Mohini

Background

Mohini is the only female avatar of the Hindu god Vishnu. She is portrayed as a ”femme fatale”, an enchantress, who maddens lovers, sometimes leading them to their doom. Mohini is introduced into the Hindu mythology in the narrative epic of the Mahabharata. Here, she appears as a form of Vishnu, acquires the pot of Amrita (an elixir of immortality) from the thieving asuras (demons), and gives it back to the devas (gods), helping them retain their immortality. Later, she joins the ranks of the apsaras, the celestial nymphs of Indraprastha.

It is also theorized that Mohini is a form invoked by the goddess Shakti, who expressed herself through Vishnu’s consort, Sri. She demolished the asuras bodily and solved the problem to her satisfaction.

Many different legends tell of her various exploits and marriages, including union with Shiva. These tales relate, among other things, the birth of the god Shasta and the destruction of Bhasmasura, the ash-demon. Mohini’s main modus operandi is to trick or beguile those she encounters. She is worshipped throughout Indian culture, but mainly in Western India, where temples are devoted to her depicted as Mahalasa, the consort of Khandoba, a regional avatar of Shiva.

Appearances and Legends

The Amrita

The earliest reference to a Mohini-type goddess appears in the Samudra manthan episode of the 5th century BCE Hindu epic Mahabharata. The Amrita, or nectar of immortality, is produced by the churning of the Ocean of Milk. The Devas and the Asuras fight over its possession. The Asuras contrive to keep the Amrita for themselves, angering the Devas. Vishnu, wise to their plan, assumes the form of Mohini, a ravishingly enchanting damsel. She uses her power to allure, and then force the Asuras into giving her the Amrita, and then distributes it amongst the Devas. Rahu, an Asura, disguises himself as a god and tries to drink some Amrita himself. She catches him in the act and punishes him.

Bhasmasura

Mohini also has an active history in the destruction of demons at various times. In the Vishnu Purana, Mohini defeats Bhasmasura, the “ash-demon”. Bhasmasura invokes the god Shiva by performing severe penances. Shiva, pleased with Bhasmasura, grants him the power to turn anyone into ashes by touching their head. The demon decides to try the power on Shiva himself. Shiva runs terrified. Vishnu, witnessing the unfortunate turn of events, transforms into Mohini and charms Bhasmasura. Bhasmasura is so taken by Mohini that he asks her to marry him. Mohini agrees, but only on the condition that Bhasmasura follows her move for move in a dance. In the course of the dance, she lures Bhasmasura to her clutch and then forces his hand on him own self.

Relationship with Shiva

After Mohini deceives the demons by her irresistible form, Shiva sees her, becomes awestruck, and runs crazily behind her. Shiva is overcome by lust, and his seed falls on the ground creating ores of silver and gold. Shiva Purana says that by the mere glimpse of Mohini, Shiva spurts out his seed. The seed was collected and poured into the ear of Anjani, who gave birth to Hanuman, the incarnation of Shiva. The latter is retold in the Thai and Malaysian version of the Ramayana, too. Though Hanuman strings from Shiva’s seed, he is also considered as a combined son of Vishnu and Shiva. Another variant says that instead of a biological origin, Ayyappa sprang from Shiva’s semen, which he ejaculated upon embracing Mohini. Ayyappa is referred to as Hariharaputra, “the son of Vishnu (Hari) and Shiva (Hara)”, and grows up to be a great hero.

The rare instance where an “explicit, male homosexual act” is suggested is in a Telugu text where when Shiva is busy lovemaking with Mohini-Vishnu, the latter returns to his original form and still the lovemaking continues.

Another legend from the Linga Purana says that the embracing of love-struck Shiva and Mohini led to be their merging into one body. At this moment, Mohini became Vishnu again, resulting the composite deity Harihara, whose right side of the body is Shiva and left side is Vishnu in his male form. In the temple in Sankarnayinarkovil near Kalugumalai is one of the rarest exceptions to iconography of Harihara (Sankara-Narayana). The deity is depicted similar to the Ardhanari, the composite form of Shiva-Parvati, where right side of the body is the male Shiva and left side is female. This image’s female side represents Mohini and it, as a whole, symbolizes the union of Shiva and Mohini.

