Danteshwari Chalisa

Goddess Danteshwari, mother of the whole universe, I bow to you again and again, O radiant Ambika.

You are Shivani and Parvati, the mother of the world. O Danteshwari, you shine with a lovely dark-hued form.

Durga and Kali are among your names. For the good of your devotees you take on many different forms.

Whoever takes your shelter and bows their head before you sees their hard times pass and their sins washed away.

Your abode sits at the sacred meeting of the Dankini and Shankini streams. Your grand temple there is a place that gladdens every heart.

Like a caring guide who welcomes travellers, you greet devotees at your gate. Your darshan is open day and night, at dawn and at dusk.

This is the blessed dwelling of Bhaneshwari. Here too resides the friendly younger sister-goddess who stands beside you.

You are Shakti, Sati, Shambhavi and Bhavani. You are Gauri the fair one, Sharada the giver of knowledge, and Mother Kalyani who brings all that is good.

For the welfare of the world you journeyed from Warangal, with a king walking ahead to lead your way.

You granted your boon under a promise: you would follow as long as the sound of your anklets could be heard behind him.

The moment he turned and saw the divine light, the stone before him split at once into pieces, marking the place where you would stay.

Poets have told the story of Daksha's sacrifice in many ways. You are the daughter of Daksha, the one who brings blessing to the world.

When you gave up your life in the sacrificial fire, Shiva, the destroyer of Tripura, took up your body and wandered in grief.

Wherever parts of your body came to rest, those very spots became holy Shakti Peethas.

Where your tooth fell, the goddess was enshrined. This is the revered Danteshwari, a Shakti Peeth of proven power.

The mind-born attendants of Lord Shiva stand there every moment as your guardians.

Bhairava, the fierce form of Shiva, keeps watch there ready at all times. Your two footprints are marked upon the stone.

In this way you came and settled in the Dandaka forest. O Mother, you destroy the impurities of the Kali age and lift away sorrow.

Your temple on the riverbank is beautiful beyond words, and a second shrine of yours stands upon the hill.

Each year the Mother travels to Jagdalpur, moving in procession with her attendants at her side.

The Dussehra festival of Bastar is a marvel to behold, as if the celestial Pushpaka chariot had descended to earth.

There are the inner-night and outer-night rites, when the yogi is ceremonially seated and later ceremonially raised.

The primal maiden goddess is seated on her throne, and the sacred journey to Kumharakot is carried out.

Trumpets, drums and cymbals sound out. The deities are mounted in procession and then dance with calm dignity.

The Anga and Mawali priests, men and women alike, the gods and goddesses and the Manjhi attendants all gather together.

The chariot is bright with flags and banners. The Mother rides with royal canopy, fly-whisks and palanquin.

On Vijayadashami the festival reaches its close. The goddess comes to her sacred seat and grants darshan to all who arrive.

Both Navratris carry a splendour all their own; it feels as though the whole town has turned into Diwali.

The lamp-pots form a glittering garland of light, casting a shimmering, gathered, pure-white glow.

With clean wicks fed by pure ghee and oil, the lamp burns on, unbroken, through all the nights of Navratri.

Here the wondrous, power-giving Yantra is worshipped. There is no other place quite like it anywhere on earth.

You shield your devotees from every illusion, sorcery and spell, and you guard them from disease, grief and even death itself.

At the mere sight of your name, powerful ghosts, evil spirits and strong enemies begin to shake with fear.

You are the slayer of demons, bearing six arms, and your ornaments and garments are striking and unlike any other.

Victory, victory to Mother Danteshwari! You dwell in every particle, in all that lives and all that does not.

Upholders of dharma, learned scholars, kings, paupers, beggars and givers of charity, all stand equal before you.

Tantriks, reciters of mantras, ascetics and penance-doers, saints, the unconventional Aughads and the celebrated perfected ones all turn to you.

Celibate students, householders, boatmen, forest-dwelling elders and renunciates all serve you alike.

The seeker who meditates on you with a steady mind, and the servant who keeps you in remembrance, find their devotion rewarded with success.

Whoever recites this Chalisa has their troubles taken away, and every distress is brought to an end.