The story of Goddess Jagaddhatri, the Upholder of the universe
The key to her status as the "Slayer of the elephant demon Karindrasura"
Jagaddhatri, an aspect of the Divine Mother, brings the quality of purity and stability (Satva guna)
Discover how this powerful narrative confirms that spiritual mastery is possible for everyone willing to do the work
A turning point in the Samudra Manthan: the introduction of Mohini, Vishnu's enchanting form. The Yogi Shiva is completely mesmerized, leading to an unexpected moment of surrender.
The story culminates in the emergence of Harihara, the combined figure of Shiva and Vishnu. It's a striking visual of integrated opposites: one side ascetic and one side adorned. This sequence offers a simple, clear statement on the necessity of balance and the idea that different forces can work together without conflict. Watch the full retelling.
We often read stories until the happy ending—Lakshmi returns, Vishnu departs victorious. But the Mahabharata as told by Kashidas in Bengal doesn't stop there. This is the account of Shiva's furious, then steady, entry into the Ocean Churning and the unexpected, chaotic element he had to address.
Shiva's order to resume the churning, after everyone had left, was a challenge to the status quo. It revealed that the job wasn't about the treasures alone; it was about dealing with the consequences of the process. The poison that emerged was the mess everyone had created and tried to escape.
Shiva didn't back off. He simply stood there and contained the chaos in his throat, becoming Neelkantha. This action, Kashidas suggests, is the quiet, essential mechanism that holds everything together.
Understand the significance of this powerful narrative addition. Watch the video now:
You know the story of the Samudra Manthana, but do you know the part where Shiva gets angry and forces a re-start?
This account, specific to the Kashidas version of the Mahabharata, argues that the process was not complete until Shiva intervened. When he commanded the exhausted devas and asuras to continue, the result was not the desired nectar, but a massive cloud of world-ending poison.
Shiva’s subsequent act—drinking the poison and holding it in his throat to become Neelakantha—is not just a heroic moment. It is a fundamental statement about the nature of existence: any creative process produces inevitable toxicity, and a stabilizing force is needed to absorb that chaos without being destroyed by it.
Read the complete analysis on this pivotal episode.
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Happy Kali Puja! Let’s explore a fascinating story from the Linga Purana about Goddess Kali, the Asura Daruka, and the unexpected role of Lord Shiva.
Daruka, through intense penance, had acquired power that threatened the worlds
The battle was won, but Kali’s fury burned on
This moment, associated with the Tarapith spot
Watch the full story:
Happy Diwali and Kali Puja! We explore a powerful chapter from the Devi Mahatmyam that highlights the necessary and focused action of Goddess Kali.
When the generals Chanda and Munda approached Ambika, Kali did not emerge in chaos. She emerged from Ambika's darkened forehead as a force that was the answer to injustice reaching its limits
She is often misunderstood. We see the skulls and the sword, but not the intention: she does not destroy for pleasure. She clears the clutter, representing a fierce kind of care
The lesson is in the aftermath: after bringing the heads of the generals, Ambika named her Chamunda, stating that fury must end in composure. Strength is born when anger learns to rest
Watch the story:
In the Bengali version of the Mahabharata by Kashidas, a simple visit from Rishi Narada to Mount Kailash ignites one of the most relatable conflicts between Shiva and Durga. The issue? What does a householder truly need?
After the great churning of the ocean, Narada reports that while Vishnu received Lakshmi and other deities got their treasures, Shiva's home received nothing.
Shiva's initial response is gentle and proud: he explains his philosophy of contentment, valuing the bull (Nandi), the tiger skin, and the ash—all things others cast aside. This is the voice of pure, simple living.
Durga, however, shifts the conversation from personal preference to worldly responsibility. She challenges the idea that detachment is sufficient, stating that prosperity and dignity are non-negotiable for a householder. Her insistence that turning away from these is 'cowardice' makes Shiva's calm crack, leading to a massive mobilization of his followers.
This narrative serves as a practical reminder: we must find the balance between a simple inner life and the need to engage practically and honorably with the external world.