Conquest of Brahma

In the Brahma Vaivarta Purana, Mohini tries to seduce the creator-god Brahma. While doing so, she says, “A man who refuses to make love to a woman tortured by desire is a eunuch. Whether a man is ascetic or amorous, he must not spurn a woman who approaches him, or he will go to Hell. Come now and make love to me.” He argues that he is like her father, and thus, too old for Mohini. Mohini then reminds him that he had already committed incest with his daughter, and Brahma is left conquered.

Tales

The Winning of the Amrita

In the first Yuga, or age, which goes by the name of Satya Yuga, the Universe was populated on three planes. There were the Devas, the benign and generally benevolent godlike beings in the plane called Swargalok (Heaven). The Asuras were powerful nature-beings who dwelt in Patala (Underworld). These two races occupied different celestial planes that coexisted with the mortal plane that was populated by the Manavas, or mortal men.

The devas and the asuras were mostly at loggerheads. Indra, the immortal leader (through successive rebirths) of the devas, was a proud and fearsome warrior. But the asuras also had some great kings and warriors, some who were just and virtuous. Asura kings like Bali and Mahishasur were reknowned warriors and learned men. They even defeated and ruled all three planes of existence in their time.

The asuras were a proud race, hungry for power; this feature of theirs was to be their doom. In their quest for power and glory, they antagonised the holy trinity, losing their favour. In contrast, the devas remained devoted to justice and righteousness (mostly), which in the long term, worked out in their favour.

This story is about the event called the “Samudra Manthan”, which literally translates to ‘churning of the ocean’. This event is significant in Hindu Mythology, as it can be considered a key point wherein the balance of power shifted radically towards the devas. The event is also metaphorically likened to the rising of Kundalini, the spiritual energy that resides at the base of the spine.

The story begins with a curse that made the devas lose their strength, energy and fortune. This gave the asuras the upper hand, and under king Bali, they defeated the devas. Aggrieved, they went to Vishnu, the supreme one.

Acknowledging the fact that the assures were upsetting the order of things, Vishnu advised the devas to perform the ritual called Samudra Manthan – a colossal churning of the oceans that would throw out unique treasures, as well as Amrita, the nectar of immortality. It was this nectar which would restore the devas, and give them immortality as well.

The manthan, or churning, was an enterprise that would require not just the devas, but the asuras as well. It was decided to let the asuras in on the secret. In their quest for power, the asuras decided to cooperate with the devas. And thus began the massive enterprise.

For the churning, the peak of Mount Meru, the tallest one on earth, was chosen. The divine serpent Vasuki agreed to be the rope that would wind around the mountain peak and would alternately be tugged from the head by the asuras and the tail by the devas.

To prevent the peak from sinking, Vishnu himself took on the form of a turtle, and supported the mountain below the sea.

The churning began in great earnest. And the sea frothed and foamed. Great things big and small were created from the froth – divine animals, brilliant gems, supremely libidinous dancing maidens (apsaras), unique flora… Evil things, like Halahala, a deadly poison that threatened to destroy all life (until Shiva swallowed it). Then arose a beautiful lady called Sri, the embodiment of fortune. She chose Vishnu as her consort.

Finally, out came Amrit, enclosed in a pot of gold. The asuras saw the Amrit come out first. They let go of the snake, unbalancing the devas as they pulled on an unsupported end. They grabbed the Amrit, their greedy hands snatching the pot from one another.

The devas protested. Taking up arms, they rushed at the asuras. Weakened by the curse of Durvasa, they were easily defeated. Heady with the prospect of immortality, the asuras dispersed the deva host.

Dismayed, the devas prayed to Vishnu. But he was unmoving. Power was literally in the hands of the asuras. The fate of the universe was in the balance. That’s when Sri took hold of destiny by the scruff, and changed fate.

