Dhyāna

The meditation verses

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Ranjani – Gayatri

सिन्दूरारुण विग्रहां त्रिनयनां माणिक्यमौलि स्फुरत्

sindūrāruṇa vigrahāṃ trinayanāṃ māṇikyamauli sphurat

तारा नायक शेखरां स्मितमुखीमापीनवक्षोरुहाम्

tārā nāyaka śekharāṃ smitamukhīmāpīnavakṣoruhām

पाणिभ्यामलिपूर्णरत्नचषकं रक्तोत्पलं बिभ्रतीं

pāṇibhyāmalipūrṇaratnacaṣakaṃ raktotpalaṃ bibhratīṃ

सौम्यां रत्न घटस्थ रक्तचरणां ध्यायेत् परामम्बिकाम्

saumyāṃ ratna ghaṭastha raktacaraṇāṃ dhyāyet parāmambikām

अरुणां करुणातरङ्गिताक्षीं धृतपाशाङ्कुशपुष्पबाणचापाम्

aruṇāṃ karuṇātaraṅgitākṣīṃ dhṛtapāśāṅkuśapuṣpabāṇacāpām

अणिमादिभिरावृतां मयूखैरहमित्येव विभावये भवानीम्

aṇimādibhirāvṛtāṃ mayūkhairahamityeva vibhāvaye bhavānīm

ध्यायेत् पद्मासनस्थां विकसितवदनां पद्मपत्रायताक्षीं

dhyāyet padmāsanasthāṃ vikasitavadanāṃ padmapatrāyatākṣīṃ

हेमाभां पीतवस्त्रां करकलितलसद्धेमपद्मां वराङ्गीम्

hemābhāṃ pītavastrāṃ karakalitalasaddhemapadmāṃ varāṅgīm

सर्वालङ्कारयुक्तां सतत मभयदां भक्तनम्रां भवानीं

sarvālaṅkārayuktāṃ satata mabhayadāṃ bhaktanamrāṃ bhavānīṃ

श्रीविद्यां शान्तमूर्तिं सकलसुरनुतां सर्व सम्पत्प्रदात्रीम्

śrīvidyāṃ śāntamūrtiṃ sakalasuranutāṃ sarva sampatpradātrīm

सकुङ्कुमविलेपनामलिकचुम्बिकस्तूरिकां

sakuṅkumavilepanāmalikacumbikastūrikāṃ

समन्दहसितेक्षणां सशरचापपाशाङ्कुशाम्

samandahasitekṣaṇāṃ saśaracāpapāśāṅkuśām

अशेषजनमोहिनीं अरुणमाल्यभूषाम्बरां

aśeṣajanamohinīṃ aruṇamālyabhūṣāmbarāṃ

जपाकुसुमभासुरां जपविधौ स्मराम्यम्बिकाम्

japākusumabhāsurāṃ japavidhau smarāmyambikām

Tap any word to inspect its meaning, grammar, and syllables.

Artha

Meaning

Four separate meditation verses stand between the ritual preparation and the first of the thousand names, and they are not one picture but four. The first sets her before the eye as a woman the colour of vermilion, three-eyed, a ruby crown flashing above her and the lord of stars — the moon — in her hair, a jewelled goblet in one hand and a red lotus in the other, her reddened feet resting on a jewelled vessel; a gentle form, and the only one of the four that puts no weapon in her hands. The second exchanges cup and lotus for the noose, the goad, the flower-arrow and the bow, rings her about with the eight powers beginning with aṇimā as though they were rays thrown off her own body, and then closes the distance between the one meditating and the one meditated upon: I contemplate Bhavānī as nothing other than "I". The third seats her on a lotus, gold in colour and robed in yellow, a golden lotus shining in her hand, and calls her outright Śrīvidyā — the mantra herself wearing a body. The fourth is the shortest and the most concrete: this is the form to hold at the moment of counting the mantra, saffron-smeared, musk on the forehead, faintly smiling, red from garland to garment, bright as the hibiscus flower. Read in order the four move outward from an image held at arm's length, through an identity assumed, and back down into the plain act of sitting and reciting.

