I’ve always felt like I’m living in two very different worlds.
One is noisy—full of SaaS dashboards, growth charts, and conversations about speed and scale. The other is silent—anchored in chants, stillness, and the wisdom of old scriptures.
Both stretch me. Both steady me. Technology sharpens my thinking and pushes me forward. Spirituality slows me down, steadies my breath, and pulls me back home.
And in that quieter world, there’s one practice I keep returning to again and again: the Lalitha Sahasranamam.
It isn’t just a hymn. It feels like a doorway. A thousand names of the Divine Mother—each one a vibration, each one alive with strength, compassion, and wisdom.
Maa Lalitha
We often call Bhagwan Shiv Mahadev the God of gods. But few know that even he bows to Devi Lalitha Tripura Sundari, the supreme Shakti, the force from which all creation begins and to which it eventually returns.
At her doorstep stands Lord Ganesha, the eternal gatekeeper. On either side of her throne sit Maa Lakshmi and Maa Saraswati. Every god and every form of wisdom and strength ultimately rises from her and dissolves back into her.
And she doesn’t bless from afar. She sits at the center of the Sri Chakra, surrounded by 64 Yoginis, each guarding a sacred layer. To chant her name is not simply devotion—it is direct union.
The thousand names of Lalitha in the Sahasranamam aren’t “just” mantras. They’re living vibrations, each carrying her power, her grace, and her presence.
But what touches me most is this: the scriptures remind us she is not only “out there.” She also lives within us—as resilience, intuition, clarity, and the dormant Kundalini Shakti patiently waiting to rise.
Reciting the Sahasranamam doesn’t feel like reading words on a page. Done sincerely, it becomes something else. Sometimes it stirs peace. Sometimes power. Sometimes a strange, almost ancient familiarity.
Kundalini