She appeared at the edge of the asura camp, where the preparations had been made to open the pot of amrit and distribute it. She walked towards them, in the form of Mohini.

Wrapped in a few yards of gossamer thin silk that highlighted and accentuated her every curve. The only other things she had on were a nose ring and anklets.

The asuras were worshippers on nature’s might. Aggression came to them naturally. Their women folk too were spirited and lusty. Mohini came to them as the ultimate asurini.

Her movements were graceful, catlike. Each step she took towards them was firm and deliberate. Each step made her anklets sing the song of desire. And her hips swayed in tune. Each step was deliberate, made to highlight the thickening of the thighs. Each arching of the foot made her calves bulge like conch shells. Her arms swung by her side, each arm perfectly formed, with smooth velvety skin showing the hint of powerful muscles that were coiled and ready. She came towards them with her intention clear. She was there to seduce them, take them for bodily pleasures, and ravish them with her beauty and power.

A swarthy, aggressive soldier snarled and lunged at her. Mohini’s kick was so powerful that it threw the grunt thirty yards, where it landed, broken, dead.

A powerfully built ogre lumbered towards her. One hand was clawing at the drawstrings of his undercloth, his intentions quite clear. Mohini just smiled at him, beckoned him on with her finger. As he reached out to grab her, she caught his wrist and wrung it hard. The crack of the wrist made the giant collapse to his knees. Mohini squeezed. The giant’s wrist was at an odd angle. Spittle flew from his mouth as he begged her to release him. Mohini reached out to his face and rubbed his cheek. The giant asura’s eyes glazed over with devotion. He was her slave.

A third asura dared to catch her from the back. But her slave smashed him in the face and drove him back. After that, none of the asuras dared to come close.

Mohini walked into the midst of the asura leaders. “I come here to claim your hero. I come here to make him my slave. Tell me, who is worthy enough to be a slave to my feet? Who amongst you is it, who will grovel at my feet? Who will drink this sweet nectar with me, and live with me forever, forever my slave?”

Almost instantly, there was clamour. Strife broke out as they all screamed and ran towards her. The surging mass of asuras climbed over each other, pulling down those in front of them, crushing to death those who fell. Each legion of rushing asuras was torn down and trampled by the mass behind them.

Mohini laughed. Her laughter was like divine music. She stretched her arms in amusement. Each limb striated with corded muscle. The heavenly display of female power was driving the asuras insane.

Playfully, Mohini jingled her anklets. She raised her right foot and swayed it rapidly. The sound of the anklets drove the horde mad with lust. To each asura, the one nearest him was like a mortal enemy. They clawed, bit, and scratched each other, moving on only after the winner had stamped the loser into the earth.

Mohini turned sideways and extended her left foot back, putting her toes on the ground. Her exposed calf bulged up like a gourd. She controlled the muscle exquisitely, making it move up and down, jangling it so that it shook and suddenly went taut, and so on.

The asuras were animals now. Bloodlust and mad hatred for each other made them murder family and friend alike. The asura camp overflowed with blood and gore. Such was the clamour that the devas wondered from afar.

In a short while, the asura camp had been decimated. Only a few remained, even these were howling and trying to crawl towards Mohini with whatever was left of their bodies. Mohini’s giant slave too had been killed. Crazed asuras had torn him apart limb to limb, with their bare hands.

Mohini sang a song, a sweet lilting melody of a flower in its prime, a flower waiting for its honeybee. The sweet lullaby was her victory song, a celebration of the female’s power over the male, of beauty and power in harmony.

Mohini walked over to the amrit and picked up the big pot. Resting it on her hip, she gracefully walked towards the deva’s camp.

Now it so happened that a powerful asura called Rahu had not been a part of the Samudra Manthan, for he was not a typical asura. He was more given to study than to warfare. He was the asura with the most knowledge of ‘Maya’, the art of illusion.