Watch the full, dramatic story:
Rishi Narada’s news that Shiva was entirely overlooked after the churning brings Parvati to the forefront. She challenges her husband's commitment to a detached lifestyle, especially as a householder. Her words highlight the importance of upholding one's standing and not passively accepting disrespect. The moment she accuses him of "cowardice" for his extreme detachment, the atmosphere shifts completely.
The ensuing furious mobilization of Shiva and his army is a display of ultimate authority, asserting the need for respect. This compelling text shows that while inner peace is important, one’s dignity must also be defended.
Read the full, dramatic account: Substack
For enthusiasts of Indian literature and Hindu texts, the Bengali Mahabharata by Kashidas presents a fascinating departure from well-known accounts of the Samudra Manthan (Ocean Churning).
This video delves into the main points of divergence from Vyasa’s original text:
Lakshmi and Dhanvantari Switch Places: In a major change, the text shows Dhanvantari (the figure carrying the sacred vessel) emerging before the goddess Lakshmi. This is a direct contrast to other authoritative sources.
The Parijata Tree's Role: The inclusion of the Parijata tree as a product of the churning is a unique feature of the Bengali retelling. The video explores how this addition contributes to the narrative's overall theme of life's varied richness.
These textual alterations showcase how stories are shaped by regional concerns. Kashidas deliberately frames the effort and cooperation involved in the churning around the ultimate goal: the re-establishment of well-being and societal balance.
Watch the comparison for a deeper understanding of this regional text:
Explore the rich details of the Samudra Manthan as narrated in the Bengali Mahabharata by Kashidas
Before her emergence, the ocean produced a host of items: the luminous moon
The central point of this retelling is that equilibrium and stability were restored only after Vishnu welcomed her
Watch the video to understand the full context:
The Mahabharata story of the churning of the ocean of milk is a detailed look at the reality of intense, long-term effort. I explore how the rivalry between the gods and demons was temporarily set aside for an act of necessary cooperation
My video covers the dramatic peak of the churning: the mountain blazing with fire and smoke from the naga Vasuki's breath, cooled by a massive, balancing rainstorm
I argue that the most important part of the story is the renewal: when their individual willpower failed, they asked for support, and Vishnu restored the strength needed for the final stage
In a pivotal account from the Mahabharata, we find the fascinating story of the churning of the ocean of milk. It's a striking reminder that to achieve a breakthrough, even rivals—the Gods and the Asuras—must practice cooperation and teamwork.
The Ocean of Milk is a powerful symbol of potential and nourishment. The physical process—turning the ocean using Mount Mandara as the rod and the naga Vasuki as the rope, stabilised by a large tortoise—shows that the ultimate treasures emerge only through concentrated, collaborative persistence.
Discover the beginning of this captivating narrative and see how these powerful figures prepared to endure the churning to find what they sought.
Hello everyone! I owe you all an apology and an explanation.
Lately, I have felt that I am not doing justice to this blog, and I want to be honest about why. I have been completely absorbed in my work on the Mahabharata of Kashidas. This is a massive, time-intensive project, and combining it with my YouTube channel and keeping up with daily life has essentially maxed out my schedule.
My current attempts to post feel haphazard, and I don't want to offer anything less than my best efforts.
So, I am hitting pause on this blog for now. This is not a goodbye—I will absolutely be back to posting regularly!
Until then, please come join me on my current platforms:
For the Mahabharata project: Find me on Substack .
For video content: Subscribe to my YouTube channel . I post videos related to Mahabharata Ramayana and sometimes other Puranas.
Thank you so much for your support and patience! I look forward to sharing more with you soon.
Vinata’s impatience changed everything. Instead of waiting, she broke her egg early, and Aruna was born incomplete. The Mahabharata shows how comparison and envy can destroy what patience would have perfected. In today’s fast-paced world, this story warns us not to rush growth — what is nurtured slowly reaches its full strength.
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Madalasa agreed to what her husband said. She then decided to guide this son in a different way. Instead of what she had taught her earlier sons, she soothed the crying Alarka and began talking to him.
