Venus and Her Lover

by Becca Tzigany

Therefore, I must admit, that my request for a guru in India had always had a foregone conclusion. Perhaps my American “rugged individualism” precluded fully submitting to another’s requirements. Or my Renaissance woman could not confine herself to one teaching only. Or, like a good Taurus bull, I was simply too headstrong.

  We sat with other gurus during our travels: pressed up against thousands of devotees and sweating through darshan with Amma, receiving a hug from her at one of her ashrams in Kerala; listening to Vedantic philosophy from Baba Ram Puri, a naga baba (“naked yogi”), from the ascetic Shaivite tradition; and savoring chai and conversations in Khajuraho with Swami Ganga, a wise sannyasin who had known Osho (Bhagwan Shri Rajneesh) from the early days of his Poona ashram, when the “sex guru” helped followers to a new sense of freedom by deconstructing traditions and practicing his brand of neo-Tantra. I was grateful for how willingly they all shared and could appreciate the truths that each tradition brought to the fore. In the end, however, the Truth (with a capital T) continued to be what I experienced resonating deep within my core: the Truth – as many gurus have said – that has been there all along. Ramana called it sat-chit-ananda: being-consciousness-bliss.

  Or, as James liked to say:

  Question: How do you spell guru?

  Answer: G-U-R-U (Gee! You are You!)

  WHAT HAPPENED TO SHAKTI

  Peek into the psyche of any neo-Tantra practitioner for a symbol of what they imagine their tradition to be, and you will see a snapshot from a temple wall of Khajuraho.

  James and I had such images in our minds for years, given our study of Tantra. Therefore, our Indian itinerary, as loose as it was, always had Khajuraho on it. As many photographs and drawings as we had seen, we needed to be there, to feel the place, and to try and understand what kind of society had created these monuments to human loving.

  It was not the society of India we had been encountering so far, that was for sure. In matters sexual – even just dealing with the Feminine, for Goddess’ sakes! – we had encountered polite disapproval or denial, and we began to understand that Shashi had not been exaggerating when he said he could not protect us from harm if we offended the wrong people. In the popular imagination in India, Tantra was most often associated with black magic and depravity. It was considered dangerous.

  It was not easy to get to Khajuraho – though we heard they were putting in a train line – and its remote location had probably saved the architectural treasure, now declared a World Heritage site. Originally containing 85 temples built under the Chandela Dynasty between 950-1050 CE, the religious center was receding into the forest when a British army engineer stumbled upon it in 1839. It now boasts 20 restored and carefully tended temples. Like intricately notched pine cones sitting on platforms, the spires rise loftily, while pilloried porches and balconied windows jut out laterally from the compact sanctum and halls. For James, the tall platforms meant steps to climb, and then to get inside the sanctums, more steps to climb. If the overall architectural forms of the rounded towers had not been so pleasing, the bands of ornate sculpture could have been overwhelming, because it looked like every square centimeter of the walls inside and out were carved. From my inner hedonist’s perspective, Khajuraho’s sandstone and granite spires were mounds of pineapple, peach, and cappuccino sherbet caressing the cloudless, blue sky with delicate contrast. That was how they looked from a distance.

  Up close, figures carved in exquisite detail marched across the walls, dramatizing the artisans’ refined aesthetic sense. Dr. Krishna Deva, of the Archaeological Survey of India, has stated, “...the Khajuraho temples vibrate with a rare exuberance of human warmth.”143 Some people have disparaged the art as “the work of a degenerate society obsessed with sex”144, but given that only 10% of the sculpted figures depict sexual poses, it seemed to us that the degenerate obsession lies on the other side of that equation. Granted, the statues were predominantly naked (but splendidly adorned with jewelry and ornaments for the head, ears, nose, chest, arms, fingers, waists, ankles, and toes), which, as far as I was concerned, seemed an appropriate dress code for a climate with torrid summers. We saw high reliefs of elephants, horses, and soldiers filing off to war; architects planning; artisans working; mothers holding babies; musicians playing the flute or vina; women disrobing, bathing, and touching their breasts; men stroking their beards; bejeweled apsaras (celestial nymphs) singing and dancing; gods and goddesses reigning on their thrones... and amorous couples engaged in kissing, touching, foreplay, and a multitude of sexual positions, sometimes with several others. In other words: an illustrated record of the joys of life. Pain and suffering did not get much play. The figures mostly showed young and healthy people: sleek men, and women with breasts round like grapefruits.

