Navaratri: 9 Nights of Honoring the Goddess (Oct 3 - Oct 12, 2024)
Why do we dance in circles and why in Gujarati, is it called garba?
Navaratri: nine nights (nava: nine and rat / ratri: nights)
Navadurga: nine forms of Durga (nava: nine and Durga also known as Kali or the Goddess)
Garba: womb (garbha means womb in Sanskrit)
One of my earliest memories of Navaratri, also known as Navadurga, takes me back to when I was about 5 or 6 years old. I was stretched out on a bleacher, half-asleep, in a school auditorium, wearing my chaniya choli. In that drowsy state, I could feel the vibrations of the music through the bleacher beneath me and hear the rhythmic pulse of the loud garba songs filling the space. Sometimes, garbas can draw crowds of hundreds or even thousands; this one felt somewhere in between. Yet, despite the noise and the swirling energy, I knew that as midnight approached, I would drift into deeper sleep. I would be carried to the car, and in a sleepy haze, I’d slip out of my choli and into bed, with the echo of the night still dancing in my mind.
Even though we didn’t know everyone there, there’s a shared sense of familiarity that I know every Gujarati Indian American can relate to. We’ve all spent evenings in those rented school auditoriums, navigating our version of Navaratri in America. Many of us, born and raised here, haven’t experienced Navaratri in India, but we know the rhythm of it in the U.S. well. There’s a distinct feeling of home and belonging that comes from growing up attending these events—surrounded by family, community members, and seeing the boys we had a crush on (oh hi dad (he reads this newsletter:)). As my sisters and cousins grew older and went off to college, it eventually became just me and my mom from our family, continuing the tradition together.
In high school, my love for Navaratri deepened. My best friend and I went every single night of the nine-day festival, even on school nights. Her mom, or sometimes another aunty, would drive us—one way or another, we always found a ride.
Once we were there, we’d dance in endless circles, often without stopping the entire night. It was like a trancelike state, repeating the same movements over and over again, with God placed at the center. The time just went. We’d start at 7 or 8:00 and not even realize when it was midnight or even 1 am. I knew garba was a way of channeling divine energy, honoring the goddesses, and marking the start of the harvest, the autumn equinox, and the Hindu holidays to come. I understood its significance, but for me, it was more than just a ritual—it felt meditative. I loved dancing, losing myself in the rhythm, and the sense of peace it brought. Singing aarti at the end of the night became one of my favorite moments, and I cherished how my voice felt as it joined the others in prayer.
This time of year, I’m experiencing something I’m surprised to experience at this point in my adult life - grief.
As I transition into adulthood and attend garba less frequently, or with a different community than the one I grew up with, I realize that these traditions are taking on a new shape. The way I experience them, and how my family engages with them, will evolve. My siblings and cousins may stop going all together. It reflects the natural shift of our generation, as these practices adapt to the different stages of our lives. Yet, even as the ways we celebrate may change, the core of it all—our sense of connection and cultural continuity—remains. We’ll find new ways to honor our heritage, ensuring it stays meaningful across generations. Yet, there's also a sense of grief in knowing we won’t experience these traditions the same way we once did.
Navaratri literally means "nine nights" (nava meaning nine and ratri meaning nights). These nine nights lead up to the celebration of Vijayadashmi, or Dussehra, the day Lord Rama defeated the demon, Ravana. This is different from Diwali because Diwali, as I explain in my post about Sita, is the day Lord Rama returns to his kingdom, Ayodhya). During Navaratri, the Goddess is worshipped in nine forms, known as the Nava-Durga: Shailaputri, Brahmacharini, Chandraghanta, Kushmanda, SkandaMata, Katyayani, Kalaratri, Mahagauri, and Siddhidatri. These aren't separate goddesses, but they represent the nine phases of the Goddess’s life. The nine nights of Navaratri are a celebration of the Goddess in her entirety, acknowledging her power in all its forms.
Again, I love how Devdutt Patnaik describes the nine forms:
The Goddess is Shakti, the divine energy that gives meaning to Shiva, who represents disembodied pure consciousness. Shakti is essential for Shiva to manifest and create. The journey of the Goddess through her nine forms in Navaratri illustrates the evolving dynamic between Shakti and Shiva. I can’t credit
The first three days represent MahaKali (the great mother Kali) or Durga Mata (mother) who embodies strength and power.
The next three days represent MahaLakshmi (great Lakshmi) who embodies wealth, abundance, and fertility.
The last three days represent MahaSaraswati who embodies the ultimate knowledge and wisdom, study, and the arts.
Shailaputri – The first stage of the Goddess is Shailaputri, where Shakti is the daughter of the mountains. Born from the mountains, she chooses to marry the mountain hermit, Shiva. However, Shiva, withdrawn into his cave, is averse to marriage, stubbornly resisting her.
