NARASIMHA — MAA ĀDYĀ’S SON

NARASIMHA — MAA ĀDYĀ’S SON

Maa Ādyā is not a Devi among others. She is the root. The cause. The will before form. Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Śiva — they come after. Creation, sustenance, and destruction — all begin because She begins.

In the Purāṇas, it’s written plainly: karāṅguli-nakhotpanna-nārāyaṇa-daśākṛtiḥ. The ten avatāras of Nārāyaṇa came from the tips of Her nails. Not from his tapas, not from his sankalpa — from Her fingers. So when Viṣṇu became Narasimha, it wasn’t his choice. It was Her move. Not an avatāra. A correction.

The world crossed the line. The gods watched helplessly. The child prayed. Then came the scream that split the three worlds. Not from heaven. Not from hell. From the pillar. There, Maa Ādyā unleashed Her son.

She didn’t borrow a form. She didn’t delegate. She manifested as Narasimhikā — the force behind the force. Not supporting him — being him. She who is the Śakti of the ferocious half-human, half-lion. She who is the manifestation of intelligence in a human being and courage of a lion. On a subtler level, She is the intelligence and the fierceness required by a sādhaka to embark on the destruction of ego. She is that Shakti which, when invoked, employs both clarity and strength to pierce illusion. She is fierce. She is heroic. She is the fire that moves through Narasimha.

And when that fire burned beyond its purpose, and even the gods could not stand before him, She returned again. Not from elsewhere — from within the same fire. Because what they called Narasimha’s rage was Her presence all along. She brought that fire back. Not gently — completely. That is why in Her Sahasranāma, She is remembered as Śarabhiḥ, the one who restores even the fiercest force when Dharma has been served. The one who is the Śakti of the Sharabha avatāra. The one who is the cosmic rage of protection. The one who keeps even the most powerful divine beings in check. The one who cannot be quelled in the quest of Dharma. The one who brings Narasimha Bhagavān into the form that can now be worshipped by the devotees. Hence the name: Śarabhiḥ.

In other traditions, it is said that the one who calmed Narasimha was not Sharabha, but Pratyangira. But to those who know, there is no contradiction. Whether as Sharabhiḥ or as Pratyangira — it is all Her. One force. One presence. One Mother moving through the necessary form.

Only the one who lit the flame knows when to take it back.

This is the core people avoid. She doesn’t act with emotion. She acts with precision. Because She is Sarvaśakti Svarūpiṇī — not a container of all power, but the actual embodiment of every force the cosmos has ever seen. Even Narasimha was Her extension — nothing more.

And still, She wears the name Śmaśāna Kālī. The one who resides where form dies. The one who doesn’t emerge from duality, but watches it end. The one who was there before anything began and remains when all dissolves. She is not the witness of death — She is the reason even death bows its head.

This isn’t metaphor. This isn’t cultural poetry. This is the architecture of Dharma.

And for those who walk Her path, She doesn’t make them devotees. She makes them Narasimhas. Not to decorate the world, but to tear what needs tearing. And when their breath becomes fire, when they begin to forget how to stop, She ends it. Without asking.

Because no Bhairava moves unless She decides it is time. And no Bhairava rests unless She closes the work.

Jai GuruDeva

Jai Sri Swarnakarshana Bhairava

Jai Maa Adya ❤🙏🏽🌺🌺🌺