In Search Of Maa Jayanti: Deep In Hills Of Meghalaya, One Of The Lesser Known Shakti Peethas Of The Subcontinent

On the chilly winter morning of 5 February, 2025, my friend and I set out for something truly extraordinary—one of the lesser-known Shakti Peethas, the Maa Jayanti Mandir, in the remote town of Nartiang, nestled in the verdant hills of Meghalaya.

We had rented a car for this adventure, eager to explore a place that few outside of the region know about.

As we left the bustle of Guwahati behind, the road to Meghalaya greeted us with dense clouds and an eerie silence. As we crossed the border into the state known as the "Abode of Clouds," the weather grew colder, and the fog enveloped us entirely.

Our drive, though beautiful, was long. The winding roads cut through dense forests and tiny villages. With each turn, we plunged deeper into Meghalaya, India’s rock capital, its charm amplified by a playlist of Guns N' Roses and Linkin Park. The rhythmic melodies of classic rock seemed to sync with the momentum of the car as it navigated the misty dreamy landscape.

After about three and a half hours on the road, we finally approached the town of Nartiang. It was a quiet sleepy town, but stood out with its rarity as one of the few Hindu-majority towns in a Christian-dominated state.

The contrast was striking, and as we drove through its narrow streets, we were captivated by the town's architectural charm. The 19th-century British-style bungalows, locally referred to as Assam-type homes, with their slanted tin roofs, gave Nartiang an old-world feel, blending the colonial legacy with the beauty of the landscape.

We both silently marveled at the sight—this was the perfect omen before stepping into the abode of the goddess.

As we continued on foot towards the temple, the cool mountain air seemed to carry a soft whisper, telling stories of devotion that had lasted for generations.

The Pnar people, also known as the Jaintia, are the indigenous inhabitants of this region, and their connection to the Goddess runs deep. The gateway felt like a threshold between the mundane world and the sacred realm of Maa Durga.

We passed through the gateway and made our way up the hill toward the Maa Jayanti Mandir. The temple was small and unpretentious, but there was a palpable energy in the air that could not be ignored.

Inside the temple were two ashta-dhatu idols of Maa Durga, depicted in her most fierce form—ten arms raised, riding her lion, and wielding a trident to slay the half-buffalo, half-demon Mahishasura.

Her expression was powerful, commanding, and protective, radiating the force of the universe itself. The moment we stepped inside, I felt an overwhelming sense of reverence.

This was no ordinary temple. This was a place where mythology and devotion met, a site where Devi Sati’s left thigh is believed to have fallen in the aftermath of the Daksha Yajna, adding spiritual weight to the experience.

As I stood before there, I couldn’t help but reflect on the deeper meaning of this place. Nartiang, with its powerful connection to the Goddess, held a mystique that felt ancient and timeless.

History and Lore

The story of Nartiang and the Maa Jayanti Mandir is deeply tied to the ancient Jaintia Kingdom, a land with roots that stretch back into the depths of time.

The kingdom, once a powerful force in the northeastern region of India, is believed to have had its first brush with historical significance in the epic Mahabharata.

According to the legend, Pandava Prince Arjuna fought against the princes of the Jaintia Kingdom after they captured his horse during the Ashwamedha yajna.

It is mentioned that the kingdom was matrilineal—not because queens or princesses ruled, but due to a distinct system where the throne was inherited not by the king’s son, but by the son of the king’s sister, the king’s nephew.

This peculiar tradition ensured that the royal bloodline continued through the maternal line, creating a unique social order. This fascinating element of Jaintia culture survives even today.

Under a long line of Brahmin kings starting from Kedareshwar Rai, the Jaintia Kingdom flourished as a center of Hinduism. The kings were not just political rulers, but also the patrons of several temples dedicated to Hindu gods and goddesses.

Among the most prominent religious sites were five major temples spread across the Jaintia Hills, each a testament to the spiritual wealth of the kingdom. Among these was the Jayanti Devi Temple at Nartiang, which eventually became one of the most revered and significant sites in the kingdom.

Alongside the temple in Nartiang, other ancient temples such as the one at Syndai, Borkhat, Jayantiapur, and another on the Indo-Bangla border near Muktapur, contributed to the kingdom’s spiritual landscape. Among these, only the first one survives today.

