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Interviews with a Tantric Kali Priest: Feeding Skulls in the Town of Sacrifice

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Interviews with a Tantric Kali Priest: Feeding Skulls in the Town of Sacrifice

 

by June McDaniel

 

 

 

Skulls are widely used in Bengali folk Tantra. They empower buildings and
grounds, like the relics in early and medieval churches. They are buried in tem-
ples, under the altar or in a corner, and they turn the building into sacred ground.
They are also buried at the foot of sacred trees, and they make ordinary ground
into an empowered meditation seat.
Although skulls and images of death are normally inauspicious in Hinduism,
certain skulls bring luck and fortune in meditation. Skulls give protective energy
(sakri) and support the sadhu in his efforts. They are often painted red, to show
that they are alive and auspicious, and to protect them from mold and the Bengali
weather. They are ironic images, which represent death yet encourage the spiritual
rebirth of the holy man or sadhu. Skulls are not old bones, but relics that mediate
the supernatural (alaukika) world, calling down the goddess Kali to help the
practitioner. Skulls are really not dead but alive, companions and friends of the
sadhus. They are inhabited by earth-bound entities who seek spiritual knowledge
rather than pleasure, but were never educated in this field during their lives.
Skulls give their power, and this is the sadhu's offering: he may become guru
to the dead. He can teach them the way to the heavens, and initiate them with
empowered mantras, the keys to the kingdom. Spirits are said to cluster around
meditating sadhus, but the sadhu will only give mantras to those spirits who bring
their skulls to him. They travel through the midnight air, carrying their skulls to
offer, and the ones he accepts belong to the spirits who will be initiated. The
sadhu takes the power from the skulls. This strengthens him in his own quest for
infinite wisdom (brahmajnana), for one needs power (sakti) to hold brahmajnana.
Without enough power, the Tantric sadhu could go insane, or he may have only
glimpses of his goal but be unable to maintain the state.
Sadhana (spiritual practice) with skulls is rarely seen today, but it is associated with certain locales, especially those with a background of death and sacrifice.
The town of Bolpur in Birbhum (West Bengal) was named for the large number
of sacrifices performed by one of its kings. According to the legend, centuries ago
the great king Raja Surat had a vision of the goddess Kali. She asked him to
sacrifice one hundred thousand goats to her (some versions say it was buffaloes),
and if he did this, his dreams would be fulfilled. He did indeed sacrifice these
goats, and gave the town its name (bali-pur, "town of sacrifice"). Since that time,
there has been temple worship of Kali in the town.
There are several Kali temples in Bolpur, and one of them is on the edge of
town, near the woods, with a large cremation ground nearby. This is the Kali
Temple of the Dry Lake, a temple is dedicated to Daksina Kali, who is a benevolent
form of the goddess worshiped by householders. She is also called Bhairavi Vais-
navi, showing that she is a Tantric goddess with such Vaisnava qualities as com-
passion and the ability to bestow happiness. Within the temple, there is a large
statue of Daksina Kali, with black skin and a smiling face, with her two assistants,
Dakini and Yogini, flanking her. There are also statues of the Sakta Siddhas (per-
fected beings) Vamaksepa, Ramakrsna Paramahamsa, and his wife Sarada Ma.
Behind the statues on the altar is a row of human skulls, painted red.
Daksina Kali is merciful to her devotees. Renouncers and sadhus worship more
powerful forms of Kali, called Smasana Kali (Goddess of the Burning Ground)
and Varna Kali (Kali of the Left Side, or Kali of the Forbidden). They offer her
meat and wine, flesh and blood, placed in a skull. At this temple, offerings of
meat and wine are made to Kali's assistants, Dakini and Yogini, but these are only
offered outside the temple.
The priest or purohit of this temple is Tapan Goswami, whose Vaisnava name
reflects honors shown to his ancestors. He is a practicing Sakta, who worships
Kali and meditates upon her. His practice, however, includes many older ele-
ments.
Tapan was born in small village about twenty kilometers from Bolpur, where
his grandfather was a respected temple priest and Tantric sadhu. He came from
a Sakta family.
My family's goddess in the village was Uluicandi. She came from the earth, in the
form of a stone. She was found a thousand years ago. When there was no rain in the
village, my ancestors would bathe the stone in the pond, and rain would come. They
worshiped her under a neem tree, and she had a small shrine there. She was originally
a house goddess, but then her worship was opened to the village. Later my ancestors
had a statue (murti) made, and it was immersed each year, and a new statue made.
They worshiped her every day except for the [festival] time of Kali Puja, when a
pitcher (ghat) was worshiped instead.
However, village life is primarily agricultural, and during his childhood a
drought came and brought famine. All of the crops failed. The family then moved to Bolpur, which at that time was surrounded by forests. In those days, the temple