‘O son! Grow up to be a great king and become the kind of person your father wants you to be. As a king, become the protector of the people. Become that person whose name will be known far and wide. Perform good deeds. Make people happy. Understand people and ensure you are not surrounded by evil-minded people. Become the one whose name will be known for years to come. Pray to the gods. Respect and listen to your elders. Devote your life to doing good for others. Do not think and lust for others' women. Think of Krishna and give him a place in your heart. Control the six vices - desire, anger, avarice, delusion, arrogance and jealousy. Understand and control delusion. Have wars when needed, conquer kings and accumulate wealth. Spend that wealth for good.'
Madalasa continued talking, 'My son, be careful never to enjoy hearing others being criticized. Words that bring people down are poisonous — don’t let them enter your heart. Instead, rescue those who are drowning in difficulties, as if they were in an ocean of calamities. Please the gods by offering them respect, and please those who come to you for refuge — especially learned teachers and holy men — by giving them food and shelter. Give women joy with things they cherish. Face your enemies with bravery in battle when the time comes. In childhood, bring delight to your relatives and listen to your elders. In youth, bring joy to women of good character and noble families. In old age, bring peace to the sages and hermits who dwell in forests. Rule your kingdom well, and give happiness to your people. Protect the virtuous, perform sacred duties, and for the sake of your land and its people, destroy the wicked who threaten them — even if it means facing death.'
Alarka grew up hearing these lessons again and again. Day after day, his mother’s voice became the foundation of his understanding of the world.
When Alarka grew older, he underwent the sacred thread ceremony, marking his passage into learning and responsibility. One day, he bowed deeply before his mother and said:
“Mother, I seek your wisdom. Tell me what I must do to be happy in this world and in the next. Tell me what my duty is as a king, what is best for myself, for righteousness, and for the people I rule.”
Madalasa looked at her son with tender eyes. She saw not only a boy but the king he was about to become. And so, she gave him teachings that every ruler — indeed, every leader — should know.
“My son,” she said, “when you rule, do it in a way that brings joy to your people — but never at the cost of what is right. Your first loyalty must be to dharma — the path of truth, justice, and righteousness. Avoid vices, for they eat away at the roots of truth. Guard your secrets carefully, for when a king’s plans are leaked, it is as dangerous as a chariot veering off its path — disaster is certain. Be watchful: know who is wicked, who is virtuous, and beware of advisers corrupted by enemies. Use spies wisely to understand what your rivals are planning. And remember — don’t trust people blindly, whether they are friends, acquaintances, or even relatives. Sometimes, those you think are strangers may be the most loyal. But before you fight an outer enemy, conquer your inner enemies — desire, anger, greed, arrogance, pride, and indulgence."
"Many great men of the past fell because they did not conquer themselves. Pandu brought over his doom by killing a couple making love and died when he tried to make love to his wife. Anuhlada by anger, Aila died because of his obsession with gaining more power and wealth, which caused him to lose his kingdom and his life. Vena died because of his arrogance, Anayusha’s son by pride, and Puranjaya by indulgence and excessive praise. But King Marutta, who conquered his inner enemies, conquered the world. So, remember: before ruling others, learn to rule yourself.”
Learn from nature and from creatures around you:
Be like an owl when facing your enemies — watchful and silent. Be like an ant — working steadily at the right time. Be like the sun and the moon, who give light and protect the earth with balance.
Formulate policies with four tools: conciliation, gifts and generosity, punishment when necessary, and strategic division. These are the ways to preserve peace and order.
Follow the conduct of the great powers of the universe:
A true king does not give in to greed or desire. He does not rule for wealth or personal pleasure, but for dharma — for truth, order, and the happiness of all. When a king helps people stay on the right path, he earns not only their love but a place in heaven.
The supreme duty of a ruler is to protect society so that every person — whether a farmer, a priest, a warrior, or a worker — can follow their rightful path in life. If you do this, you will not only bring prosperity to your kingdom but also secure eternal happiness for yourself.”
