After the Darkness, Light

It’s the dark half of the year and seasonal depression is kicking my ass. I could try to fight it but I know I would ultimately lose, so why not just go with the flow? Since I’m in a dark mood, I’ve decided to look at some of the darker aspects of the Goddess and work on dishes to honor them.

We shall begin with Kali, a goddess to whom I have long felt a closeness. Kali, whose name means “black”, is the Hindu goddess of time and change. She has often been looked upon as violent and bloody, and this concept of a goddess of annihilation still carries some influence. However, she is also viewed as a redeemer of the universe, and some new devotees look upon her as a benevolent mother goddess. In reality she is all of these. She is the beginning and the end, the creatrix and the destroyer, the one who births you and the one who removes you from this life.

Kali is the consort of Shiva, upon whose body she is often depicted standing. Kali, in her role of destroyer, became drunk from drinking the blood of the dead and found it impossible to stop her dance of destruction. Mythology tells us that Shiva lay down in front of her in an attempt to stop her. Another version states that Shiva was but an infant when he is sent onto the battlefield to stop her. She ceases her rampage and picks up the infant Shiva to comfort and nurse him. This is Kali in her mother goddess aspect, as aspect which is not as widely recognized in the Western world.

The lesson she has for us is similar to that of other dark goddesses: life cannot exist without death. If we are to accept her blessings in life, we most also face the terrors of the grave. This is an easy concept to pay lip service to, but when you really start thinking about it, or are actually faced with the prospect of meeting Her in death, it becomes quite different. I believe those who truly struggle with certain ailments – mental as well as physical- are closer to this reality than they would like to acknowledge. Suddenly the thought of the cycle of birth, death and rebirth is not so comforting. It becomes a rather frightening concept, or at least one that causes nervousness, discomfort, and worry.

What are we to do, then? We cannot avoid death. Our end is just as inevitable as it has been for everyone else who has walked upon this planet. I think it best to accept the fact that all of us must meet the same fate, but that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily going to happen anytime soon.

When I get into one of these dark, introspective moods and over think my own mortality, I find it best to do something to get my mind off things. I hit the kitchen. That’s what kitchen witches do, is it not? In the kitchen I am more at ease and am able to release some of my anxiety and some of my thoughts of the cold lonely grave and embrace life and joy through cooking.




When I want to open myself up to Kali, to receive any wisdom she wishes to pass my way, I cook up some Indian food. One of my favorite dishes is rajma masala, which is full of ingredients that are ruled by the element of fire. Fire is a good representation of Kali, as it an element that can destroy and purify at the same time.

*Note: Followers of Jainism and Vaishnavism , as well as devotees of Krishna, do not use onions and garlic. Instead, they use asafetida. As far as I know, Kali has no problem with onions and garlic.

Rajma Masala

2 cups kidney beans, soaked over night
Water
1-2 bay leaves
1-2 onions, finely chopped
1 tablespoon each finely chopped/grated ginger
1-2 tablespoons finely minced garlic 1
½ teaspoon turmeric powder
½ teaspoon asafetida powder, optional
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
2 teaspoons red chili powder
2 large tomatoes, finely chopped, or one small can
1 teaspoon cumin powder
1 teaspoon garam masala
2 tablespoons ground coriander
3 tablespoons vegetable or canola oil
Finely chopped cilantro/coriander leaves for garnish

Cook the kidney beans until they are soft. Some recipes recommend a pressure cooker but most people don’t have these. You’re more than welcome to use canned kidney beans, which most people can get. They’re safer. If you’re using canned beans, use two large cans.

Heat the oil in a heavy skillet. Add the cumin seeds and let them sputter for a minute. Add the bay leaves, asafetida (if using), garlic and ginger. Stir-fry so the garlic doesn’t burn. Add the onions and fry until lightly golden. Add the rest of the spices except the garam masala. Add the tomatoes. Fry for 5-6 more minutes.
Add the beans and either a ladleful or two of the cooking water, or a 2 cups of regular water. Add salt to taste. Simmer for about 15 minutes.

Add the garam masala last. Cover and turn the heat to low. Let the dish simmer on low heat for another 5 minutes. Garnish with the fresh cilantro leaves. Serve with Basmati rice.

Offer some of this with a prayer of thanks for life. Offer up your apprehensions regarding mortality and ask for a deeper understanding of the cycle. Breathe in the aroma of garlic, onion, and chili and visualize the dish’s ingredients warming you and revitalizing you.

Light flame-colored candles and decorate the table with marigolds or other golden flowers. Share this meal with your loved ones and know that this darkness will pass.

Suggested music
George Harrison: All Things Must Pass
Traditional Indian music
http://www.raaga.com/channels/sanskrit/moviedetail.asp?mid=S0000025