was not easily accessible to visitors. As Tapan states:
I came to Bolpur when I was six years old, and my father began to work as the priest
of this temple. At the age of about ten or eleven years, I began to visit the temple at
night, secretly. I was kept from going there in the daytime. But I could get the keys
to the temple, and I went there at night, even though often I was afraid. 1 felt that
the Goddess looked with favor upon me.
Here, we believe that on the new-moon night, people should offer incense and
candles to the Goddess. When I opened the temple door one new moon night, I
found that many types of offerings (prasad) were there. I ate them, because I was
hungry, but then I was afraid that people would be angry at me, and I thought of
not returning. But I had such a great longing to return, that I could not stay away,
and after a few days I came back again.
He spent his childhood attracted to the Goddess but fearful of her power. One
night, when there were visitors to the temple, he saw a cake suddenly materialize,
rise in the air, and fly toward him. He took this as a sign of the Goddess's power
and her gift to him, and he became more and more curious about her.
As he grew older, he began to visit many renunciant sadhus and sannyasis,
especially those performing Tantra sadhana. He asked them many questions about
ritual practice, and about the nature of Kali. When he was twenty-one years old,
he met a sadhu who taught him about Tantra sadhana; however, he was not
initiated. He wandered to different places in West Bengal; he studied for a while
at the Ramakrishna Ashram in Suri, then spent time in a village, then attended
Vishvabharati University in Shantiniketan. During his years at Vishvabharati, he
spent his spare time doing ritual practices to the Goddess. After he graduated, he
worked in Dubrajpur, but the job did not interest him, and he spent his spare
time with the sadhus meditating on a sacred hill nearby. He left and returned to
his own village; his father taught him techniques of ritual temple worship, and
he learned to awaken the Goddess in the statue with rice and durva grass, and to
line her eyes with black eyeliner (kajal). His father told him to work at the Kali
temple in Bolpur.
His relationship with the Goddess was not an easy one. He was angry at Kali
because she allowed many difficulties and uncertainties in his life, and would not
solve his financial and family problems. However, in the end they made peace,
and the Goddess was willing to help him. He said: "When I used to do the evening
ritual, I would feel a cold wind blowing behind me, and it would extinguish the
candles. I would shiver and my hair would stand on end. I would hear the wind,
and know that there was power (sakti) in it. I felt it was the Goddess's presence."
She would visit him many times, even though he argued with her. When he
came into the temple one night with his left arm broken (due to family fighting),
the Goddess was there. Though they disagreed, his arm was miraculously healed,
and it no longer looked twisted.
His major religious teacher was his grandfather, Ratneshvara Goswami, who helped him during his childhood. He is still in awe of his grandfather's power,
and told a story about him:
An interesting incident happened many years ago. When my father was just a child,
he was very ill, and he was finally declared dead by the doctor. My grandfather took
him into the forest. There were hundreds of jackals and vultures surrounding him,
but no animal came near or tried to attack him. My grandfather went into a meditative
trance, and was full of devotion for the Goddess. After three or four days, my father
began to move, and he regained his life and his strength. The Goddess saves people
in her many forms - Durga, Kali, Tara - but it is my belief that my father was saved
by the intervention of Kali.
Tapan said that his grandfather was a powerful tantrika, who could cure people
from deadly diseases and snakebite. The grandfather had practiced Tantric rituals
alone in the mountains, and had practiced the pancamakara rituals (the five Tan-
tric "sacraments," all of which are words beginning with the letter M) with a
temporary wife. He had a guru who guided him, and he had great devotion to
the Goddess, which has continued in the family.
After his grandfather's death, Tapan continued to communicate with him. The
spirit of his grandfather would come to visit Tapan in his dreams and visions,
instructing him in ritual and relationships with the spirits. He says that his grand-
father's spirit has chosen to dwell in his favorite meditation place, his ritual seat,
which is placed over five buried skulls at the foot of a large tree in the woods
near the temple. His grandfather created this "five-skull seat" (pancamundi asana)
and spent much time there during his life. When Tapan wishes to communicate
with his grandfather's spirit, he sits on this ritual seat and meditates there.
Tapan has been possessed by his grandfather. In Indian tradition, the guru is
like a god, and being possessed by a god is a desirable situation. Tapan knows
when he is coming:
He comes to me like the wind, and I can hear the sound of his wooden shoes. Once,
I was sitting here before the Goddess, and I heard the shoes and felt the wind at my
back. It put out the candle. It was my grandfather's spirit, and he entered my body