Rahu had been distracted by that haunting lullaby and drawn to the asura camp. When he saw the annihilation, he swore revenge. Using his knowledge of the dark arts, he transformed himself into a deva, so completely that apart from his looks, even his smell changed.

Rahu made his way into the deva palace. The devas were celebrating the arrival of amrit to their palace. Mohini was serving amrit with a ladle to the devas, who had all lined up to her. True to her nature, the devas were crawling to her on their hands and knees. Their eyes were moist with devotion for the celestially beautiful and powerful maiden who had single handedly vanquished their foe.

Indra, the king of the devas, had tried to grab Mohini’s calf in his hands. Mohini had let him hold on to her rock hard muscle admire the feel of feminine power. And then suddenly she had brought her calf together with her thigh, clamping his hands there. A shocked Indra tried to free his arms, but just couldn’t budge is hands. Mohini laughed at the plight of the king of the devas. She applied more pressure, making Indra scream in pain. The court of the devas laughed at the humiliation of its king.

“From now on, your prestige will diminish. Not quickly, but slowly. People will forget you, stop respecting you. You will fade into history. Your place will now be below my feet.” She raised her foot and placed it on his head. Indra’s head slumped under the weight of her foot. “Know your place, slave.” She said.

Rahu placed himself in the long line of devas who waiting to relish the divine nectar. His magic was strong, blessed as it was by Brahma, one of the trinity. No one came to know that it was not a deva, but an asura who was about to achieve immortality.

Mohini saw Rahu and smiled. As his mouth opened to receive the amrit, she leaned towards him and said, “Rahu, you don’t deceive me.” Rahu’s illusion shattered at that very moment. His power fled at the mere suggestion made by her.

Nevertheless, a few drops of the nectar spilled into his mouth. AS his tongue relished the taste and began to swallow the amrit, Mohini grabbed him by the throat. Her fingers were like Vajra, the indestructible metal. They squeezed his neck like a sponge. So strong was her grip that it crushed his Adam’s apple and choked off his airway. Rahu struggled to pry her fingers off his neck.

Mohini turned Rahu’s head to the side and squeezed his neck even more. The nectar that was in his mouth spilled out. She squeezed even harder, causing Rahu’s lower body to go in a spasm. Finally, she broke his neck with her fingers, and threw his carcass across the hall.

“Amrit shall go to the devas, and the devas only.”

She forced Indra to lick up the amrit spilled on the floor.

“Not a drop will be wasted.”

The Ash Demon

The degeneration of asuras continued down time. By nature, the asuras were greedy for power. This is the tale of an asura who by dint of penance and intellectual prowess, gained great power. And how that power went to his head. Literally.

History remembers him as Bhasmasur – the asur of ashes. He was a great and wise Asura king, renowned for his intellect and determination. He was, like all othe great asura kings, hungry for power. Too hungry, in fact.

After establishing his empire, he wanted to become the most powerful being in the universe. So he prayed to Shiva, one of the trinity of supreme gods. He prayed continuously for many years, without interruption, and Siva was moved by his devotion.

He granted this devoted asura any wish. To which Bhasmasura immediately asked for immortality. Recalling the follies of gods who had granted near immortality to his predecessors, Shiva refused. He explained to him that immortality could not be granted to anyone, since it was not something given to mortals.

Dismayed, Bhasmasura begged Shiva. He cajoled, pleaded, but to no avail. That was the moment when Bhasmasura felt discontent and dislllusionment. He instinctively began to hate the lord to whom he had devoted many years of single-minded worship. Gritting his teeth, he asked Siva for the ability to reduce to ashes anyone he touches on the head. The ascetic lord absent-mindedly granted the boon.

Bhasmasura’s eyes flashed. He asked Shiva if the boon really works, to which Shiva asked him to try it out. Bhasmasura then smiled and came towards Shiva, his hand extended towards Shiva’s head.

