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The Tibetan word
'lama' invariably conjures up a masculine
image. A detailed consideration of its
etymology however, paints a different
and ironical picture. The first syllable
'la' means superior, while the second
'ma' is the word for mother and as a
suffix denotes the feminine nature of
a word in the Tibetan language. Practitioners
confirm that the 'ma' in lama refers
to the mother, and that the explanation
for this title is that the lama is viewed
as the highest form of motherhood. In
the universally acknowledged Tibetan-English
dictionary by Chandra Das, the word
lama is literally interpreted as 'soul
mother,' or the all-sustaining mother
of the universe, a Tibetan saying quoted
in the same place states that "previous
to the lama, even the name of the Buddha
did not exist."
If anything this
small detail makes us aware of the extreme
significance Buddhist thought places
on the feminine. This is in contrast
to the popular imagination, which emphasizes
the dominance of the male element, pointing
as evidence to the preponderance of
male icons in the Buddhist pantheon.
Undoubtedly, the bulk of Buddhist art
consists of typically masculine imagery,
and that too of a serene and calm kind.
But different from this general iconographical
attribute, there exist a genre of important
goddesses who display a violent dynamism
rarely visible elsewhere in Buddhist
aesthetics. In universal parlance they
are referred to as Dakinis or Yoginis,
and encompass a dazzling array of female
imagery.

The word dakini is
translated as women who dance in the
sky or interpretable as women who revel
in the freedom of emptiness. Hence invariably
their bodies are depicted curved in
sinuous dance poses.

Iconographic representations
tend to show the dakini as a young,
naked figure in a dancing posture, often
holding a skull cup filled with menstrual
blood or the elixir of life in one hand,
and a curved knife in the other. She
may wear a garland of human skulls,
with a trident staff leaning against
her shoulder. Her hair is usually wild
and hanging down her back, and her face
often wrathful in expression, as she
dances on top of a corpse, which represents
her complete mastery over ego and ignorance.
Practitioners often claim to hear the
clacking of her bone adornments as the
dakinis indulge in their vigorous movement.
Indeed these unrestrained damsels appear
to revel in freedom of every kind.
Contemplation
of the dakini icon makes one conscious
that their essential trait is dynamism.
As with all Buddhist imagery this too
has to be interpreted in an allegorical
manner. The vigorous restlessness of
the dakini is nothing but the cyclical
and rhythmic vibrancy of Mother Nature
herself. According to Iris Stewart,
noted scholar of feminine spirituality
"The rhythms that make up a woman's
body are the same rhythms that make
up the dance of the Universe; when we
feel the two as one, we know we are
a part of nature." As the seasons change,
as the cosmos vibrates with resounding
resonance, giving rise to the energetic
and active intensity that characterizes
the harmonies making up our existence,
so does a woman, the quintessential
microcosm of the creative aspect of
the universe, rejuvenate herself through
her monthly cycle of periods.
It is in the same
context that the dakini carries in her
hands the skull cup full of menstrual
fluids. Often this cup is raised to
the level of her mouth, as if she intends
to partake it.
This realization
shocks us into the awareness of the
severity of the dakini's message, namely
that of negating the archaic customs
which deem this female fluid as polluting
and taboo. The curved knife she holds
in the other hand is for annihilating
these very restrictive customs. What
should be an eternal reminder of the
identification of the feminine with
the divine, through bodily processes
which are but natural to her, have been
relegated to a degraded status. Thus
the wrath of this primordial female
figure must be grasped and understood
not as a retribution which inspires
fear and submission, but as a powerful
and constructive force, a facilitator
for change and understanding.

