Dan Simmons - Song of Kali

"I felt almost nothing as I knelt there. My mind continued to echo Sanjay's words. I should have used you . I was a provincial fool. Worse than that, I was a provincial fool who could never go home again to the provinces. Whatever else came from this night, I knew that the simple verities of life in Anguda were forever behind me.

"The temple fell into silence. We closed our eyes in dhyana , the deepest contemplation possible only in the presence of a jagrata . Sounds intruded. The river whispered half-perceived syllables. Something slithered across the floor near my bare feet. I felt nothing. I thought nothing. When I opened my eyes, I saw that the crimson tongue of the idol had lolled farther from the gaping mouth. Nothing surprised me.

"Other Kapalikas came forward until each of us had a priest kneeling in front of us, facing us across the obscene altars we had supplied. My Brahman was a kindly-looking man. A banker, perhaps. Someone who was used to smiling at people for a living.

"My priest lifted my right hand and turned it palm up as if he were about to read my fortune. His other hand went into the loose folds of his dhoti . When it emerged, I saw the quick gleam of sharp steel.

"The chief priest placed his forehead against the raised foot of the goddess. His voice was very soft. The goddess will be pleased to receive your flesh mixed with blood.'

"The other priests all moved in unison. The blades slid across our palms as if the Kapalikas were whittling bamboo. A fat sliver from the meaty portion of my palm sliced off neatly and slid across the blade. All of us gasped, but only the fat man cried out in pain.

" Thou who art fond of sacrificial meat, O Great Goddess. Accept the blood of this man with his flesh.'

"The words were not new to me. I had heard them every October during the modest Kali Puja in our village. Every Bengali child knows the litany. But never had I seen more than a symbolic sacrifice. Never had I seen a Brahman hold high a pink circle of my flesh and then bow to insert it in the gaping mouth of a corpse.

"Then the smiling, apologetic little man across from me took my injured hand and turned it palm downward. The Kapalikas in the darkness behind us began to recite the holiest of the Gayatri mantri in perfect unison while the dark drops fell slow and heavy to the white surface of the drowned thing at my knees.

"The mantra ended, and my banker-priest deftly retrieved a white cloth from his tunic and bound up my hand. I prayed to the goddess that it would soon be over. A sudden hollowness and sickness had risen in me. My arms began shaking and I feared that I might swoon. The fat man three places from me did faint, falling forward across the cold breast of the toothless old female corpse he had brought. His priest ignored him and returned to the darkness with others.

" Please, goddess, let it end , I prayed.

"But it did not end. Not yet.

"The first Brahman raised his forehead from the jagrata's foot and turned to us. He walked slowly along our semicircle as if inspecting the bodies we had brought as offerings. He paused for a lengthy moment in front of me. I could not raise my eyes to meet his. I was convinced that the drowned corpse would not be found worthy. Even now it gave off a stench of river mud and corruption like a foul breath rising from its gaping maw. But a second later the priest moved on in silence. He inspected Sanjay's offering and moved farther down the line.

"I risked a sideward glance in time to see the bare foot of the priest roughly push the fat man's bulk off its cold pillow. Another Kapalika hurried forward and hastily set the child's skull back in place on the cadaver's sunken belly. The fat initiate lay unconscious next to his cold crone, two unlikely lovers torn from their embrace. Few of us doubted whose countenance the dark goddess would next raise up by the hair.

"I had no sooner begun to control my shaking than the priest was back in front of me again. This time he snapped his fingers and three Kapalikas came forward to join him. I sensed Sanjay's almost desperate desire to move farther away from me. I myself felt little. A great coldness had moved through me, cooling my throbbing hand, extinguishing my fear, and emptying my mind. I could have laughed aloud as the Kapalikas bent toward me. I chose not to.

"Tenderly, almost lovingly, they lifted the swollen excrescence that was the corpse and carried it to the slab at the foot of the idol. Then they motioned me forward to join them.

"The next few minutes run together in my memory like half-captured dreams. I remember kneeling with the Kapalikas before the shapeless dead thing. I believe we recited the Purusha Sukta of the tenth Mandala of the Rig-Veda . Others came forward from the shadows carrying pails of water to bathe the putrefying flesh of my offering. I recall that I found as very funny the idea of bathing someone who already had spent so much time in the holy river. I did not laugh.

"The chief priest brought out the stalk of grass, still marked with dried blood, which had decided our young inititate's fate the day before. The priest dipped the blade in a chalice of black lamp paste and painted half-circles above the holes in the corpse where once eyes had looked out on the world. I had seen holy effigies painted thus, and once again I fought back the urge to chuckle as I realized that it should have been the eyelids that were so marked. In our village ceremonies, such a ritual granted the clay form eyesight.

"Other men approached to place grass and flowers on the forehead. The tall and terrible Kali idol looked down as we recited the basic mula-mantri 108 times. Again the priest came forward, this time to touch each limb and place his thumb on the bloated white flesh where once a heart had beaten. Then, together we uttered a variant of the Vedic mantra which ended — 'Om, may Vishnu endow you with genitals, Tvasta carve the form, Prajapati provide the semen, and Kali receive your seed.'

"The chorus of voices filled the darkness once again and rose in the chant of the holiest Veda, the Gayatri mantra . It was just then that a great sound and powerful wind rose to fill the temple. For a wild second I was sure that the river was rising to claim us all.

"The wind actually felt cold as it roared through the temple, blowing our hair, rippling the white fabric of our dhotis , and extinguishing most of the candles in the rows behind us. As clearly as I can recall, the temple never fell into total darkness. Some of the candles continued to burn as their flames danced to the eerie breeze. But if there was still light — any amount — I cannot account for what next occurred.

"I did not move. I continued to kneel less than four feet from the idol and its anointed offering. Nor did I perceive any other movement except for a few Kapalikas behind us striking several matches to relight some of the candles. It took only a few seconds to do this. Then the wind had passed, the sound abated, and the jagrata Kali was once again illuminated from below.

" The corpse had changed .

"The flesh was still grub-white, but now Kali's foot came down on a body which was visibly that of a man. It was as naked as it had been previously, flowers still strewn on its forehead, lampblack dabbed above the eyes, but a pale sex organ lay flaccid where only a rotting pustulence had been just seconds earlier. The face was not whole — the thing still had no lips, eyelids, or nose — but the ruined countenance was recognizably human. Eyes now filled the caves of the face. Open sores scoured the white flesh, but the splintered bones could no longer be seen.