and I felt great joy (ananda). I found myself chanting many mantras. I stayed con-
scious, and could see everything, but he was there too. He had told me that he would
come that evening. The mantras made me feel full of power, and his presence was a
powerful thing entering me. Once some people came and had cigarettes with some
drug in them, and I felt myself becoming unconscious. I called on my grandfather
for help, and he came to me and possessed me.
Visitors have been a problem: "Many people have come here and tried to meet
my grandfather in his subtle body. He was annoyed when some tantrikas wanted
spiritual powers (siddhis), and built their own pancamundi asana. There should
never be more than one at a sacred site (pitha) at a time. I speak with him often,
but he would not speak with those people."
Although Tapan was close to his grandfather, he was not as close to his own father, who only taught him formal ritual worship (puja). He had to learn spiritual
practice on his own, by studying with the various sadhus he could find, and was
never officially initiated. He learned on the road, and in his travels. He performed
Tantra sadhana in the mountains, as his grandfather had done, but after he mar-
ried and became a temple priest he limited his practice to more traditional wor-
ship, which he called Vedic sadhana. He felt that safeguarding his grandfather's
property allowed him to fulfill his grandfather's "unspoken dreams," so he left
his Tantric practices in the mountains.
I began to meditate seriously, perfecting my knowledge and ritual practice. As I did
this, I saw that I began to gain new power (sakti). I realized the power of sadhana,
and that if any person could do it properly, he could gain perfection (siddhi). But it
is difficult in daily life to balance family and spiritual practice. Families do not tend
to encourage and inspire sadhana, and neighbors don't understand it; they look down
on people who perform puja. This discourages practice. They are only interested in
the Goddess when they are sick or in need: then they will worship. Otherwise, they
stay aloof. They only want immediate gains and blessings. I think that true sadhana
can only be done in isolation, away in the mountains.
However, he did retain one one Tantric-style ritual, the feeding of skulls, as
taught to him by his grandfather. Behind the Kali statue in his temple is a long
line of bright red skulls, who are given offerings. He describes the ritual as follows:
The Goddess is normally invisible before us, but through sadhana, we can see her.
One ritual that I perform here is the feeding of skulls (mundake khdoya nao). Generally,
skulls like puffed rice, though some like fried lentils, curries, or wine. After perform-
ing a sacrifice (bali), I feed them with raw meat [in this case, "feeding" means offering
a plate of food before each skull]. The feeding is accompanied by a ritual fire (homa)
and sacrifice (yajna). After the feeding, I bathe them in ghee, yogurt, milk, and honey,
and then I arrange them for worship. Sometimes I do this when I need more mental
balance or physical strength.
Skulls are useful, because the person's soul often stays with the skull. The soul
can predict the future, and help the sadhu. People used to do the corpse ritual (sava-
sadhana) and sit on the dead body of a virgin girl. She would then become Kali, and
the body would come back to life and talk. My grandfather did sava-sadhana, but
people today are afraid of it - if you make one mistake, you die or go insane. This
sadhu in orange that you see roaming around here in the burning ground did sava-
sadhana wrongly, and he was made insane by it. But he will return to sanity one of
these days.
I feed the skulls on the altar, and they help me. I learned the skull-feeding ritual
from my grandfather. When the skulls are fed, they are pacified and they become
protectors. Then they are strong enough to fight of f the evil souls (atmas) who wish
to distract or harm the sadhu. When negative spirits (bhutas and pretas) try to disturb
the sadhu's meditation, then the good souls fight the bad souls and keep the sadhu on the right path. Sadhus often have helpers. Sometimes sava-sadhana is performed
with a woman, who is called the uttara sadhika. She has great skill (adhikari) and
helps the male through meditation if he is distracted by evil spirits. When the sadhu
draws a circle around himself to protect him from these spirits, she is within the
circle. Sometimes the sadhu may invite his guru in subtle form to watch over him
and help him.
Today, it is widely believed that there are no ghosts, but really there are souls who
do not die. They are always around us. Sometimes they may enter into our physical
bodies, and cause problems or even tragedies. It is only by sadhana, by dedication
to the Goddess, that we gain control over them. Then they can work for our benefit.
We become immune to fear, hate, and intense desire with their help. I show them
loyalty, and they guard me.
The skulls in this temple mostly come from people who died in epidemics, es-
pecially cholera epidemics. Large numbers of people used to die, and there was no
effective system of cremation at that time. Corpses would lie on the roadside or in
the forests.
Under the altar (vedi) of this temple there are 108 skulls buried. Some altars have
1,008 skulls. Skulls awaken the Goddess, and make her present here. Male gods have
