Out of Print Workshop at MAP: 'Navratri: The 11th Morning' by Sanchary Ghosh

Navratri: The 11th Morning

Sanchary Ghosh

Inspired by the Kalighat Patua of Jagdamba

The day after Durga slew Mahishasur, Her mount, the Lion Somnandi, woke to a startlingly bright morning. As His senses slowly arrived in the land of the waking, He felt disoriented – ten dark, gloomy days of the sun that felt like a distant memory had been replaced by a riot of colours and textures. 

Was this softly glowing, faintly golden-green carpet of grass the same murky one He had fallen asleep on? These shrubs looked fuller somehow, the forest shimmering alive with contrasting light and shadow plays. The events of yesterday slowly came back to Him. 

Somnandi recalled the volume of asura underling necks He’d snapped, all the blood and chunks of meat ingested. The memory brought satisfaction; the pride of knowing that He was instrumental in the downfall of the enemy plaguing the human pets of the Devas. Unfortunately, that also explained the hangover-like grogginess He was experiencing – He had not eaten whole carcasses, but the innumerable bites from the hordes slain probably constituted overeating. 

He got up and stretched, thinking of drinking some water. 

The very next second, He was assailed by a horrible churning in His stomach. He dropped down shaking, His entire focus hijacked by the pressure building up in His chest. It felt awfully like the contents of the last ten days were still inside and wanted to come out. He willed the churning sensation away – as a divine being, such things as odd and sickening feelings did not dare bother Him. 

But it did not work! Now, Somnandi started panicking because He had never failed to exercise His will, thus far. He decided to summon His Caretaker; She would fix him right away. 

Somnandi roared, a sound that shook the entire forest and made the animals hide. Durga heard His call, appearing instantly. 

‘What’s wrong, dear?’ She said, an amused smile playing on Her lovely face. 

He was irritated and roared again, but more softly this time. Couldn’t She sense His State? Why was She smiling and not making the dreadfulness go away? His insides cramped in another wave of rebellion against Him, but all She did was bend to stroke His mane and back. He liked it, but it wasn’t fixing Him. 

‘Aww, you’ve gotten sick. I told you not to nibble on the demons, didn’t I? But you just had to sample!’ She chastened. Somnandi narrowed His eyes at Her; now was not the time for a scolding. 

‘Darling, their flesh is poisonous. Not much even I can do right now. Best let it all come out; the sooner it leaves your system, the better you’ll feel,’ She said. 

He whimpered in humiliation and pain, as She cuddled Him, and encouraged Him to upchuck the contents of His stomach. At least, there were no witnesses to this embarrassment – a small perk of Their divinity.