In the heartland of ancient Bharatavarsha, where sacred rivers trace silver paths through emerald fields and the murmur of sages still lingers in the wind, lies Draksharamam—a realm where history breathes and the Divine Feminine radiates her timeless presence. This is no ordinary shrine. It is one of the revered Ashtadasa Shaktipeethas, sanctified by the fall of Sati’s left cheek during the cataclysmic dispersal of her body. From that cosmic grief arose Manikyamba, the Jewel-Hearted One—a Shakti whose very name gleams like a ruby, promising rebirth and resilience to all who approach her.
Shri Manikyamba Jai Manikyamba
The Pulse of a Living Goddess
Manikyamba is not a relic of scripture bound to the past—she is a living current of Shakti, vibrant and unceasing. Her presence infuses the very air of Draksharamam, turning the temple into a spiritual vortex. Here, devotion is not an act but an atmosphere; the stones seem to hum with her memory, the corridors breathe her grace.
Her shrine rests quietly in the northeast corner of the grand Bhimeswara temple—a position that carries esoteric weight. Her gaze is turned slightly to the left, marking her as a Vamachara Devata—a goddess whose path embraces the shadow, the unconventional, and the transformative. In her silence, she speaks to those parts of ourselves we seldom dare to face.
Facets of a Jewel
Like a gem that reveals new glimmers with every turn, Manikyamba’s stories are many.
One legend tells of a Brahmin widow who, to honor her deceased daughter, crafted a golden idol. Over time, the idol began to radiate life, adorned with manikyas—precious gems—earning her the name Manikyamba. Another tradition links her to Menaka Devi, wife of Himavan, placing her origin in the celestial lineage.
Yet perhaps the most stirring account is found in the 14th-century poet Srinatha’s Bhimakhandam: Manikyamba was the daughter of a courtesan, her devotion to Lord Bhimeswara so pure and steadfast that she was accepted as his consort. In this tale, she becomes the Kula Devata of the vesya community—not as a symbol of stigma, but as a beacon of dignity, strength, and spiritual sovereignty. Her light emerges precisely from the margins, making her the goddess of the outcast and the wounded soul.
Flame in the Ashes
The ground on which her temple stands is said to have been scorched by the fire of Daksha’s yagna, where Sati immolated herself in protest. Out of that ash-laden soil arose a sanctuary of renewal. Manikyamba is rebirth itself—not in abstraction, but as lived truth. She is the seed that sprouts after the forest burns, the morning that follows a night without stars.
To stand before her is to feel both seen and stripped bare. Her gaze turns towards the forgotten wounds, the unspoken griefs, the abandoned parts of self. She asks not for perfection but for presence. And in that presence, she performs her alchemy—turning endings into beginnings.
A Temple That Holds Time
The Draksharamam temple was begun under the Eastern Chalukya king Bhima in the 9th century and completed over generations, incorporating Chola elegance into its Chalukyan foundation. The complex bears hundreds of inscriptions in Sanskrit and Telugu, making its walls a living chronicle. The towering Shiva Lingam—2.6 meters of crystalline stone—catches the first rays of dawn, as though the sun itself bows to this sacred place.
Beneath Manikyamba’s idol rests a Sri Chakra, said to have been consecrated by Adi Shankaracharya, anchoring her in the tantric geometry of cosmic order. This is not just architecture; it is invocation in stone.
The Waters of Renewal
To the east lies the Sapta Godavari pushkarini, a sacred tank formed, legend says, by the Saptarishis carrying waters from seven holy rivers. Before entering the goddess’s sanctum, devotees bathe here—not merely as ritual purification but as a symbolic shedding of the old self. The river becomes a mirror, reflecting the readiness to be remade in Manikyamba’s flame.
Why She Matters Today
In a world that worships light but shuns the dark, Manikyamba’s presence is a revelation. She reminds us that wholeness is born not by denying the shadow, but by walking through it. She is the goddess of survivors, of those who rise from the rubble, of the soul that finds beauty in its own fractures.
Her chant—Shri Manikyamba Jai Manikyamba—is more than syllables. It is the heartbeat of renewal, the courage to face the ashes and kindle a new fire. To speak it is to align oneself with her rhythm: enduring, radiant, and free.
The Jewel-Hearted Flame
Manikyamba’s essence can be felt in the smallest moments—lamp-light flickering in the sanctum, the soft rustle of devotees’ footsteps, the quiet after an offering is placed at her feet. She is not only the goddess of rebirth—she is the assurance that no loss is final, that within every ending lies the pulse of a new beginning.
Whether you visit her in the deep stone womb of Draksharamam or in the inner temple of your own heart, her gift remains the same: a call to rise, to shine, to endure, and to love without fear.
Shri Manikyamba Jai Manikyamba