Itihāsa

History and background

These verses are not part of the thousand names and were not composed by whoever composed the stotra. They belong to the ritual apparatus that grew up around it, and the recension this site follows preserves that apparatus intact. Before the dhyāna comes the nyāsa, which declares the credentials of what is about to be recited: the seers of this great mantra are the Vāgdevatās headed by Vaśinī, the metre is anuṣṭubh, the deity is Śrī Lalitā Parameśvarī. Then the syllables aiṃ, klīṃ and sauḥ are placed on the fingers and on six points of the body. Then these four dhyāna verses. Then a five-fold offering in which each element of the world is given to her by its seed-syllable — laṃ for earth as scent, haṃ for space as flower, yaṃ for air as incense, raṃ for fire as lamp, vaṃ for the nectar-principle as food. Only after all of that does the manuscript say, plainly: "and then let him do the recitation." The dhyāna is the hinge. Everything before it prepares a body; everything after it is speech.

The three seed-syllables of that nyāsa are worth pausing over, because they are the three segments of the fifteen-syllabled mantra of this tradition. The nyāsa names them as such: the vāgbhava segment is called the bīja, the middle segment the śakti, the third segment the kīlaka or pin. So the reciter is being told, in code, that the sahasranāma is an unfolding of the pañcadaśākṣarī — that the thousand names are that mantra written out at length. This is the single most important background fact about the text, and it is stated before the first name is spoken.

The four verses themselves come from different places and do not agree with one another. Editions differ over how many to print and in what order; some manuals give one, some three, some five. The first, in the long śārdūlavikrīḍita metre, is close to the standard visualisation of Tripurasundarī found in tantric worship manuals, where she is soft, seated, and holds a cup rather than a weapon. The second is by far the most quoted, and is often chanted alone. The third is the only one that names her as Śrīvidyā outright. The fourth announces its own occasion in its last words: japa-vidhau smarāmi, "at the time of japa I call to mind."

Three of the four insist on red. Sindūra, aruṇa, the japā blossom, kuṅkuma, an aruṇa garland, aruṇa ornaments, aruṇa cloth. This is not decoration. In Śrīvidyā red is the colour of icchā, of desire understood as the first stirring by which anything at all comes to be, and of rajas taken as creative urgency rather than as agitation. The stotra's own third verse will make the point at cosmic scale: her red radiance rises like a flood until the world-eggs float submerged in it. Set this against Sarasvatī's white and Kālī's black and you have located this goddess precisely.

The last thing the dhyāna does is the most radical. Having built an image with great care, the second verse dissolves the arrangement in three words: aham ity eva vibhāvaye — I contemplate her as simply "I". The verb vibhāvaye is not "I worship" or "I see"; it is "I bring into being by imagining". The tradition is telling you, before the stotra begins, that the thousand names are not a description of somebody else. Every name you are about to say is in the third person and none of them is.

Sambandha

Related passages

Saundaryalaharī 7

क्वणत्काञ्चीदामा करिकलभकुम्भस्तननता परिक्षीणा मध्ये परिणतशरच्चन्द्रवदना । धनुर्बाणान्पाशं सृणिमपि दधाना करतलैः पुरस्तादास्तां नः पुरमथितुराहोपुरुषिका ॥

kvaṇatkāñcīdāmā karikalabhakumbhastananatā parikṣīṇā madhye pariṇataśaraccandravadanā | dhanurbāṇānpāśaṃ sṛṇimapi dadhānā karatalaiḥ purastādāstāṃ naḥ puramathiturāhopuruṣikā ||

Her girdle of bells softly sounding, bowed a little under breasts like the brow-swells of a young elephant, slender at the waist, her face the autumn moon come to the full; bearing bow, arrows, noose and goad in her four palms — may she who is the very self-assertion of the destroyer of the three cities stand here before us.

The oldest and most famous parallel to the second and fourth dhyāna verses: the same four objects in the same four hands. Śaṅkara's poem also gives the theological reading in a single word — she is Śiva's āhopuruṣikā, his own sense of himself as an agent, which is exactly why the stotra can call her both mother and empress without contradiction.

Saundaryalaharī 8

सुधासिन्धोर्मध्ये सुरविटपिवाटीपरिवृते मणिद्वीपे नीपोपवनवति चिन्तामणिगृहे । शिवाकारे मञ्चे परमशिवपर्यङ्कनिलयां भजन्ति त्वां धन्याः कतिचन चिदानन्दलहरीम् ॥

sudhāsindhormadhye suraviṭapivāṭīparivṛte maṇidvīpe nīpopavanavati cintāmaṇigṛhe | śivākāre mañce paramaśivaparyaṅkanilayāṃ bhajanti tvāṃ dhanyāḥ katicana cidānandalaharīm ||

In the middle of an ocean of nectar, on an island of gems ringed with groves of the wishing-tree and planted with kadamba, in a house built of wish-granting stone, on a couch whose frame is Śiva and whose bedding is Śiva himself — a fortunate few worship you there, wave upon wave of consciousness and bliss.

