Great gurus like Ramakrishna succeeded in sadhna in every religion and yet never abandoned their wives. If someone is truly special, he will automatically be stopped from generating any semen, thus maintaining celibacy."

As Aarav spoke these words, the crown of his head opened, and his prana departed, merging with the greater universe. This was the exact date, nine months ago, that he had predicted his own death.

By Anagh Datta

From: India

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