stones (Silas) or lihgas [of Siva], but goddesses have skulls. Some skulls are used for
pancamundi asana [a ritual in which the practitioner sits on a seat in the midst of
five skulls, generally of different types of animals and persons]. People use the skulls
of a low-caste man, a jackal, a tiger, a snake, and a virgin girl (kumdri). They must
be young, and die suddenly by violence. Nobody wants the skulls of people who
died of disease or old age. Some tantrikas have a special relationship with the Doms
[low-caste people who traditionally burn the dead and deal with corpses] who work
in hospitals. These Doms notify them of appropriate deaths.
Tapan compares the skull-feeding ritual with the corpse ritual (sava-sadhana)
because in both cases a dead object becomes a vessel for a living presence through
ritual. The souls from the skulls are also like the Tantric consort or uttara sadhika
in that they assist in ritual practice. Although the female consort can help the
Tantric practitioner overcome the power of instinct by the use of mantra and
mudra at the correct times, the souls can help the practitioner battle evil spirits
and temptations in his meditative visions.
The Goddess is more powerful than the souls, and comes to visit and help
more rarely. Tapan calls the Goddess "Ma" (Mother).
Ma has given me many favors. I remember once at night, I dreamt of a little girl
(whom I believe was Ma) who came to help me. At that time I had little money and
was renting a very small room. The girl came to me and took me to a new house for
rent in my neighborhood. 1 awoke the next morning, and followed the path that we
had taken in the dream-vision. I saw a house that looked exactly like the one I had
seen. There did turn out to be a room for rent there, a spacious room that I could
afford. So I believe she really did help me. Once she appeared as an old woman, perhaps eighty years old, and she patted my head, which was on her lap. At that time
I was under much stress - my sadhana was not smooth, and 1 was disturbed by many
bad events, which frightened me. But Ma saved me, and she gave me her blessings.
She can also help at death, as can the guru.
The Goddess gives blessings during life, and after death she can also help. She does
not help directly, for such things are determined by karma. Those who did evil on
earth are kept in hell (patala) in the forms of jackals or snakes, and they cannot leave
immediately. If they didn't do much evil, they may move about their past family and
friends in nonphysical (aprakrta) form.
But if the person dying had a true guru, then he could act as a mediator for the
person to reach heaven (svarga) or Kailasa [the mountain abode of Siva], and Kali
can help to show the way. If one wishes to reach the kingdom of the gods and
goddesses, it is necessary to worship them.
It is difficult to describe. You see, in this world everything is both difficult and
easy. It depends upon how you approach it. If a person has a proper guide, if he is
given much instruction and experience, if his guru watches him closely, then nothing
is difficult to attain. But the qualities (gunas) inherited from previous lives are also
important. Without the proper qualities, one cannot perform sadhana. If a person
was educated in this area in his previous life, then he could guide himself automat-
ically, and would not need anybody else.
Tapan has worshiped Kali in a variety of ways.
There are many forms of Tantric sadhana. There are three major styles (bhavas): the
sattvika, rajasika and tamasika bhavas. The sattvika bhava is devotion (bhakti), and
that is the best path to follow. The tamasika bhava can give one the presence of the
Goddess, but it does not last long. It stays for a little while, and then it ceases. It is
very brief, and very fickle. Devotion lasts longer. One cannot get really close to the
Goddess without devotional love. Only bhakti justifies Tantra.
I have practiced both Vedic and Tantric sadhana. But I do not call myself a tan-
trika - I don't take liquor, bhang, ganjika [hashish] and that sort of thing. Tantra is
a dangerous path - there is much possiblity of insanity and brain damage. The Tantric
path to liberation is fast and easy (sahaja), but it always has risks. The Vedic path is
longer, but the risks are fewer. I think that the feeding of skulls is the first stage of
practice, where one learns to control ghosts and ghouls (bhutas and pretas), and one
gains immunity to snakebites, and dedication to the Goddess. Then the Goddess
comes to protect her devotee, and vision comes, as well as telepathy and the ability
to know the future.
He does not call himself a tantrika because tantrikas have a bad reputation in
West Bengal. They are popularly portrayed as madmen, perverts, cannibals, drug
addicts, and alcoholics. However, his practice does have a heavy Tantric flavor,
which he renames as Vedic and devotional. He justifies this by saying that his ultimate goal is devotional, so his practice can be called devotional. Tantra is only
a stage of worship.
Tapan has dedicated himself to his life as a priest and Sakta devotee:
I inherited this temple and burning ground, and now they are my property. I have
given my village land and shares in the lakes to my brothers. I want to fulfill the
wishes of both my father and grandfather. I have been here since 1979, for fifteen