Being blessed by Shiva, the boon would be extremely effective. Not even Shiva had a counter to it. It came as a shock to realise that his own devotee was now attempting to finish him off… Shiva recoiled and fled the place. But Bhasmasur was determination personified. Wherever Shiva went, Bhasmasur followed. There was no place on any plane, mortal or astral, that Bhasmasur wasn’t able to follow Shiva into. It seemed that the trinity would be reduced to a duality, The fundamental balance of the universe was in balance.

Hassled, harried and hurt, Siva rushed to Vishnu the creator. The lord lay with his eyes closed, a smile on his face. “That should teach him to not go granting boons without thinking of the consequences” Vishnu thought. Shiva implored him, asked him for his help, to no avail. But Sri was there, and Parvati, Shiva’s wife, was her good friend.

So she stepped away from Vishnu, and told Shiva that she would save him. Incredulous, Shiva only gaped at her. But for a god at the verge of annihilation, he was willing to accept any help. He went down on his knees and paid obeisance to her.

Sri transformed herself to Mohini, the eternally beautiful woman. Before hope transformed into lust in Shiva’s eyes, she left.

Bhasmasura had passed through the land of snow. Piles of ash marked his trail, the ashes of man and animal touched by him. Mohini watched as Bhasmasura made his way towards her.

She took a brief dip in the ice cold water of the lake, and came out like a radiant angel. Her long hair tracing her fine facial features. The wet silk cloth barely hid her strong and virile body. The round shoulders and sinewy arms dripping with water and animal appeal in equal measure. The impressive fullness of her bosom was accentuated by her panther grace.

As she slowly came out of the water, her narrow waist and full hips swayed and thrusted. The power and intention in them could not be denied. As she put her leg on the stones of the bank, her thighs swelled to indicate the thick and dense musculature underneath the thin fabric. Her bulbous calves seemed to absorb rays of the sun and glow with power and beauty.

Bhasmasura’s march through the snowy land was halted by this ethereal apparition coming out of the water. He ran towards her, and asked her who she was. She said that she was an apsara of the lake. Aroused by the sight of this comely maiden with the strong thighs and calves like marble, Bhasmasura asked her to marry him.

Mohini laughed. She told him that she would only marry someone who could keep pace with her dance. Bhasmasur agreed to that, and decided to dance with her.

Seven days and nights they danced. Many dance forms, the most exotic Naga dances as well as fertility rituals from Misr’. They tried it all, but Bhasmasura would not fall prey to the trap Mohini was laying for her.

So after the week was gone, Mohini said “You are truly a great dancer.. You movements are so fluid… I feel you are fit for the act. Come to me, Bhasmasur… I will take you for my lover now.” But Bhasmasur had now become weak from the seven days of rapture he had undergone – Mohini’s dance had shown him infinite possibilities. He was completely enamoured with her. So he told her that he was exhausted and wanted to rest.

Mohini came to Bhasmasura. She taunted him: “Is the king of asuras going to admit defeat to a nymph of the lake? One who stood in front of Shiva for years, now can’t stand before a woman?”

Bhasmasura went on his knees: “O mighty nymph of the lake! Do make love to me, I have stood and meditated in Shiva’ name for years. Do not deprive me of my pleasure.

Mohini laughed. This time she put her leg on Bhasmasur’s chest and pushed him away. Unable to take the humiliation, he rushed at Mohini, intending to ravage her and plunge his seed into her womb.

Mohini moved to her left and tripped the rushing Bhasmasura. The asura fell heavily on his chest. Mohini put her right foot on his back, and pressed. Unable to breathe properly due to the weight of the foot, he wheezed. Mohini smiled and pressed her foot hard. Bhasmasur felt as if a banyan tree had been planted on his back. Mohini kept varying the pressure, the indicator of which was the size of the bulge of her calf. The massive pressure made Bhasmasur go deeper into the soft earth. Mohini was burying him alive.

As he lapsed into unconsciousness, Mohini picked up his limp left arm and pulled it up. She twisted his arm around until the joint ruptured.

She pulled up Bhasmasur by the hair on his head, She held him up, so that his dangling legs signified his helplessness and her total victory.

