Aghoris

A Short Story on India’s Aghori Sadhus by Pragya Suman

Aghori Sadhus in some parts of North India are well known. Some people in those parts, especially women and children are afraid of them. But why they should be feared – because they don’t even have an inch of reason to live in reality. They believe and live all the time in some transcendental reality and mood. Thus I was hearing some stories about Aghori Sadhus from my mother as I was growing up.

Later on as I grew up and became knowledgeable through reading or otherwise, I knew more about Aghori Sadhus – disciples and followers of Lord Shiva – the God of destruction, in hindu philosophy or the trinity of life-creation, preservation, and destruction or transformation unless one achieves nirvana or oneness with God. Aghoris among followers of Lord Shiva believe that Lord Shiva is absolute, omnipotence, omnipresence and omniscience. According to them, whatever happens in this universe happens because of Shiva. Even the path to the next step of creation in the trinity certainly has to go through destruction first by Lord Shiva. Among the female deities for the Shiva followers, Kali is the most sacred form worshiped by the masses in mainly the Eastern parts of India. 

“Only Aghoris live physically here and they also swim like brown birds – look above they are in those flocks.” My mother pointed up towards the sky by right index finger, with rest of her fingers wrapped in red wool thread. She was knitting a sweater for my younger brother as the winter was in the air and at the door. 

“But they are flying, not swimming,’ I objected – but soon, I thought about the blue sea lingering in my imagination in an infinite lap. Isn’t everything swimming? Perhaps Aghoris also stand on the earth, but they swim--not they but their abstract fabric, which could be called astral body in spiritual nomenclature. Even our physical world according to Science is supposed to be created by a big primordial soup of elementary particles at the beginning of time. But that is not part of my story. I could justify that by the knowledge learned, but the deep mystery and some skepticism about Aghoris remained. 

“They transcend the social taboo, and they engage in post-mortem or post death rituals. Graveyards are their homes and niche, and they eat and drink in human skulls. Skulls are white, and winter is also white, but I am thinking about the red wools and the brown birds of that time – life plays tricks, and how easy the physical world is compared to the astral world or call it the world of the mind.” I discussed it with my elder cousin, who is also interested in the metaphysical world, but details of those matters were mundane with my mother.

Aghoris are followers of lord Shiva in a weird and perhaps a unique way. My mother is also a daily worshiper of lord Shiva, and in her home temple, a lota (a small rounded metal pot) remains hanging above the Shivling, the symbolic yoni/phallus stone statue used for the worship of lord Shiva, 24 hours a day for 7 days a week, with water dripping and dropping drop by drop on the Shivling. Mother worshiped Shiva, but was dreaded from Aghoris with a bit of respect also, and why?

Mother had her own reason about it, which she told me one day.

“One day, nobody was at home. Your father was in office, and you all children went to school. It was about 11 am; I had completed my breakfast and was napping, sitting on a cane chair in the outer courtyard. The entrance gate was locked as most of the houses used to be vacant at that time of the day.”

She continued, “Suddenly I lost my sleep as a sharp, thickened sound thudded my bones. An Aghori Sadhu was standing at my gate. He was giving a fearsome look, with big bulging eyes sagging – neither up nor down – but horizontally, it seemed at once he was perforating me merely with his glance. His whole body was ash smeared, and long hairs were matted in knots, draped in a saffron shawl and loincloth. Dreadlocks descending down the skull were wavering like a cobra on his sides.”

“One should not return a Sadhu empty handed, so I gave him some rice and lentils in a bowl, but he seemed uninterested.”

“Give me some money, Mother, not food, as I have had enough meals,” Aghori demanded in a straight tone!  

Just a few coins! He was demanding, and I didn’t know what came over me that I at once forbade him and made excuses that I did not have khudara (change) coins in the house.

“So sorry, please don't get angry and take this food.” I requested.

“Aghori prodded the soil with his wooden staff for a while, left the rice and lentils, and walked away perhaps to the next neighbor’s door!”

“I was relieved that Aghori was gone, and soon I engaged myself in other household work. I was thus able to banish the thoughts of that dreaded Aghori sadhu from my misty mood after some time.”

“Later that noon, I was in urgent need of some khudara coins, and so I lifted the corner of the mattress of my bed, because I had kept coins there in the early morning. But to my amazement – nothing was left there; what happened to the coins?”

“Nobody was in the house except me.” My mother concluded.

“I was dead sure, or was I?” My mother said.

Coming back to present, I still remember, my Mother’s big eyes wide open, looking even bigger in the amazement to this day in the fading sunlight behind her, as she told me the story of that Aghori Sadhu visiting our house and our thoughts like a being.

A Short Story on India’s Aghoris, by Pragya Suman

Editor’s Note: Some of the photos used in this story for visualization only are taken from the refence: https://desinema.com/15-jaw-dropping-facts-about-aghoris/ , where you can learn more about Aghoris .