Nicola Barker - The Cauliflower

Haladhari told Uncle what had happened, and I was then obliged to take on the Kali worship in his place.

I am in awe of the Goddess. I am quite afraid of her. But Uncle said with his own mouth — did he not? — that the Goddess would accept my service in exchange for his own. So I therefore imagine that the Goddess must appreciate my service in some small way. I have no desire to offend her. But I am not like Uncle nor even Haladhari. I am not overburdened with devotion. And I have never seen a holy vision. The Goddess has never granted me any special boon. Uncle emphatically disagrees. Uncle says that he himself is the Goddess’s special boon to me. Uncle is my gift — when I serve Uncle I serve the Goddess. And I do love to serve Uncle. Even through all our many hardships.

Mathur Baba has been so good to us. He has employed an eminent Ayurvedic physician, Gangaprasad Sen, to look after Uncle. We have been provided with endless powdery concoctions and potions and creams. Mathur Baba regularly sends Uncle expensive bottles of syrup of candy to try and dispel his dreadful flatulence. In time, when Mathur Baba inherits the Rani’s estate, I hope that he may become Uncle’s most generous benefactor. And mine, too. If we keep in his good graces. Because where would we be without Mathur Baba’s good graces? Truly. Truly . I hate to imagine where. I only know in my heart of hearts that wherever it might be, however poor and lonely and dreadful, Uncle and I must needs be there together. Because the Goddess wishes it so.

1865. A terrified Sri Ramakrishna, at a critical juncture in his grueling, twelve-year-long sadhana (or spiritual journey), is initiated — at the Dakshineswar Kali Temple (six miles north of Calcutta) — by a mysterious, orange-robed woman into the sixty-four bizarre and often dangerous disciplines of Tantra.

1.

March 1865: On the careful instruction of this mysterious orange-robed woman, an anxious Sri Ramakrishna helps to construct a meditation platform in the panchavati which rests upon the five skulls of five different species, one of which is human.

2.

June 1865 (or sometime thereabouts): The mysterious orange-robed woman presents Sri Ramakrishna with a beautiful young girl and asks him to worship her as the Devi (or Goddess). Sri Ramakrishna does exactly as she requests.

Mysterious Woman: “Good. And now that the worship is completed, will you please sit on this girl’s lap and chant with your prayer beads?”

Sri Ramakrishna ( weeping ): “But I have pledged myself completely to the Divine Mother! Would you honestly tempt me thus?!”

Mysterious Woman ( pointing, unmoved ): “Go. Sit.”

A still-sniveling Sri Ramakrishna inhales deeply, turns his thoughts to Ma Kali, then sits on the girl’s lap, starts chanting, and instantly becomes lost in a trance.

Some considerable time after he becomes aware of being shaken into consciousness …

Sri Ramakrishna: “Eh?!”

Mysterious Woman: “My child! Enough! Have pity! The discipline is now completed! This poor, long-suffering girl has terrible cramps!”

3.

July 1865 (or sometime thereabouts): Sri Ramakrishna is taken to a private house, seated comfortably on a mat, and then, following an intense period of prayer and meditation, the aforementioned mysterious orange-robed woman leads a naked couple into the room. They lie down together on a bed and proceed to make love. Sri Ramakrishna watches them writhe and groan and cavort with complete equanimity.

Mysterious Woman ( mildly interested ): “Pray, what do you see here before you, my child?”

Sri Ramakrishna ( smiling ): “All is beautiful! All is holy! I see nothing before me, nothing , but the blissful sport of the Divine Mother!”

The mysterious orange-clad woman nods, satisfied, as Sri Ramakrishna enters a state of deep ecstasy.

4.

August 1865 (or sometime thereabouts): the mysterious orange-robed woman offers a quaking Sri Ramakrishna a small chunk of rotting human flesh which has just been offered in tarpana (i.e., to the Deity), and asks him to touch it with his tongue.

Sri Ramakrishna ( wincing, aghast ): “Can it be done?”

Mysterious woman ( matter-of-factly ): “Of course, my child. Look…”

She puts the rotting human flesh into her own mouth, pauses, then calmly withdraws it again.

Mysterious Woman: “How else, pray tell, are we to conquer our weak and pathetic human aversions?”

Sri Ramakrishna closes his eyes, visualizes Ma Kali in her terrible form, and then, chanting—“Mother! Mother! Mother! Mother!”—he enters a light trance and opens his mouth, and the flesh is placed onto his tongue with no trace of aversion.

5.

11th September 1865 (or sometime thereabouts) : Sri Ramakrishna enters into a state of uncontrollable ecstasy at the sight of inebriated revelers outside an overcrowded tavern.

P.S. This is not — officially speaking — a part of the Tantric sadhana .

6.

12th September 1865 (or sometime thereabouts) : Sri Ramakrishna enters into a state of uncontrollable ecstasy at the sexual union of two stray dogs.

P.S. Nor is this.

7.

15th September 1865 (or sometime thereabouts) : Sri Ramakrishna enters into a state of uncontrollable ecstasy at the sight of a poor prostitute plying her trade on Calcutta’s filthy streets.

P.S. This neither.

8.

21st September 1865 (or sometime thereabouts) :

Certain quite random words — because of their sub- or un conscious connection with the divine — will henceforth act as linguistic trip wires and cause Sri Ramakrishna to fall into an immediate and uncontrollable state of ecstasy at any — and every — given moment.

Ooops! There he goes! He’s just fallen into another trance. You take his head, will you? And I’ll grab his …

Circa 1882, Sri Ramakrishna offers some practical advice to his householder devotees:

“Live like the mudfish—

Even though it dwells in filth

Its skin stays spotless.”

1847. The Rani’s dream(s)

Of course (as with most things in life), it’s simply a question of finding the right angle.… And yet no matter which angle we attempt to film it from, the actress playing the Rani still seems to find the scene of her “assault” deeply troublesome. She has been slapped so many times now (albeit simply in pretense. This is all sleight of hand.… Well , there may’ve been the occasional slip — the actor who plays Ramakrishna being a trenchant realist/naturalist/drama queen/bitch — and who’d have it any other way?) that we no longer need to apply blusher to her precious cheek, but are obliged to cover over the marks — obscure them! — with copious quantities of heavy makeup.

The actress is losing heart. We try to remind her of her subject’s lofty morals and profound spirituality. But still she harbors resentment. She’s been hired to play the Rani, hasn’t she? A queen? So how can she be expected to simply submit to such appalling treatment without struggling to bring a twinkle of feminist fire — nay, ire —into it?

Oh dear. She’s such a modern creature. Between takes she’s been poring over Rudyard Kipling’s “The City of Dreadful Night” (for Calcuttan background, for atmosphere — it’s her first film and she’s annoyingly keen) and as a consequence she’s now livid with Kipling, too (which is doing precious little to improve the quality of her, ahem , “performance”). She is righteously indignant. She was hoping for another Jungle Book , where all the rough edges (man’s and nature’s) are neatly and sweetly tidied up. But this no-frills Kipling’s a bust!