“Now, Bhasmasur, it is time for you to pay. For showing disrespect to Shiva. For using your powers wantonly.

So saying, Mohini caught him by his right wrist. Slowly, inexorably, she turned his fist towards his head. With the other hand, she pried open the fingers. The effort made them both sweat. The fine sheen of sweat made both her arms radiant with power. Her corded muscles could be seen, twisting his hand towards it’s doom. She had gripped legs between hers, so that he could not thrash about.

Slowly, inexorably, she defeated the strength of Bhasmasura. As his hand moved towards his head, Bhasmasura realised the futility of the fight. He realised that he was being subjugated by the most sexy woman in the universe, and that there was no shame in dying in front of her. He smiled as his hand made contact. The eyes glazed over as red hot cracks opened all over his face, and in a puff of ash and brimstone, he was released from the trials and tribulations of birth and death.

The ash coated her lower legs, the dark shade a stark contrast against the glowing white skin that showed in patches on her bulging calves. The ash highlighted the contours of the massive bulging muscle that undulated with power as she slowly walked away.

From behind a rock, Shiva had been watching the battle with fascination. Aroused by her might and appeal, he couldn’t resist his natural impulses, and spilled his seed there.

The Shiva devotees come to pray here every year even today, at the Lingam of Shiva that rises with the coming of winter. They say the lingam rises due to freezing of water in the season. Others like to believe it happens whenever Shiva remembers that terrific battle between the wild asura and the most mighty Mohini.

Traditions and Customs

In Goa, Mohini is worshipped as Mahalasa or Mahalasa Narayani. She is the Kuladevi (family goddess) of many Hindus from western and southern India, including Goud Saraswat Brahmins, Karhade Brahmins, Daivajnas and Bhandaris. The chief temple of Mahalasa Narayani is at Mardol, Goa, though her temples also exist in the states of Karnataka, Kerala, Maharashtra, and Gujarat. Mahalasa has four hands, carrying a Trishula, a sword, a severed head, and a drinking bowl. She stands on a prostrate man or demon, as a tiger or lion licks blood dripping from the severed head. Goud Saraswat Brahmins as well as Vaishnavas from Goa and South Canara identify her with Mohini and call her Narayani and Rahu-matthani, the slayer of Rahu, as told in the Bhavishya Purana.

Mahalasa is also called Mhalsa, the consort of Khandoba, a local incarnation of Shiva. As the consort of Khandoba, her chief temple – the Mohiniraj temple – is located at Nevasa, where she is worshiped as a four-armed goddess and identified with Mohini. Mhalsa is often depicted with two arms and accompanying Khandoba on his horse or standing besides him.

The central icon of the Jaganmohini-Kesava Swany temple at Ryali, discovered buried underground by the king in the 11th century, represents the male Vishnu in the front, while the back of the icon is the female Jagan-Mohini (“one who deludes the world”) or Mohini, with a female hairdo and figure. A Sthala Purana tells that the flower in Mohini’s hair fell at Ryali (“fall” in Telugu) when Mohini was being chased by Shiva.

Mohini has an important, dramatic role in several mythical works of South Indian drama like Yakshagana and Kathakali. In Kerala, however, where Mohini’s son Ayyappa is popular, the Mohiniattam (“the dance of Mohini”) is honored as an independent dance form. Named after the goddess, it is a dance meant exclusively for women and “an ideal example of the erotic form.” The origins of Mohiniattam form are unknown, though it was popularized in the 1850s, but later banned as it was used by courtesans to attract customers. The ban was lifted in 1950, after which it has seen a renewal.

The legends of Mohini are also being depicted in other dances, including the modern Kathak. The Sonal Nati, performed in the Saho area of Chamba district, Himachal Pradesh, retells the Mohini-Bhasmasura tale, and hence is known as the Mohini-Bhasmasura dance. It is performed on festive occasions, especially in the Saho fair held in Baisakh in the precincts of the Chandershekhar temple.