Maa Adya The One Mother with Infinite Faces

Maa Adya. The First. The Formless Form.

Sarva Shakti Swaroopa, Sarva Devamayi Tanuh —

She who is the embodiment of all Shaktis, the essence of all Devas.

Not one among many, but the One from whom the many emerge.

Why then, so many forms?

Why does she appear sometimes as two-armed, sometimes as eight-armed?

Why as Annapoorna in Kashi, and as Bhadrakali in Lanka?

Is it just mood? Or mere mythology?

No.

Each of her forms arises from necessity —

From the needs of the moment,

From the bhava of her devotee,

From the cosmic lila she herself scripts.

As the Adya Stava proclaims:

“Upāsakaṁ kāryārthaṁ śreyase jagatām api”

She manifests to fulfill the aim of her devotee — and for the welfare of the world.

The sadhak’s love, the rishi’s tapas, the deva’s cry —

These are not just invocations.

They are invitations.

And Maa responds — not impersonally,

But intimately, with a form tailored to the moment.

That’s why:

• She came as Katyayani, daughter to a sage.

• She rose as Durga, built from the weapons and will of the gods.

• She danced as Mahakali, when time itself had to be devoured.

Every time duality tips the scale,

Every time the cosmic Vajra shakes,

Every time dharma flickers in the storm,

She rises — again and again — not the same, yet always Her.

“Tvam Jagat Janani Śive”

You are the Mother of the Universe, the auspicious One.

“Chaturbhuja tvam, Dvibhuja, Ashtabhuja tathā… Nāna Śastra Dhāriṇī”

You are four-armed, two-armed, eight-armed — holding countless weapons to protect this world.

So what are all these forms? Just costumes?

No. They’re expressions.

They are reflections of her Svarūpa, glimpsed through the mirror of the devotee’s need.

When my Dearest Guruji said

“why spent lifetimes on forms, go to the source instead of the forms”

that was my PHAT moment…

The confusion melted. The strands tied together.

And I saw it:

Only one Mother. Infinite Leelas.

Just like…

• In Brahmaloka, she is Devi Brahmani.

• In Vaikuntha, she is Sarvamangala.

• In Amaravati, she is Indrani.

• In Manidwipa, she is Surasa.

• In Kashi, she is Annapoorna.

• In Nilaparvata, she is Kamakhya.

• In Setubandha, she is Rameshwari.

• In Bangadesha, she is Kalika.

• And in my heart, she is simply Maa.

One Mother.

Different names based on the places she blesses, the leelas she enacts, the roles she chooses.

But she’s never divided.

And here’s the essence that finally brought peace:

I don’t need to calculate which form to approach.

I don’t need to map which goddess suits which wish.

I go to the Source. The Adya. The One.

The One who, knowing my inner state better than I ever will,

Will choose how to appear — what form to wear, what weapon to wield,

What rasa to embody — for my upliftment, for my evolution, for my healing.

This isn’t philosophy. It’s love.

It’s the innocent joy of a Bāla,

singing praises of his Mother, not to decode Her,

but to feel Her presence — again, and again, and again.

So I offer this realisation as my garland:

“Nirākārā’pi Sākārā… Kaḥ tvām veditum arhati?”

Formless though You are, yet You take form.

Who can truly know You?

I don’t want to “know” Her anymore.

I just want to love Her,

in every form she chooses to bless me with —

or in no form at all.

Jai Maa Adya — the Source of all, the One behind every name, every form, every cry, and every answer.

Ekameva. AnantaRoopini.

Jai GuruDeva

Jai Sri Swarnakarshana Bhairava

Jai Maa Adya MahaKaali - MahaKala Bhairava Sadhana By Praveen Radhakrishnan