Brahmacharini – In the second stage, Shakti becomes Brahmacharini, the ascetic, mirroring Shiva’s lifestyle as a hermit. She undertakes intense tapasya (penance), matching Shiva's austerity. It is through this reflection that Shiva realizes the consequences if both men and women chose the path of renunciation—life would cease, and the world would end. This insight transforms Shiva’s understanding: without Shakti, he is lifeless, merely a shava (corpse). Thus, he agrees to marry her, and Shakti takes on her third form.
Chandraghanta – In this form, Shakti becomes Chandraghanta, symbolized by the crescent-shaped moon (the bell-shaped moon) seen on the first day of the waxing moon. If Shiva represents the waning moon, the destroyer, with Shakti by his side, he becomes the waxing moon, the creator. Now united with Shiva, Shakti enjoys their companionship, and her body radiates warmth and vitality.
Kushmanda – In her fourth form, Shakti becomes Kushmanda, embodying gentle arousal and radiance. She shines as brilliantly as the sun in the presence of Shiva, symbolizing her power and her ability to nurture creation. Through her warmth and energy, life begins to flourish.
SkandaMata – In her fifth form, Shakti becomes SkandaMata, the nurturing mother of Skanda (Kartikeya). In this phase, she has transformed Shiva, the ascetic hermit, into a householder, known as Shankara. She brings him into domestic life and makes him a father, symbolizing the integration of family and creation into his previously isolated existence.
Katyayani – In her sixth form, Shakti becomes Katyayani, the fierce warrior goddess. Outraged by the tyranny of Mahishasura, who arrogantly believes no man can defeat him, she takes on the challenge. Mahishasura overlooks the power of a woman, and it is Katyayani who ultimately slays him, proving that divine feminine strength is unmatched.
Kalaratri – In her seventh form, Shakti manifests as Kalaratri, the fearsome and terrifying aspect of the Goddess. As Kali, she slays the demons Chanda and Munda, adorning herself with their entrails, limbs, and heads. This is the darkest, most intense form of the Goddess, where her destructive power is fully unleashed. After this battle, she quickly returns to a state of calm, her ferocity subsiding.
Mahagauri – Mahagauri represents the Goddess in her domestic, peaceful form. Now she is the homemaker, no longer wild on the battlefield. Her hair is tied, and she presides over the home, nurturing and feeding her family. As Annapurna, she prepares food for her husband Shiva, embodying the divine role of sustainer and provider.
Siddhidatri – In her final form, Shakti becomes Siddhidatri, the accomplished one. Her journey is complete, and she takes her place as one half of Shiva’s body, symbolizing the complete union of masculine and feminine energies. She has not only transformed Shiva but has also connected him to worldly life, making him realize his purpose—to animate the world and help others find their own purpose. This is the ultimate role of the Goddess in Hindu mythology: to balance creation and destruction, to guide the cosmos, and to help the world understand its value and purpose.
Each form of Shakti reflects her evolving relationship with Shiva and the balance between destruction and creation, withdrawal and engagement, death and life. Together, they sustain the cycle of existence.
And why nine nights and ten days? The symbolism is rooted in nature. Childbirth typically takes nine solar months and ten lunar months. In Hinduism, the number ten often signifies completion—many rituals, like Ganesh Puja and Shradh (mourning rites after someone passes), follow a ten-day cycle. These cycles represent the rhythm of life, creation, and closure, deeply embedded in Hindu tradition. We often see womb symbols like a pot or a sprouting seed.
Navratri across India is celebrated with various customs reflecting regional traditions. In some parts of India, women dance in circles, entering a trancelike state, embodying the spiritual and transformative power of the festival while others have animal sacrifices deeply embedded into the tradition. MahaKali is earthly in her nature and is often associated with sex and violence, so in hilly or tribal regions in states like Punjab, Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, and West Bengal, blood sacrifices in the form of animals are common. Other areas of north India, the goddess is more associated with Ram and Vishnu and there are more vegetarian practices.
So why do we celebrate Navaratri with garba? While this is the tradition in Gujarat, other parts of India celebrate Navaratri in different ways, each reflecting local customs and cultural significance.
In Andhra Pradesh, for instance, women carry pots adorned with flowers and neem leaves, entering a trance-like state as part of their ritual, sometimes offering symbolic gestures, including blood, to honor the Goddess. In Mysore, the festival takes on royal significance with grand Dussehra celebrations tied to the royal family’s legacy or in the Rajput tradition, the warrior and blades come out.
Across India, the Goddess is often associated with primal forces like blood and sex, representing the raw, earthly power of creation and destruction. These variations in celebration reflect the many facets of the divine feminine, embodying the connection between the spiritual and the material world in different cultural contexts.
Almost each year, without fail I’ve experienced a significant shift in my life and can feel one taking place in this moment of my life. There’s something magical about this time of year - a blend of the goddess’s energy, the changing of seasons, and perhaps even a deeper universal rhythm at play. This time of year holds a sacred power, inviting reflection, renewal, and transformation.