At its heart, the passage is a handbook for ethical leadership and whole-person formation: rule outwardly with justice and protect your people, but rule inwardly first by mastering your desires and emotions. “Dharma” here is the organizing idea — not merely religious ritual but the principle of right action: truth, duty, fairness. Madalasa pairs inner work (conquering desire, anger, greed, delusion, arrogance, jealousy) with outward responsibilities (protecting the weak, feeding teachers, rescuing the suffering, and defending the realm). She offers a practical moral psychology: character determines destiny. The repeated injunctions to respect elders and teachers, to place a devotional pole-star in the heart (Krishna), and to perform public duties show a balanced ethic: devotion and self-control sharpen the will, while generosity and firm justice shape society. The strategy of “Sama, Dana, Danda, Bheda” (conciliation, gifts, punishment, and strategic manoeuvre) anchors the philosophy in prudence — moral ends require skillful means. In short: personal virtue makes political virtue possible.
Every specific command in the text carries social function. Telling a future king to “rescue those drowning in calamities” and “feed the brahmanas/teachers” is about social safety nets and cultural continuity — it keeps societies resilient and educated. Warnings against taking pleasure in others’ criticism guard against a culture of schadenfreude that corrodes trust. The sacred-thread ceremony passage marks a rite of entry into responsibility: the child becomes accountable. The injunction to “not lust after others’ women” safeguards households and social order; in a modern ethical reading it becomes a teaching against objectification and betrayal. Listing historical failures (Pandu, Vena, etc.) models how moral lapses have practical, catastrophic consequences for leaders; these are cautionary exemplars. Finally, the animal and cosmic analogies codify leadership virtues (vigilance, timing, patience, impartial justice) into memorable, teachable items — significance lies in turning values into actionable habits.
The passage is saturated with symbolic teaching: the “ocean of calamities” symbolizes emotional overwhelm and collective crisis — to “rescue” those in it is to practice active compassion. The sacred-thread ceremony symbolizes the transition from dependent child to social agent. Krishna is a symbol of the inner moral guide or highest ideal one keeps in the heart; devotion here equals orientation toward a steady center. The animals are compressed moral metaphors: the crow (alertness and opportunism), cuckoo (timing and song — knowing when to speak), bee (gathering resources without harming the source), crane (patience), snake (caution), peacock (dignity/pride to be disciplined), swan (discrimination — the ability to separate milk from water, truth from falsehood), cock (vigilance), iron (resolute strength), owl (silent watchfulness), ant (diligent labor), sun/moon (consistent benevolence and balance), wind (invisible intelligence, i.e., networks of information). “Sama, dana, Danda, Bheda” symbolize a toolkit for relational governance — reconciliation, generosity, firm law, and strategic intelligence. These symbols compress ethical complexity into images the mind can keep.
This text translates surprisingly cleanly to contemporary life. “Do not enjoy hearing others being criticized” is an antidote to online trolling and pile-on culture: don’t amplify humiliation for cheap pleasure. “Rescue those drowning” applies to volunteering, emergency services, social work, mental-health first aid and disaster relief. The admonition to “guard secrets” reads as modern advice on data privacy and responsible leadership—leaks and careless disclosures destabilize organizations. “Conquer inner enemies” is modern psychotherapy: emotional regulation, addiction recovery, and impulse control are leadership essentials. The Sama/Dana/Danda/Bheda framework resembles modern conflict resolution and public policy: negotiation first, incentives and welfare second, enforcement where necessary, and targeted strategic measures when other tools fail. The counsel to “accumulate wealth and spend it for good” maps to ethical philanthropy, public investment, and social enterprise. Even the call to respect teachers and elders echoes mentorship, apprenticeship, and institutional memory that modern organizations need.
Practical, everyday takeaways pour out of the passage: (1) Before you try to lead others, cultivate self-discipline — pick one inner “enemy” (say, anger) and practice one daily technique to reduce it. (2) Don’t glorify others’ failures — practice empathy, and when you see someone shamed, ask how you can help. (3) Build a moral toolkit: when in conflict, try reconciliation first, generosity second, fair consequences third, and strategic alternatives last. (4) Choose advisers carefully; check motives and look for corruption or flattery. (5) Learn by imitation from small things: practice the crow’s alertness by taking a 10-minute morning scan of your environment; learn the ant’s patience by committing to steady work; practice the swan’s discrimination by separating facts from gossip. (6) Use resources—time, money, influence—to protect the vulnerable (teachers, refugees, elders). These are actionable, habit-based lessons for character, leadership and community care.