In the lush green folds of Goa’s interior, far from the beachside bustle and echo of waves, lies a sanctum where time slows and silence speaks—the temple of Shri Mhalsa Narayani in Mardol. This is not merely a shrine; it is a portal into layered myth, deep devotion, and the fierce-yet-tender presence of a goddess who is as enigmatic as she is transformative.
Shri Mhalsa Narayani Jai Mhalsa Narayani.
A Name Etched in Spirit and Time
To utter her name—Mhalsa Narayani—is to call upon a lineage of mysticism stretching across Vaishnava, Shaiva, and Shakta traditions. “Mhalsa,” a localized, affectionate form, grounds her in folk devotion. “Narayani,” on the other hand, places her amidst the celestial hierarchy as the consort of Narayana (Vishnu), the Divine Sustainer.
But Mhalsa Narayani is not bound by one lineage. She is Mohini, Vishnu’s beguiling form who distributed the nectar of immortality. She is also Parvati, reborn as the divine warrior-queen destined to wed Khandoba, a fierce form of Shiva. And in esoteric Tantric lore, she is Rahu-matthani—the slayer of Rahu, devourer of delusion.
This goddess does not belong to one tradition. She weaves them together, becoming a living archetype of shakti that is transcendent yet rooted, serene yet sovereign.
The Temple at Mardol: Where Earth and Ether Meet
The Shri Mahalasa Narayani Temple, situated in the village of Mardol in Ponda taluka, is the most revered abode of the goddess—especially among the Goud Saraswat Brahmins and devotees of coastal and southern India. Originally located in Verna, her idol was rescued and relocated during the Portuguese destruction of Hindu shrines in the 16th century.
Today, the temple complex radiates quiet magnificence. Sloped red-tiled roofs, arched corridors, and an immense deepstambha (lamp tower) create an atmosphere where form and spirit dance in harmony. The towering lamp, when lit with hundreds of oil flames during festivals, becomes a pillar of awakened energy, symbolizing the ascent of kundalini—the coiled serpent of inner power.
The sanctum sanctorum houses the exquisitely carved idol of Mhalsa Narayani. She has four arms, holding a trishula (trident), sword, a severed head, and a kapala (bowl). Fierce yet serene, she stands not as a punisher but as a revealer—one who slices through ignorance and illusion to reveal the inner truth.
Adding to her mystique is the yajnopavita, or sacred thread, worn across her torso—a symbol traditionally reserved for male deities and Brahmins. In Mhalsa’s case, it is a declaration: she transcends gender, role, and form.
Whispers of the Serpent and the Lotus
While not always depicted explicitly, the serpent symbolism surrounding Mhalsa Narayani runs deep. In Indian spirituality, serpents are guardians of thresholds, wisdom-holders, and representations of the Kundalini Shakti—the latent spiritual energy coiled at the base of the spine.
Mhalsa is often seen as the awakened form of that energy—the serpent who has risen, uncoiled, and become conscious. The severed head she holds is not mere iconography—it is the ego, the mask, the illusion. Her bowl is the elixir of clarity one drinks after illusion dies.
And then there is the lotus, quietly woven into her lore. It grows in mud yet remains untouched—symbolizing spiritual emergence. The serpent and the lotus together speak of transformation: from base to bliss, from darkness to divine.
Rituals, Revelations, and the Temple’s Living Pulse
The Mardol temple is not a relic—it is a living organism. Devotion here breathes through ritual, story, architecture, and silence.
Every Sunday, the goddess is taken in a palakhi (palanquin) procession, accompanied by bells, chants, and deeply felt devotion. During Magha Jatra and Navaratri, the temple becomes a sanctuary of light, rhythm, and cosmic order.
The temple’s giant brass bell—once used by devotees to affirm their truth—is said to have such spiritual gravitas that Portuguese courts recognized its testimony. Its deep resonance still echoes through the valley as a call to clarity.
There is also the Pushkarni, a serene water tank where sky and stone meet. Reflecting the sanctum above and the cosmos beyond, this tank is more than decorative—it is a mirror, just like Mhalsa herself.
Beyond Form: Mhalsa Narayani as Threshold Guardian
To stand before Mhalsa Narayani is to confront a question: What are you clinging to?
She is not merely a giver of boons—she is a dismantler of masks. The severed head she holds is yours, mine—everyone’s ego awaiting surrender. Her sword is not bloodied from war, but sharp with discernment. Her drinking bowl contains not wine, but the nectar of wisdom earned through transformation.
She is called Mohini, but she does not deceive. She enchants to reveal, not to bind.
As the threshold guardian, she stands between the seeker and the Self. You cannot pass without seeing who you truly are.
A Modern Pilgrim's Inner Mirror
In today’s fractured world of distractions and surface-level spirituality, Mhalsa Narayani offers a deep, unshakable presence. She doesn’t whisper empty comforts—she stands with you through your reckoning. She calls you to awaken, shed old skins, and rise in clarity, dignity, and spiritual sovereignty.
To chant her name—
Shri Mhalsa Narayani Jai Mhalsa Narayani—
is not a ritual.
It is a return.
A return to the part of you that cannot be deceived. A return to the sacred inner flame that knows, sees, and dares to become whole.
Next Chapter: Forest & Tribal Forms of Shakti
After sharing a few personal experiences with grassroots goddesses—whose shrines I was fortunate to visit and who left an indelible mark on my spirit—I now open the next chapter of Invoking Shakti.
This upcoming section will explore the raw, untamed power of Forest & Tribal forms of Shakti. These are not merely deities, but wild, living energies that echo through sacred groves, village borders, and ancestral memories. Unlike the temple goddesses draped in silk and adorned in gold, these forms walk barefoot—smelling of earth, wrapped in neem leaves, turmeric, or the smoke of forest fires. They are fierce, protective, nurturing, and utterly primal.
Interestingly, not all of them came to me through pilgrimage. Some found me through folk songs, local legends, media, and oral traditions. What began as curiosity soon transformed into deep reverence.
This space will also be open for guest posts—because Shakti does not arrive in one form or one language. She reaches us all differently, and sometimes, it is in the forgotten corners of culture that we feel her most vividly.