  Who built the temples at Khajuraho? It was manifestly apparent that they were people who worshipped the Goddess as well as the God and believed that through sexual union, one could achieve moksha (spiritual liberation). Who could argue with such a belief? And why would anyone want to?

  Goddess Rising

  Only when Shiva is united with Shakti

  does he have the power to create.

  ~ Pushpadanta/Shankara 145

  Dr. Deva has written that the building style of Khajuraho “marks the highest development of medieval Indian architectural design.”146 In my subsequent reading I discovered that the word “medieval” was misleading for me, because in Western history, the Middle Ages were considered the Dark Ages, and in terms of women’s rights, given the gruesome efficiency of the Inquisition, they could even be called the Awful Ages. A term I found more appropriate regarding this period of medieval feudal kingdoms in India was the Golden Age (roughly the third-sixth centuries CE in North India and the 10th-11th centuries in South India, with some kingdoms maintaining high levels of culture, science, engineering, mathematics, philosophy, and the arts over more centuries).

  While worship of the Great Goddess is indigenous to the Indian subcontinent, it simmered below the surface of the dominant Vedic religion and its gods, caste system, and exclusive priestly rituals, until it arose again, around 200 CE, in a defiant form known as Shaktism or Shakta. Shakti, the Feminine Principle, worshipped in her many goddess manifestations, was considered supreme. Shakti combined the powers of Creation (of the god Brahma), Sustenance (the god Vishnu), and Destruction (Shiva or Rudra); all emanated from one (feminine) source. The Goddess, no longer simply a consort to the male Trinity, jumped onto the stage naked, fiercely riding a tiger or wielding a sword, or devouring enemies. Shaktas worshipped the vulva, for She was, above all, sexual. Shakti was the animating force of the Universe.

  Myths reflected the rise of the Feminine. In one myth, Shakti, the daughter of a Brahmin king, chooses her own husband (valuing a “love match” over an arranged marriage) from the lowly Chandala class (defying laws of caste), showing that a woman had the power to make her own decisions. In Shakti’s next incarnation, Parvati did not need her husband Shiva to make a baby; she forms Ganesha out of rubbings from her skin, sandalwood paste, saffron, clay, and dew. In a perennially popular myth, the lovely, upper-caste Radha, dissatisfied with her husband, seeks true love and passion with dark-skinned (lower-caste) Krishna (eighth avatar of Vishnu); the triumph of their love is still celebrated in countless posters, stickers, statues, and amulets to be found in any village kiosk.

  Shaktism was diametrically opposed to patriarchal Vedic culture, which kept its rituals and practices alive through Shaivism (Shiva is supreme) and Vaishnavism (Vishnu is supreme). Now the goddess Shakti ruled, thereby replacing a patriarchal mindset with a matriarchal mindset – unequal however you slice it. The antagonistic duality would be resolved with the rise of a synthesizing force: Tantra.

  As a non-dual philosophy, not only did it honor the Transcendent Absolute (Shiva) and Activating Energy (Shakti), Tantra pointed at a reality completely beyond duality. Anthropomorphizing these Universal forces, the
new dynamic depicted God Shiva and Goddess Shakti in sexual union and recognized orgasm as a way for humans to experience a taste of ecstatic non-dual realization.

  The Golden Age

  Knowledge is the Divine Mother through whom we are born as Gods. Entering into the higher knowledge is to enter into the body of the Goddess for our own spiritual rebirth. To contact the Divine Mother and commune with her powers unfolds the various degrees and stages of our own inner transformation.

  ~ David Frawley

  The increased status of goddesses had implications for the status of women in society. There are records of female rulers and governmental administrators (more so in South India than the North). In Jainism, nuns enjoyed the same rights and chances for advancement as monks, unlike in Buddhism. During the Gupta Empire, upper caste women could be educated, and some became teachers. Female musicians, poets, and dancers distinguished themselves.

