Book Review: S. Beena Unnikrishnan’s ‘Whispers of the Unseen’ Celebrates the Sacred Feminine

Sometimes what is not perceived in the business-as-usual patterns becomes accessible in another way. It is perhaps apt that the title of a book on a personal pilgrimage of discovery and connection to the 64 Yoginis is a synaesthesia—Whispers of the Unseen. And it is apt that the book documents the author S. Beena Unnikrishnan’s journey not so much as a pilgrimage on the road as it is inwards—in a room, in her own home, through the intimate medium of paint.

The book tells us that in the great war against Mahishasura, eight demi-divine beings called Ashta Matrikas emerged from the body of Goddess Durga. From each Matrika, a further eight yoginis sprung forth, making for a total of chausath yogini (64 Yoginis).

Dr Bibek Debroy writes in the foreword that there aren’t many written texts on the yoginis and secrecy shrouds the practice. This makes the author’s work remarkable. The book is not a technical treatise; it dwells on the author’s evolving relationship with the Divine Feminine through the painting of the Yoginis.

Bhakti-based pathway

The pathway is not rule-based; instead, it is bhakti-based. The sequence of the paintings follows a reference list but the author deviates, at times, for a different Goddess to show up on the canvas. The forms are also not always true to the original sculptures in the Hirapur Chausath Yogini temple. It is as she sensed the Goddess. A Yogini Kumari becomes the beloved Bala Tripura Sundari, the nine-year-old divine daughter of Sri Lalitha Tripura Sundari. A Yogini Kamayani becomes Trishna, the daughter of Kama Deva, and Yogini Vikatana transforms as Goddess Katyayani.

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The book documents each painting as a meditative process—noticing the emotions and sensations stirring in the body, the changing nature of the spiritual relationship and the insights that emerge. In The Sacred Podcast, Dr Iain Gilchrist, eminent neuroscientist and author of The Master and his Emissary, says that the sacred is what “speaks to us of something beyond that is powerfully rich, beautiful, good. And draws us forward in life by its attractive force.” The book is a testimony on how an ongoing transcendental relationship can re-form and widen existing perceptions of our world.

It is also interesting that like the Puranas, neither the origin stories of the Yoginis nor the numbers are held tightly. There is always an ambivalence, an inherent complexity in the stories. The book describes a public event where an ancient scholar, Bhaskara Raya, is tested for believing there are 640 crore yoginis instead of 64 Yoginis. The book also mentions a visit to the Bhedaghat Yogini temple near River Narmada in Madhya Pradesh which enshrines 81 yoginis instead of the usual 64.

Similarly, origin stories of each yogini are not unique. The story of Yogini Vinayaki is around Devi Parvati, Shiva’s consort, being kidnapped by demon Andaka. Andaka has a blessing that he will be reborn from every drop of his blood. In response, the female aspects of every god emerge, and together, they drink Andaka’s blood before it touches the ground. This story is similar to the familiar legend of demon Raktabeeja whose name means “One whose blood drop seeds new life”. In that story, Kali drinks the blood to prevent rebirth.

To the modern mind, that craves certainty, the chaos may feel confusing. Yet this is exactly how the book succeeds in taking the readers beyond the edges of cold fragmented data to the larger principles of mycelial continuity across time.

The descriptions of the 64 yoginis disrupt the stereotypical notions of the feminine. Some of the yoginis are clearly maternal, caring, and sensual. However, at initial glance, many are not. Yogini Chinnamasta has a decapitated form, dancing atop a copulating couple. The book describes that the blood spurting from her body feeds the hungry ladies-in-waiting. Yogini Narasimhi has the head of a lioness and is described as having enormous strength. Yogini Vikatanana is intimidating. And then there is young Sribala who is experienced by the author as a daughter. The book illustrates how these energy expressions are contextually appropriate and care for the well-being of the world.

The book also highlights visits to many temples, some of which are clearly dedicated to the 64 yoginis. Some temples inadvertently reveal the Shakti. It also describes the making of a documentary film on the same subject. The painting process and narratives of these other journeys read as an unbroken chain of reflection of the author’s changing relationship with the Divine Feminine.

Ardhanareeshwara, the integration of the masculine and feminine aspects of being, is the repeating stitch of the embroidery of this book. It is at once the author’s own struggle as it is an evolving understanding of the concept. In one section, the author shares with JJ, the director of the documentary, about the rigorous practice of Srividya Sadhana. That it culminates in the experience of unity of Shiva and Shakti. In response, JJ asks, “Don’t you think your journey is nothing but Srividya?” And in that sense, this book is a document of a different approach of Srividya through bhakti and art.

A conversation with Time

The book also reflects on the notion of Time. In one chapter, the author describes the documentary as her conversation with Time. She shares that, for her, Bhairava, represents Time. Through the book, we find the anchoring place of Bhairava in initiating and sustaining the journey. Given that Kali and Bhairavi are the feminine versions of Time, the book appears to be an interpretation of the author’s stochastic relationship with the Yoginis. She is called to this project through a set of unforeseen events; she stumble-discovers her way through the project—sometimes being on the road, sometimes staying in silence for days in her room. Each turn is an intersection of the wild-unpredictable of the cosmos with the regular-steady of life. And in that sense, ardhanareeshwara becomes a dance of different forms of time.

The content of the book is laid out in tight chronological order, which prevents a reader from choosing to read at random. In one sense, this ensures due respect for the tradition and events in which this pilgrimage is ensconced. In another, the book evolves with the chronological reading.

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The constant foregrounding of the author’s thoughts can be a distraction and could have been balanced with vivid environmental descriptions. For example, a description of the rooms in which the Yoginis were painted would have been lovely.

In an oral tradition, there is an ecology within which narratives of miracle and magic are held with care. Audiences join into such narratives through shared contexts. The relationship of Krishnan Potti and the author’s family influenced the events that led to the Yogini project. A printed book, however, shows up in the market shorn of those relationships. It is imperative to find other ways for the readers to be in a relationship of integrity with the content.

The personal pilgrimage recounted in the book is founded on bhakti—a calling from beyond to stay the path. Not a tick mark on a bucket list. One hopes that the call will also reach the readers.

Bhavana Nissima is a Lightweaver.