Śiva was active. In Chaṇḍī the beasts of the forest complain to the goddess that they are in terror of Kālaketu the hunter. Under the guise of their speeches and of Chaṇḍī's, the political state of Bengal is set out.
Today, men are feeling too proud to consent to be wretched or to despair. Rabindranath Tagore, as is well known, is no lover of Śāktism; and, like many patriotic Bengalis, he feels that the time for such an attitude as Mukundarāma's has passed. 'The poet was a poor man, and was oppressed. So his only refuge was in the thought of this capricious Power, who might suddenly fling down the highest and exalt the lowest.'[1] It is interesting in this connection to notice that the great period of Śākta-poetry in Bengal was the end of the eighteenth century. when the country's fortunes had reached their lowest ebb. and were about to turn towards prosperity. It is true that Śākta-poetry is written today; but if we would see the adoration of the terrible goddess in all its sincerity and passion, we must go back to the eighteenth century, to the period when the Bengali mind became so unhappy and so darkened, when men died and despaired so easily, and when the number of satīis[2] increased to such a grim extent, in the last half-century before the rite was abolished. The cult of Kālīi received another great revival in the days of the swadeshi struggle, within the present century, when the thought of the educated classes began to be consolidated in the demand for the control of their own destinies. There was a strong attempt to identify it with nation-worship; Kālī was held to be Bengal personified. This aspect of the cult is perhaps not very far below the surface even now. But there has come such an access of mental happiness and of self-respect to the people, that it is certain that they will not again feel as despondent as the poet of Chaṇḍī did, with no hope but from the intervention and irruption of sudden, irresponsible power. At least, it will be unreasonable if they do.