  One part of society where women could excel was as courtesans, sacred prostitutes of the devadasi (“servants of the Divine”) tradition. Originating as “brides of the god” donated to the temple by their families, the devadasis were trained in the 64 Tantric arts (writing, singing, dancing, music, conversation, seduction, etc.) to please the gods, bring favor to the community, ensure fertility of the crops, and offer sex as a holy offering to the priests or nobility who supported the temple. Along with being intelligent, witty, and talented, the glamorous devadasis wore the most exquisite silks and jewelry and received their clients in magnificent love chambers. So important was their role as the gods’ consorts that they were socially exalted; they were the movie stars of their day. Outside temple walls, professional prostitutes enjoyed similar respect, garnering property and riches. Their expertise in the Kamashastras (the art and science of love-making) was honored as an important service to society.

  Perhaps the impetus for Hinduism to open up its broad, multi-colored umbrella to gather everyone underneath was a movement that swept through the different religions (Shaktism, Shaivism, and other –isms) late in the Golden Age. This movement was called bhakti, meaning “devotion.” Carried forward by the emotions toward the divine Beloved, worshippers could now express their adoration of Shiva or Vishnu (primarily in South India) or Rama or Krishna (incarnations of Vishnu worshipped in North India) in a personal way. Wooing the gods or goddesses through pujas filled with song, dance, and chants, devotees made offerings of sandalwood incense, ghee candles, garlands of flowers, milk, and sweets. So ecstatic would the ceremonies become, that laws forbid people from trying to copulate with the icons or statues! Feminine themes were part and parcel of such worship, and bhakti practice allowed – in fact, encouraged – the participation of women.

  The worship that James and I witnessed in Hindu temples, some of it familiar to me through my years of practicing yoga, was rooted in bhakti practice. Rita Banerji, in Sex and Power, writes, “The bhakti movement in effect was a mass civil movement of the people to release the sacred from the exclusive domain of the priests and the upper castes, and make God socially accessible to all.”147 She goes on to note that it did away with priestly privilege and complex rituals based on a secret language (Sanskrit), in order to open worship to all castes. By 1300 CE, the bhakti movement had laid the unifying foundation for what would become Hinduism.

  The cultural opening of the Golden Age allowed advances in philosophy, architecture, technology, science, and culture. Kingdoms governed in a relaxed way, keeping taxes low while still providing hospitals and schools for the people. Trade guilds used their collective power to own land, advance their trades, and develop their own governance. Crime was low, and people could travel freely among the kingdoms. A fifth-century Chinese traveler, Fa-Hien, described prosperous Gupta villages where people seemed “content and happy.”

  These happy conditions existed increasingly the higher up the castes you went. Despite some exceptions allowed through bhakti and Tantric practice, the Shudra caste still crawled along the bottom rungs of society, cleaning streets and disposing of carcasses. In the home, the man still ruled the roost, dictating that his women comply with child marriage and polygamy. Sati (widow burning) was still an honorable tradition.

  The Sun Sets on Khajuraho

  Art must be an expression of love or it is nothing.

  ~ Marc Chagall

  The main grouping of temples at Khajuraho basks among gardens of shade trees, fuchsia-colored bougainvillea, trimmed shrubs, and green lawn. After days of touring the temples scattered in the area, I returned alone late one afternoon, after the hoards of tourists had gone. Walking straight to the Lakshmi temple, climbing the many steps, I lay before her shrine a garland of marigolds. Quietly praying, I affirmed, “May your abundance, your flowing abundance, put everyone’s fears to rest. May the children be fed, may the mothers have a home, may the fathers smile upon their families, knowing that you, Lakshmi – the Sustaining – always provide. Thank you, Earth Mother, for giving us all the precious gift of life.” Sitting awhile with the echo of my prayer, I opened my eyes and contentedly surveyed the sculpture of this small temple. Suddenly I realized where my eyes were resting: a smiling, kneeling man in pink sandstone was grasping a woman from behind whose bended knees were splayed to give him access. She wore a crown of spirals and a serpent necklace and a demure grin. As I studied the figures above me, I could not see her yoni because it was obscured by the curved folds of a loincloth... but no, she was not wearing any clothes – only a serpent wrapped around her waist. So, what was flowing out of her vagina? I laughed out loud. There she was, jutting out from the wall in an impossible yogic pose, flowing, flowing, flowing abundance. I leaned toward the carved wall to stand under the invisible shower of feminine nectar... flowing, flowing, flowing abundance.

