“Mahishashura had been killed. Peace was restored to the heavens. Indra had been crowned King again. The vociferous war that shook the three worlds was now over.

“How could Durga single handedly kill the asura? Was it because of her strength or because of the divine blessings showered upon her by the Gods?”, that became the chief question now!

”We!”, declared Indra in the open court one day, “ We are the source of Durga’s strength! How do you expect a female to defeat an asura single handedly?!”, he mocked!

”Ah! That sounds so true, Devraj! Who is Durga without the divine weapons presented to her by us gods?”, Varuna said, his opinions affirmative of Indra’s view!

“Hmm. Your point sounds logical, Varuna. But tell me, why is this question so important to be answered now?”, asked Brihaspati, the wisest of the Gods who secretly knew who the greater divine power was but faltered to opine that before the Devaraj!

The gods didn’t have an answer. They were simply discussing it because that was what Indra talked about all day and literally no one wanted to offend their king.

Brihaspati looked at Indra. Indra gave him a harsh gaze in return.

“How would you know, O sage of the three worlds?”, he asked, getting up from his throne, and then, with a pause, he continued, “Look at the world below us: the world of mortals! These men, who would know none other than Indra, Varuna, Vayu and Brihaspati some years ago, now chant and dedicate hymns in the names of Durga, Parvati, Adi Shakti Mahamaya and what not! Do you expect me to seat back and relax?”

Brihaspati was astounded! He knew it was Indra’s ego speaking thus! But what could a lone sage do? After all, he was the king of gods and the others were affirmative of his words. He had no chance but to sit back and nod his head, the only thing someone could do to avoid being left alone.

Silence doomed on the hall for a moment. Indra eased himself and sat back on the throne disappointed! This was the Later Vedic Age on Earth and he knew who the people now regarded to as the principal deities: Brahma, Vishnu and Maheshwar! How on earth could he prove them inferior?!

Durga had the support of all the three of them! It would be impossible to even think of vanquishing her on a battlefield! But he could surely humiliate her by inviting him to the court and challenging her to a friendly duel!

The Devas nodded their heads. This seemed to be an idea sensible enough to be safely carried out. Agni was entrusted with the task of officially inviting the Devi!

With a bow at his king, the God of Fire disappeared from the eloquent hall of the Devas and re appeared the next moment with a message from the Devi who had accepted the invite!

”Now that's what we call our first victory, isn’t it Devas?!”, he yelled in delight!

“Oh yes, it is! It is!”, the Devas cheered on behind him as Surya, the Sun God who saw all set far in the west, a wide grin bedizening his face!

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Eventually, as time flew by, it was the day of the duel that arrived. Swarga was embellished in riches! Gold and silver ornate every single immovable object that one’s vision caught hold of.

“The Devi would be here any moment. Get ready, Devas! Is everything well prepared?”, he asked.

“Yes!”, delightfully said the devas who had carefully chosen the best of their attires for the day!

Rishis were invited from three corners of the world to attend the ceremony. A huge yagna was being conducted and a blazing altar fire stood burning in the centre! But where was the Devi?

“Fled out of fright, maybe?”, opined Vayu!

“Hidden herself somewhere?”, added Varuna!

The king of the gods laughed heartily at each of these jokes for they were praises for him!

Nobody knew where Durga was, except for Brahma, the creator and the chief guest at the friendly duel. The Devas feared Vishnu and Shiva’s rage and ferocity and hence they called Brahma, the peaceful creator, to see who the more superior being was!

Time went by peacefully, until Indra himself mocked the Devi. “A female never equals a Deva’s might! Compose your hymns in my name, mortals of the earth!”

And as soon as these words left the mouth of the God, the sky turned pale and the golden embellishments of Swarga lost their grandeur. Everything turned dull and the paradise looked more of an infertile barren desert land.

The Devas looked surprised, some looked worried taking it to be another asura invasion while Brahma laughed in delight. Amid all these, from within the skies spoke out a female voice, a voice that echoed through the tiniest corners of the three worlds!

“You wanted to humiliate me, Indra? Here I am, Adi Parashakti! Why don’t we play the duel now?”, the voice said.

It was as mellifluous as thousands of flutes played together. Indra stood stunned.

“How?”, he murmured. “I cannot see you. I can only hear you!”, he finally said, building up his courage to speak.

The voice softly giggled.

“So you want to see me, is it Devaraj?”, she asked.

“Yes”, replied an arrogant Indra. “Thereafter, we’ll play the duel.”

A canorous laughter followed. What happened next made chills flow down Indra’s spine.

With irradiance outshining Surya himself and winds that no Vayu could blow, a little girl dressed in a white saree embroidered in red, walked down towards the pavilion. Her glaze was so bright that the Gods feared to look up, as a result of which everyone’s heads bowed low before her splendour!

“I am Adi Parashakti, the ultimate source of all energy that exists in the cosmos”, she said.

Indra had been defeated, he knew. His head hung low, the king of the gods ashamed of himself and his deeds. He kneeled before the Devi, followed by all the gods behind him.

“Maa”, he cried out. “Forgive me, Maa. I did not mean such. I’m so sorry. I know I’m not fit to lead the gods. Forgive me, your child, maa! Appear before us in a form we all would be able to see and worship maa.”, he pleaded before the Devi, his hands folded and his head still bent in reverence.

The irradiant splendour disappeared all of a sudden and glory returned back to Swarga. Indra lifted his head.

There, in front of him, stood a goddess donned in a white saree, riding the mountain lion of Himalaya. She held Vishnu’s Sudarshan Chakra on her upper right hand, Sankha on her upper left, an arrow on her lower right and the bow on her lower left. Her face resembled that of a thousand lotuses dancing in the zephyrs that blow in the Middle World. And her eyes, the blue balls of vibrance that could not be stared at!”

“Was that Jagaddhatri?”, asked the little boy, his wrists firmly holding on to Krishnachandra’s hands.

“Yes, my little one. She was Jagaddhatri: the bearer of the world!”, the Rajah replied.

It was evening and crimson hue had taken over the sky. Birds returned back to their nests in flocks. Krishnachandra stared up at the slightly visible stars and murmured other worldly things to himself.

“Rajah ji, the puja. It is about to start. The Brahmins require your presence.”, a servant called out to inform his king.

“I know”, he softly said. It was the first time he knew, that Krishnanagore was going to worship an idol of Maa Jagaddhatri, the bearer of the world, and he had dutifully effectuated all rituals required to conduct the same.

The Rajah turned back and stared at the little, young boy who was too fond to hear his stories about devas and rakshasas.

“So, does Maa Jagaddhatri’s narrative symbolise the triumph of truth and humility over ego?”, the boy asked.

“Yes, my boy, it does! I will tell you the rest when we get back to the palace quarters. The sun is going to set soon. Come with me.”, he said to the boy, “It is time for the puja to start!”