years. Ma developed the temple, and I have been her mediator. I have also been
inspired by a woman renouncer, a sannyasini named Sangadevi, a distant relative of
Rabindranath Tagore. I will be forever obliged to her. She was a great help to me. I
hope that the temple will grow, and that more people will come to worship the
Goddess.
However, he finds it a hard life, and does not want his son to follow in his
footsteps. He wants him to work in an office in the city.
Really, sakti sadhana is becoming obsolete today because nobody teaches it. I do not
want my own son to be a Sakta sadhu. I will teach others, but I will not teach him.
I want him to work in an office. I had to go through much suffering in this practice,
and I want to spare my son. Learning about sakti sadhana is predetermined; if it is
his karma, he will learn it somehow. If it is in his blood he will do it, and find a guru
of his own. I want him to do worship, but not sadhana. It is a difficult life, and much
suffering is involved. I had only my grandfather to help me.
His comments about Tantric goddess worship (sakti sadhana) becoming obso-
lete are quite accurate, according to my observations. Very few people are willing
to admit that they even practice, let alone teach it. As families are becoming more
nuclear, the importance of the ancestors and grandparents decreases; as com-
munism and Westernization spread through the villages, traditional religious be-
liefs die away. What remains are Vedanta, traditionally the province of the higher
and more educated castes, and devotional bhakti, which is understandable to the
Christians who possess money and can provide jobs. These approaches have not
yet been subject to attack. Tapan states, "Now the atmosphere here is against
tantra sadhana, and people are afraid, because sometimes people who do ritual
practice are beaten by goondas [bullies or criminals, often hired by political
groups]. Maybe tantrikas can manage in a deserted forests or cremation grounds,
but if anybody knows about the practice, there is trouble."
It seems that these attackers harass the sadhus as part of an organized attempt
to rid West Bengal of people viewed as social parasites and troublemakers. Prac-
titioners from several areas of West Bengal have described the harassment that
they have suffered from the Communist "Anti-Superstition Clubs" in the elemen-
tary and high schools, and from other groups whose affiliations are not advertised.
However, the worship of the Goddess in Tantric style continues sub rosa: "But
people believe in Sakti, even with communism. Many Communist leaders go to
tantrikas and astrologers to find out what the results of an election will be. I have had Communists come here to this cremation ground, though they tell their
followers not to come here, that it is superstition. They tell them this because
they are afraid that the illiterate people will get power from the Goddess, and
take it away from them. They want to keep the power for themselves." Such a
situation makes him wonder about the future of Tantric practice. Tapan states: "I
think that worship of Kali will survive, but there will be fewer members. I think
that in fifty years there will be no gurus left, and the practices will all turn shal-
lower and more superficial." Tapan's own long-term goal is universal and devo-
tional: "What I want to do is stay at the beck and call of Ma, lay down before her
feet, give her offerings and serve her, and also run my family and know about
the outside world. Then my vision of her will be clear instead of fuzzy, and I can
perform service to the world."
Maintaining the older Tantric traditions in the face of hostility from the forces
of communism and Westernization is difficult for tantrikas, and many have gone
into hiding. Others have claimed to be devotees, bhaktas, or Vedic scholars, as a
way of protecting themselves from attack. Few tantrikas are wandering sadhus
today; most have some job and status and perform Tantric sadhana privately. The
Nababharata Press has published a number of Tantras in Sanskrit with Bengali
translation, so that non-Sanskritists (usually meaning non-brahmans) can practice
the rituals. There are also small Tantric circles, in which people study texts, and
other small underground groups that practice rituals.
For virtually all the tantrikas I interviewed, however, the dimension of Tantra
that focuses on the conquest of death and transcendence of this world is more
important than the sexual aspects that have been emphasized by many Western
writers on Tantra. It may be that such a focus is regional, and that West Bengal
is one of the few Tantric regions that has emphasized death and its symbolism as
the major path to the Goddess's paradise. With the focus on death rituals, it is
appropriate that the Tantric aides to transcendence are ghosts, who become help-
ers and protectors on the paths to Kali's heaven.
Research for this article comes from fieldwork in West Bengal, from 1993-1994,
on a Senior Scholar Fulbright Research Grant. The data in this biography come
from visits to the Bolpur Kali temple and to Tapan Goswami's house. The inter-
views were conducted in Bengali, as Tapan spoke no English.
Edited by alwayson
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tantric systems are the pinnacle. especially female deities. This is true of all Dharma, including Buddhadharma.

