The Ways of Devi Are Very Mysterious! She Transforms in Ways You Can't Imagine

Prologue – The Fan and the Electricity

Purusha and Prakriti. Two of the most ancient philosophical concepts. Misunderstood and often mislabeled. Purusha is not male. Prakriti is not female. These are not gendered beings. They are principles – consciousness and energy, stillness and movement, the witness and the dancer. Think of a fan and electricity. The fan spins only when the current flows. But what good is electricity if there is no fan to manifest it? Yet the illusion begins when the electricity believes it has blades or when the fan imagines it moves by its own volition.

And that illusion, dear seeker, is Maya.

The Devi's ways are unfathomable. She transforms in ways beyond imagination. In the Devi Saptashloki, and in the Chandi Path (Durga Saptasati), we are told that even the minds of the wise, the sages, the seers – are ensnared in illusion by Her will. She is Mahamaya. She is the one who binds the Atman in forgetfulness. And She is the one who can lift that veil.

What is Maya? Every sadhak must ask this question. Every devotee who bows at Her feet must confront this mystery. But to understand, we must turn to a story.


A long time ago, a sadhu approached Shri Vishnu and asked, “O Lord, what is Maya?”

Vishnu did not answer. Instead, he smiled gently and said, “I am thirsty. Could you fetch me some water?”

The sadhu nodded and went in search of a well. Nearby was a village, and there he found a woman drawing water. Their eyes met. A conversation led to affection, affection led to love, love led to marriage. Years passed. Children were born. A life unfolded. Happiness, sorrow, struggle, joy. Entire decades rolled by. And then one day, a great flood came. His house was washed away. His family lost.

Devastated, he fell to his knees. And in that moment, Shri Vishnu appeared again and asked, “Now, do you understand Maya?”

Maya is not a theory. It is life as you know it. It is the story you believe you’re living.


You must have heard the chant:

“Ya Devi Sarva Bhuteshu Buddhi Rupena Samsthita Namastasyai Namastasyai Namastasyai Namo Namah”

We invoke Devi in the form of Buddhi (intellect), Nidra (sleep), Kshudha (hunger), Chhaya (shadow), Shakti (power), Trishna (thirst), Shanti (peace), Lajja (shame), and so on. Why? Why do we pray to hunger and shame?

Because these are Tattvas. Fundamental vibrations of Maya. These attributes never existed in the Absolute Silence. They came into being the moment Prakriti interacted with Purusha. In that instant, the stillness began to shimmer, the One began to seem like many. The veil was cast.

Before the dance, there was silence. Before movement, stillness. In Vedantic terms, before Maya, there was only Para Brahman – indescribable, beyond attributes, beyond time. There was no creation. No destruction. Just infinite, undivided equilibrium.

Then came the inexplicable moment. The moment that even the Vedas do not attempt to define. Prakriti turned toward Purusha. Energy stirred in the presence of Consciousness. And the result was Maya. The grand illusion. The cosmic stage.

And with it, time, space, hunger, intelligence, sorrow, delight. The play began.


Why did Maya come into existence? Nobody knows. The Vedas are silent. The Puranas sing of Leela – a divine play. Some modern minds call it a glitch in the system – a quantum disturbance in the still field.

The truth? Even the question is born out of Maya. Because questions and answers are both part of duality. The real is beyond reason.

Some say the One wanted to see itself. Some say it was the joy of expression. Others claim it is suffering that teaches us to transcend.

But ask any realized being and they will tell you: the moment you try to understand Maya logically, you’re already lost in it.

Long before Elon Musk tweeted about simulation theory, India’s rishis lived it.

Kaka Bhusundi, the immortal crow-sage, watched the Ramayana unfold again and again, in infinite loops, across countless universes. He had transcended time. To him, life was not linear. It was a repeating algorithm. A sacred loop.

In Yoga Vasistha, Rama is taught that the universe is projected by the mind. That the world is a dream within a dream, nested like Russian dolls.

This is Maya. A self-sustaining program that generates experiences.

And the Yogis figured it out. Without microscopes, without supercomputers. Through silence, tapas, and surrender.


So how do we exit the loop?

By surrendering to Devi. Not fighting Maya, but going to the Source. Devi is the only force that can dissolve Her own illusion. And She lies coiled in each of us, as Kundalini. At the base of the spine, the Mula Shakti sleeps. Waiting to rise.

Through Sadhana, mantra, dhyana, and bhakti, She awakens. The illusion fades. The world remains, but the veil lifts.

That is Moksha. Liberation not from the world, but from delusion.

Every path leads to Her. Whether your Ishta is Shiva, Vishnu, Rama, Krishna, or even the Nirguna Brahman – the final step is always Devi.

Kalidasa found Her in his silence. Mooka Shankara, born mute, sang Her thousand names. Every yogi, every jnani, every bhakta must ultimately fall at Her feet. Because She is the beginning and the end. The illusion and the escape. The knot and the sword.

She is your hunger. She is your intellect. She is your grief, your joy, your desire, your renunciation. She is the one watching and the one acting. She is the curtain and the light behind it.

This universe, these laws, these cycles, this birth and death – are Her design. Her veil.

You cannot escape Maya through rebellion. Only through reverence.

So bow to Her. Seek Her. And when She is ready, She will lift the veil.

Because in truth, you were never bound. You only dreamed you were.

And She, the Mula Shakti, the Great Mother, was watching the whole time.