Buddhism is a positive
religion, if ever there was one. Though
the graphic symbolism of the dakini
jolts us into a comprehension of the
spiritual superiority of women, nevertheless
an important element of dakini iconography
subtly reminds us of the presence of
the masculine in her composite buildup.
The tantric shaft, known in Tibetan
as the khatvanga, which she very conveniently
tucks under one of her arms, is a symbol
of masculinity.
Thus the message
is brought across that nature is complete
when male and female essences co-exist,
each is incomplete without the other.
None of the two is an island. An existence
striving to live in resonance with the
harmonies of nature must accept this
fact, and bring about the necessary
transformations required, if they do
not already exist, to achieve this wholeness.
The preferred language
of Tantric Buddhist scriptures is either
Sanskrit or Tibetan, both well known
and accessible. A particular class of
texts said to have emanated from the
dakinis were however guarded with great
secrecy. Written warnings on the texts
ensured that access to these kinds of
teachings should be limited only to
those able to understand their meaning
and to maintain the required degree
of discretion concerning their contents.
In fact, texts said to have been revealed
by dakinis, were believed to be written
in the 'dakini spirit,' a kind of secret
language, and these texts highly prized
for their esoteric nature.
This language was
referred to as the twilight language.
Now twilight is a threshold symbol,
the ambivalent region between one state
and another. Thus we can be sure that
associating such a language with the
dakinis was done with a deeper motive.
A majority of scholars believe that
the use of such a mystical and secret
language is parallel to the identification
of women with the unknown in nature,
and her body as a metaphor for the mysteries
of the world. They see woman as the
vessel of primary creative and spiritual
powers. For the revelation of this enigma
man must 'penetrate' into its innermost
essence. In other words, read the truth
written on the female body.
A profound application
of these principles is found in the
texts written in the twilight language
and consisting of only a single syllable.
Such texts could be grasped by practitioners
only through the good offices of a guru
trained in the lineage of that particular
tradition. The secret of the text was
transferred from the guru's mouth to
the disciple's ear. Essentially, the
notion was of a symbolic language, whose
musical sound could not only be heard
mystically by advanced meditators, but
whose elaborate meaning could be condensed
into a single and mystical hieroglyph.
The Guru himself was believed to have
received the sacred texts through the
whispered voices of the dakini, known
popularly as the Dakini's warm breath.
The question here
remains of the nature of this mysterious
and sacred language. The whole concept
of a kind of language which is associated
in this way with the sacred feminine,
and which is both symbolic and indecipherable
in conventional terms is open to a number
of interpretations. A logical and coherent
initiative is that of scholar June Campbell
who suggests that this language is one
which a child experiences inside the
womb. Modern research has shown that
sound, and especially the mother's voice,
plays a very important part in the development
of a child. There is a link too between
the experience of sound which the baby
has, not only in the womb, but also
in its first year of life, through the
closeness to the mother's actual heart,
where the sound of the heartbeat is
reminiscent of the sound of the drum,
an instrument closely associated with
the dakini. Campbell at the same place
asserts that beyond our individual experience
as men and women, there exists a unitary
experience of humanity which does not
take into account sexuality. We are
in this primordial state while we float
in the mother's womb, and it is only
after our psychic separation from the
mother are we initiated into the world
of duality. This state in other words
is the twilight state.
Indeed the actual
physiology of a woman's body allows
for a very real kind of invasion of
her distinct physical boundaries, or
the penetration of her mysteries, through
intercourse, pregnancy and breast-feeding.
These three physical functions give
a woman a unique experience of the paradoxical
relationship between subject and object.
Through these three archetypal acts
of intimacy she dissolves the very dualities
of object and subject. Two lovers engaged
in the ultimate union or the mother
tending to her child are the ultimate
acts of fusion. Similar is the question
of her secret language often composed
of only a single syllable as mentioned
above. In this language there exists
no duality. Linguistic duality is essentially
composed of word and its meaning. By
restricting her sacred language to a
single syllable the dakini annihilates
with one quick masterstroke the whole
ambiguity inherent in conventional languages.
This is similar to the dissertation
which suggests that the first alphabet
of the Rig Veda, the world's most ancient
text, contains within itself the combined
spirituality of the whole corpus of
Vedic literature.
The
language of the dakinis help us escape
the paralyzing discourse of dualities,
and recognize the fundamental principle
of the unity of all entities. In this
manner does the dakini makes us relate
to her physical presence, through a
grounding in her bodily functions, which
serve to annihilate boundaries and elude
the ordinary constraints of gender.
This is why she often carries the tantric
shaft with her. Though she is female,
her femininity is definable only in
relation to the male, as his masculinity
is prescribable only in her context.
Having enlightened
us thus the dakini nevertheless continues
her vigorous dance in the void or emptiness
characterized by the sky. While doing
so her hands spread out, engaged in
various incessant and peppy dance gestures.
Doing so she maps out her own space
and domain, and carves out her own sacred
mandala. Thus asserting that though
she confirms her identification with
the male of the species she is not be
taken for granted nor imposed upon,
the blazing fires behind her ever ready
to consume the enemies of the Dharma.
References and Further Reading
- Campbell,
June. Traveller in Space (In Search
of Female Identity in Tibetan Buddhism):
London, 1996.
- Cooper,
J.C. An Illustrated Encyclopedia of
Traditional Symbols: London, 1979.
- Das,
Chandra. A Tibetan-English Dictionary,
Kyoto, 1981.
- Rawson,
Philip. Sacred Tibet: London 1991.
- Shaw, Miranda.
Passionate Enlightenment (Women in
Tantric Buddhism): New Delhi, 1998.
- Stewart,
Iris J. Sacred Woman, Sacred Dance:
Vermont, 2000.
- Tresidder,
Jack. The Hutchinson Dictionary of
Symbols: Oxford, 1997.
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