 

No, tantric systems aren' t the pinnacle.

 

In Tibetan Buddhism, Dzogchen & Mahamudra are.

 

In Vedanta, Advaita Vedanta is.

 

What are you talking about?

 

In my experience most people who like tantra WANT the tantric freakishness & weirdness.

It becomes their "identity" and their fixation/obsession.

 

"Ooooo, I can drink nectar from kapalas!!" "Oh, I can do strange things & immoral things & be o.k. because I'm a tantric."

 

Most westerners don't know what tantra is.....Forget Advaita Vedanta or Dzogchen or Mahamudra....Go, ask & see.

 

Right.

Stefos

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In Vedanta, Advaita Vedanta is.

 

Who the hell cares about Vedanta? I'm talking about Vaishavism, Saivism, Shaktism as a whole. The tantric systems of these are the pinnacle, along with their philosophical foundation in Samkhya.

 

Of course some people promote the vedantization and creation of a homogenized Hinduism/sanatana dharma, thus destroying these traditions.

 

These terms are related :

Christianity

vedantization

European orientalism

homogenization

Edited by alwayson

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It is difficult to describe. You see, in this world everything is both difficult and

easy. It depends upon how you approach it. If a person has a proper guide, if he is
given much instruction and experience, if his guru watches him closely, then nothing
is difficult to attain. But the qualities (gunas) inherited from previous lives are also
important. Without the proper qualities, one cannot perform sadhana. If a person
was educated in this area in his previous life, then he could guide himself automat-
ically, and would not need anybody else.

 

I found this part quite interesting. Overall a good article. Thanks for sharing alwayson.