The dhyāna verses describe her body but not where she is sitting. This supplies the setting the tradition assumes: the island of gems in the sea of nectar, which is the same Śrīpura that Agastya says he has already been told about in the frame narrative of this stotra.

Saundaryalaharī 48

अहः सूते सव्यं तव नयनमर्कात्मकतया त्रियामां वामं ते सृजति रजनीनायकतया । तृतीया ते दृष्टिर्दरदलितहेमाम्बुजरुचिः समाधत्ते सन्ध्यां दिवसनिशयोरन्तरचरीम् ॥

ahaḥ sūte savyaṃ tava nayanamarkātmakatayā triyāmāṃ vāmaṃ te sṛjati rajanīnāyakatayā | tṛtīyā te dṛṣṭirdaradalitahemāmbujaruciḥ samādhatte sandhyāṃ divasaniśayorantaracarīm ||

Your right eye, being of the nature of the sun, gives birth to the day; your left, being lord of the night, brings forth the three watches of darkness; and your third glance, coloured like a golden lotus just beginning to open, composes the twilight that walks between day and night.

Explains the epithet trinayanāṃ in the first dhyāna verse. The three eyes are not an ornament borrowed from Śiva but a statement about time: her looking is what divides day from night, and the third eye is the seam between them.

Sādhanā

For practice

Each of the four verses is in a different metre, and knowing which one you are in tells you where to breathe. The first is śārdūlavikrīḍita, nineteen syllables to the line with the break after the twelfth: sindūrāruṇavigrahāṃ trinayanāṃ | māṇikyamaulisphurat. The second alternates eleven-syllable and twelve-syllable lines in the aupacchandasika pattern, which is why it feels lighter and quicker than the others. The third is sragdharā, twenty-one syllables in three even groups of seven: dhyāyet padmāsanasthāṃ | vikasitavadanāṃ | padmapatrāyatākṣīṃ. The fourth is pṛthvī, seventeen syllables with the pause after the eighth — which in this verse falls inside a word, sakuṅkumavilepa|nāmalikacumbikastūrikāṃ, so hear the pause without opening a gap in the sound.

The single most useful drill in the whole set is in the first line. Sindūrāruṇa has a retroflex ṇ: the tongue-tip curls back and strikes the hard palate. Trinayanāṃ, immediately after, has three dental n sounds: the tongue-tip goes forward to the back of the upper teeth. The two are only a few syllables apart and most English speakers flatten both into one sound. Run the line slowly until you can hear the difference, and the rest of the stotra becomes much easier, because this contrast recurs on almost every page — karuṇā, caraṇa, aruṇa and bāṇa all take ṇ, while nāyaka, vadana and bhavānī keep n.

The three sibilants are the other trap, and the first verse gives you all of them within a few words: śekharāṃ has the palatal ś, vakṣoruhām has the retroflex ṣ inside the kṣ cluster, and saumyāṃ, smitamukhīm and sphurat have the plain dental s. Note also that sphurat is s plus an aspirated ph, not an English f; let the p and the breath be heard separately.

Grammatically these verses are one sentence each, and hearing that keeps you from stopping in the wrong place. The long chain of words ending in -āṃ and -īṃ are all accusatives, and they are all governed by a single verb that arrives late: dhyāyet in the first and third verses, vibhāvaye in the second, smarāmi in the fourth. Nothing is complete until that verb lands. Carry the whole chain of epithets forward on one arc of attention and release it only at parāmambikām, bhavānīm, sampatpradātrīm and ambikām respectively.

One small delight to listen for in the fourth verse: japākusuma, the hibiscus flower, and japavidhau, the rite of recitation. Long ā in the flower, short a in the rite. The poet has put the two side by side deliberately, so that the flower you are visualising and the act you are performing sound like the same word. Keep the vowel lengths clean and the pun stays audible.

In practice most reciters use one of these before beginning and not all four. If you are learning, the second verse is the one to memorise first: it is short, it names the four weapons that the stotra's next two verses will explain, and it ends with the line that tells you what kind of attention the whole recitation asks for.

Ādhāra

Sources and further study