Saraswati Shuddhi

Saraswati was dressed in white and her skin glowed brightly with the thoughts of the internal universe she was giving birth to. Yes she was surrounded with stars and all the galaxies but on her forehead was a waterfall reaching from infinity and moving to the infinite she was becoming slowly through her contemplation of purity. Isn’t she the mother goddess, from whom are our paths of origin?

Shuddhi was innocent. In her playful mood she used to go places where she was restricted to go. What she wanted was the open sky, the fresh air and her company, after all she was just 6. She didn’t realise one day when she had reached the mountain area in the outskirts of the village. It was raining heavily, raining devotional sprinkles searching for souls that wanted to reach somewhere deep.

The rains stop and the fresh smell from the soil creates an ecstatic environment. Shuddhi sees those butterflies of rainbow colours and begins to follow them, as if a mother running to catch her high spirited kids. She doesn’t even understand when she reached deep into the forests near the waterfall. As the butterflies rise higher she know that they are out of her reach now, but can children ever be apart from their mother?

Her eyes are moist. It is evening now and Shuddhi feels cold. With her arms folded she sits down near the waterfall still gazing at those butterflies. She feels the water seep below her, the smell of the nectar from the waterfall is colouring her too, she’s so small yet right now she looks the most beautiful creation of the goddess. She doesn’t want the butterflies to go but she knows they will. She closes her eyes silently and the butterflies enter the waterfall.

The other side of the waterfall is quite different. As the butterflies fly they notice twinkling stars and huge planets around them. Behind them a huge waterfall emanating from Saraswati’s forehead. Shuddhi opens her eyes and drinks some water from the waterfall, on the other side Saraswati smiles and that converts the butterflies into petals made of glittering stars. Shuddhi smiles too, her thirst is quenched, as finally the child reached her mother.

Shuddhi’s skin over her neck is soft and fluffy and over it the petals decorate. She touches them and Ma Saraswati begins to sing somewhere. Shuddhi’s neck feels a soothing sensation as she sings, but the music doesn’t originate from her mouth, it is from somewhere deep within her, somewhere she is not just an innocent child but the person from whose light the world sees, the waterfall originates from her soul reaching another innocent child of hers.