 

My 2 cents, Peace

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Yea skulls are interesting. Some so called "secret societies" or frats here in America tend to have skulls of historical figures in their lodges and temples. Skulls and Bones, Yale frat, supposedly has the skull of Geronimo in their layer.

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Dzogchen and Mahamudra are tantra dude.

No man...They aren't bro.

 

There are "Tantras" which are books & then there is Tantra which is "Hindu" per se as it deals with energy flow primarily & Buddhist i.e. Vajrayana which deals with energy flow primarily

 

If you listen to Chogyal Namkhai Norbu, he says:

1. Theravada is a Hinayana vehicle, one of many

2. Vajrayana, in and of itself, deals with energy: Chakras, Nadis, Prana, Bindu....No Bhandas are used in Vajrayana

3. Dzogchen is your ultimate nature not a teaching!

 

You've made scrambled eggs out of the whole deal brotherman.

Stefos

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Who the hell cares about Vedanta? I'm talking about Vaishavism, Saivism, Shaktism as a whole. The tantric systems of these are the pinnacle, along with their philosophical foundation in Samkhya.

 

If you examine the Vedas, they point to the Upanishads.

 

The Upanishads point to Brahman, not Tantra. Realizing Brahman is liberation.

 

Why are you interested in Tantric systems? For the betterment of everyone or for power/self control for yourself exclusively?

 

This question of mine merits an answer....the right answer.

Stefos

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No man...They aren't bro.

There are "Tantras" which are books & then there is Tantra which is "Hindu" per se as it deals with energy flow primarily & Buddhist i.e. Vajrayana which deals with energy flow primarily

 

If you listen to Chogyal Namkhai Norbu, he says:

1. Theravada is a Hinayana vehicle, one of many

2. Vajrayana, in and of itself, deals with energy: Chakras, Nadis, Prana, Bindu....No Bhandas are used in Vajrayana

3. Dzogchen is your ultimate nature not a teaching!

 

You've made scrambled eggs out of the whole deal brotherman.

Stefos

 

Everyone knows Mahamudra and Dzogchen are tantra. Have you not heard of the 17 tantras?

 

There are no bandhas in Vajrayana? Have you heard of trul khor and tummo?

Edited by alwayson

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Everyone knows Mahamudra and Dzogchen are tantra. Have you not heard of the 17 tantras?

 

There are no bandhas in Vajrayana? Have you heard of trul khor and tummo?

Oops! Well, the 6 yogas of Naropa are different per se in that they are not the "traditional" Vajrayana of visualizing Vajrasattva & such. This much is true.

 

Besides, Bandhas were first used in "Hindu" circles not Buddhist! (Mohenjo Daro seals show this as fact)

 

Dzogchen, according to Chogyal Namkhai Norbu, is NOT a teaching but your real nature.

 

You are not right on about this.

 

I don't know about Mahamudra only that Mahamudra IS our state too. A Tibetan Lama told me this.

Edited by stefos

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Why are you interested in tantric systems such as Dzogchen?

Dzogchen is our nature, not a book called a "Tantra" nor a Tantric system.

 

CNN stated this over & over again. Knock it off.

 

My reason for getting involved in Dzogchen was by reading the teachings which came through J. Krishnamurti.

Choiceless Awareness (same as Self Liberation)

Emptiness (same as "Buddhist" emptiness)

No self = the self being a construct of thought (similar to Buddhist concept of self but not quite)

 

Krishnamurti never denied God. He said in "The first & last freedom" "It would be foolish to deny God."

His definition of God was very different however.

 

Goodbye

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If you examine the Vedas, they point to the Upanishads.

 

The Upanishads point to Brahman, not Tantra.

 

But why should tantric Saivas, for example, adhere to Vedas and Upanishads in the first place?

Edited by alwayson

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But why should tantric Saivas, for example, adhere to Vedas and Upanishads in the first place?

Wrong dude to ask brotherman........Ask the Saivas themselves!

 

Perhaps the tantras along with yogic postures date into pre-Buddhist times & have a link to the Vedas/Upanishads?

 

I don't know what that "link" would be by the way.

 

I don't know!

Stefos

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