  Brimming with joy – like I had just been let in on a sexy joke à la Baubo – I descended the Lakshmi temple to wander the park-like grounds as the sun cast golden rays low across the temples. Ensconcing myself among a clump of trees, I perched upon a rock that was in sunlight, my throne from which to survey the grandeur of Khajuraho. A gardener moved a hose across the lawn. A black-faced, tawny-furred monkey scaled the sculpted walls of Visvanatha Temple, her hands and feet treading upon entwined couples, their bended knees and rounded breasts mere footholds for this simian mother carrying her child, who looked down at me with his tiny pink face and brown eyes.

  The setting sun smoothed a luster upon the conical temples that appeared to be chiseled out of saffron paste. Khajuraho blazed in glory before my eyes as I imagined what it must have been like in the Golden Age… a liquid afternoon just like this one, with the devadasi gliding past, her ankle bells tinkling, as she adjusted the frangipani blossoms in her hair, preparing for tonight’s dance performance at Shiva’s shrine. Sweet fragrance wafted behind her. A couple walked arm in arm, stopping here under the trees to kiss – which was allowed back then – her deep brown eyes moist with emotion, him smiling at the radiant manifestation of the Goddess he saw in his beloved, just as he had learned in Tantric puja. Their hearts quickened in anticipation of tonight’s bhakti ritual, and afterward, their bodies aflame with passion, they would make love under a sky that revealed an infinite cosmos.

  Drifting in my reverie, I wondered if I had lived here then. When did I begin dancing down the Tantric path? What must it have been like to be woman in a Tantric culture?

  “Madame!” a man’s voice jolted me. A mustachioed guard looked plaintively at the woman here all alone. “We are closing. You must go.”

  With a respectful nod his direction, I slowly gathered my bag. Standing up, I straightened my salwar kameez (light trousers and tunic) and readjusted the diaphanous dupatta scarf. Shoulders covered, chest covered, legs covered... I was ready to return to present-day Khajuraho. Or was I? Glancing wistfully back at my golden daydream, I sighed. There had been a time when Shakti had been honored, and people, experimenting with beholding one another as divine, sought ecstatic
transcendence in making love.

  Suddenly realizing that I was, in fact, a woman here all alone, I walked quickly to the gate. The world, by in large, was not like that anymore... and from what I could tell, especially not in India.

  The Second Sex

  Sexually awakened women, affirmed and recognized as such, would mean the complete collapse of the authoritarian ideology [Patriarchy].

  ~ Wilhelm Reich

  When James and I left Khajuraho and Varanasi in the north, we ventured into South India, visiting the states of Tamil Nadu (where Mt. Arunachala is), Puducherry (formerly Pondicherry), Kerala, and Karnataka. Whereas in the north, the predominant Vedic culture over time had absorbed some Dravidian values (thereby allowing powerful goddesses such as Kali and dark-skinned gods such as Shiva), in the south, the native Dravidian culture survived for centuries with an overlay of Vedic rituals and caste organization. Even in the 19th century, when the British imposed their rule, they encountered bare-breasted women who not only refused to don the sari but also exercised their powers of personal choice and sexual freedom. For South India was the last bastion of Dravidian culture, where traditionally the matriarch was held high, and family name and property passed through the woman. Matrilineal inheritance was as repugnant to the British sense of the “natural order” as it was to the Vedic Brahmin sense of caste, and British imperial law would soon greatly diminish the economic and social standing of Dravidian women. They officially became – to borrow Simone de Beauvoir’s term – the “Second Sex.”

  We hoped that here in the south we might find more equality of the sexes, or at least, less abuse of women. Our usual perusal of local newspapers, however, had brought us a daily dose of dismaying news with disturbing headlines:

  “This Love Story Claimed 8 Lives” – honor killings of sisters or daughters who met men without family approval148;