Rohit stepped into his home, the familiar creak of the old wooden door announcing his arrival. The midday sun cast long shadows across the room as he handed his mother the bag of daily necessities he had gathered from the bazaar. She took it with a warm smile, her eyes softening as she looked at her son.
"Thank you, Rohit," she said, her voice carrying the weariness of years but also the strength of a woman who had seen many seasons pass.
Rohit smiled back, his heart warmed by the simple act of providing for his family. He turned to see his father sitting by the window, looking out at the bustling village street. The aroma of spices and freshly cooked rice wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of incense from the small shrine in the corner.
"Come, Rohit, let's have lunch," his father called, his voice gentle but firm. Rohit nodded, joining his parents at the wooden dining table. The meal was simple yet hearty, a testament to his mother's culinary skills and the love she poured into every dish. They ate in comfortable silence, the clinking of utensils the only sound punctuating the air.
After lunch, Rohit excused himself and retreated to his room. The modest space was his sanctuary, filled with books, old photographs, and mementos of his spiritual journey. He sat on his bed and pulled out the ancient book given to him by the shop owner earlier that day. The book was bound with the bark of the Hooghly tree and leaves carefully stitched together, exuding an air of antiquity and mystery.
Rohit gently untied the thread that held the book closed, revealing the delicate, aged pages within. He marveled at the craftsmanship and the rich history embedded in the book's very existence. The Hooghly tree, from which the binding was made, held a significant place in the lore of his homeland.
As he began to read, his mind drifted to the story his grandfather had often told him about the origin of their district. Long ago, the area where the Hooghly district now stood was a dense forest of Hooghly trees. The local zamindar, a feudal lord, had once faced a devastating drought that threatened the livelihood of his people. In desperation, he performed a joga, a large divine offering ritual, seeking guidance from the gods. The deity who answered his prayers instructed the zamindar to relocate his estate near the Ganges River, where the forest of Hooghly trees stood. This divine intervention led to the founding of what would become the Hooghly district.
Rohit turned the pages slowly, absorbing the intricate details of the sab sadhana described within. The book meticulously listed the ingredients needed for the ritual, the precise tithi (auspicious date) and lagna (auspicious time) for its performance, but offered no clues about the challenges he might face during the sadhana. Despite the uncertainty, Rohit knew that this was a crucial step on his path. Without completing the sab sadhana, he would never be able to attune himself to higher spiritual powers. The stakes were high; failure could mean eternal entrapment in hell.
He continued to explore the book, discovering detailed descriptions of the ten Maha Vidyas—ten great forms of divine feminine power worshipped for their immense spiritual potency and knowledge. Each deity represented a unique aspect of life and death, power, and wisdom. The names of these formidable goddesses were familiar: Kali, Tara, Tripura Sundari, Bhuvaneshvari, Bhairavi, Chhinnamasta, Dhumavati, Bagalamukhi, Matangi, and Kamala. Rohit, a devout follower of Maa Kali, understood the significance of each goddess and the power they wielded. While he did not believe the order of their mention mattered, he respected the profound reverence each deity commanded. Worshipping and pleasing these goddesses was no simple task; it required intense devotion, rigorous discipline, and sometimes, the ultimate sacrifice.
Rohit felt a deep sense of awe and trepidation as he read about the rituals and practices associated with each goddess. The descriptions were vivid, detailing the specific offerings, mantras, and meditative practices required to invoke their blessings. He knew that seeking the favor of these deities could grant immense spiritual power and knowledge, but the path was fraught with danger. The slightest misstep could lead to severe consequences, even death.
As the afternoon sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue across his room, Rohit carefully put the book away. He closed his eyes and began his evening meditation, his mind focused and serene. The rhythmic chanting of mantras filled the room, creating a cocoon of spiritual energy around him. The weight of the day's revelations settled in his mind, but he remained steadfast in his resolve.
After his meditation, Rohit joined his mother in the kitchen to help prepare dinner. The familiar routine brought a sense of normalcy, a brief respite from the weight of his spiritual journey. Together, they chopped vegetables, mixed spices, and stirred pots of fragrant curry. The rhythmic clinking of utensils and the sizzle of food on the stove created a comforting symphony.
Once the meal was prepared, they performed the evening Sandhya Aarti, a ritual offering to the divine. The flickering flames of the oil lamp illuminated the small shrine in their home, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Rohit felt a deep sense of peace and connection as he chanted the prayers, his voice melding with his mother's in harmonious devotion.
After the Aarti, Rohit sat down with his mother to explain his plans for the night. "Ma, I need to stay at Ratan's house in the village tonight," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. His mother's eyes widened with concern.
"Why, Rohit? Is everything alright?" she asked, her worry evident.
"Yes, Ma. I want to go there they are arranging a picnic there,pls can I go, pls " he explained, hoping she would understand.
At first, his mother was reluctant. The thought of her son venturing out into the night filled her with anxiety. But as Rohit looked at her with his puppy-dog eyes, a look he had perfected over the years, she felt her resolve weaken. Who could resist the pleading gaze of a 24-year-old man who still had the charm of a child?
"Alright, Rohit. But be careful, and come back as soon as you can," she relented, her voice softening.
Rohit smiled, grateful for her understanding. "Thank you, Ma. I promise I'll be safe," he assured her, giving her a reassuring hug.
As night fell, Rohit made his way to Ratan's house, his heart filled with anticipation for the journey ahead. The cool evening breeze carried the scent of jasmine and wet earth, a soothing balm against the oppressive heat of the day. The village streets were quiet, the usual bustle replaced by a serene calm.
Ratan greeted him warmly at the door, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Ready for tonight?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of reverance and concern as he picks a huge black plastic bag.
Rohit nodded, his resolve unwavering. "Yes, Ratan. It's time to take the next step."
Together, they prepared for the night's sadhana, gathering the necessary ingredients and setting up the space for the ritual. The ancient wisdom contained within the book guided their actions, each step a carefully choreographed dance of devotion and precision.
At the last step ratan pulled out body of women from the black bag and placed it in ritual site.
As they worked, Rohit couldn't help but ask 'ratan who's shab is this' with profound eyes.
Ratan first looked at rohit and then begun ' she is an serial killer lived in nadia district killing and eating child livers her favorite she have been caught many times but as an influenced person every time the saved by her mla brother her crimes never reviled to public so we took her down and her brother also, remember to deal with the ritual carefully do not let her spirit turn into a pishach (demon) such a spiteful person have the most of the chances to turn into one'.
After this explanation rohit calmed his mind and dident said anything and continued the ritual and reflect on the journey that had brought him to this moment. The path of spiritual awakening was fraught with challenges, but it was also a journey of profound transformation and self-discovery will not be easy. With each step he take will also be redden and blackened with the blood of this type of monsters.
Tonight, as he embarked on the sab sadhana, he knew that he was not just performing a ritual, but taking a crucial step towards fulfilling his destiny. The road ahead was uncertain, but with the blessings of the Maha Vidyas and the support of his loved ones, he felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
As the night deepened and the ritual began, Rohit felt a sense of calm wash over him. The flickering flames, the chanting of mantras, and the sacred space created an atmosphere charged with spiritual energy. In that moment, he knew that he was exactly where he needed to be, on the path to discovering the true dimensions of his existence.
After watching straight back of rohit who is in deep meditation, ratan retreated from samshan and gone to the Chhinnamasta temple outside of samsan.