Over time, Jayanti Devi grew into a figure of profound spiritual importance. As per the Jaintia Buranji, a historical record of the Jaintia Kingdom, Jayanti Devi was said to have disappeared into the heavens. 

In his deep sorrow and yearning to find her, her son Bara Gossain Rai followed the instructions of a divine dream and ordered that the spot where Jayanti Devi had vanished be excavated.

To the astonishment of all, the excavation unearthed a piece of metal—an alloy of the eight principal metals, or astha-dhatu. This alloy was believed to possess immense spiritual power and was used to craft an idol of Goddess Durga or Jayanti.

This idol, made of the sacred astha-dhatu, is the one that is still worshipped at the Jayanti Devi Temple in Nartiang, and continues to attract devotees from near and far, its power and presence bringing blessings to those who seek the Goddess’s protection and grace.

But as centuries passed, the royal patronage that had supported the temple weakened, and with it, the fortunes of the Jayanti Temple began to fade.The Jaintia Kingdom itself faced a series of changes as new dynasties and influences took hold of the land. However, the divine command was not to be ignored for long. 

It was during the reign of King Dhan Manik Syiem Sutnga, a contemporary of Koch Raja Lakshmi Narayana of Assam, that the fate of the temple would once again change. The Koch dynasty had been a major Hindu empire, with rulers who were ardent practitioners of Hinduism.

Lakshmi Narayana’s father, Nara Narayan, had even employed scholars to translate important texts like the Bhagavad Gita, the Puranas and the Mahabharata into Assamese, helping to further the spread of Hindu religious thought and culture. 

King Dhan Manik, a strategic and powerful ruler, sought to solidify his kingdom’s position. He married the Koch princess and later made Nartiang the summer capital of the Jaintia Kingdom. King Dhan Manik’s reign marked a turning point in the kingdom’s religious and political landscape. It is believed that it was the Koch queen who played a significant role in influencing the Jaintia royalty to adopt Hinduism.

One night, the Goddess Jayanti, also known as Jainteshwari, appeared to King Dhan Manik in a divine vision, confirming the importance of Nartiang as the place where her left thigh had fallen during the aftermath of the Daksha Yajna. The Goddess instructed King Dhan Manik to go to the site, find her idol, and build a temple in her honour at Nartiang, thus re-establishing the sacredness of the land.

The temple that emerged was not a simple Vedic Hindu shrine but a blend of various religious practices. The Jaintia royal family embraced Tantric Hinduism, a form of worship that centered around rituals and the veneration of the divine feminine.

Simultaneously, the Pnar people, the indigenous group of the Jaintia Hills, followed their own religious tradition known as Niamtre, which combined animist beliefs with Hindu influences.

One unique feature of this amalgamation was that animist rituals were used to please Hindu deities such as Durga and Shiva. This fusion of beliefs also resulted in a unique form of worship at the Jayanti Devi Temple.

One of the most notable practices associated with the temple was the offering of narabali, or human sacrifice, to Devi Jainteshwari during the night of Durga Ashtami (the eighth day of Durga Puja or Navaratri). The tradition was believed to appease the goddess, ensuring her blessings upon the kingdom.

The practice also reflected the martial nature of the kingdom—its kings were not only rulers but also fierce warlords who must’ve sacrificed their enemies at the altar of the Goddess, similar to the Ahoms who offered the heads of defeated Mughals at the Maa Kamakhya Kshetram of Guwahati.

During my visit, a peculiar feature caught my attention inside the quiet sanctum sanctorum, the garbha griha of the temple. Near the sacred idol of Goddess Jayanti, there was a pit. The Doloi, the head priest, explained that the pit leads directly to the Myntang River and in earlier times served as a channel for the heads of sacrificial victims.

It was a chilling thought that, long ago, the heads of human sacrifices would tumble into the river through this very pit, a ritual that speaks to the depths of spiritual fervour once held in these hills.

The ritual of narabali was a key feature of the temple’s history until the mid-19th century. The Jaintia kings were deeply entrenched in the practice, believing that it was a necessary offering to please the Goddess and ensure their kingdom's prosperity.

The royal family of the Jaintia Kingdom held the temple in high regard, and it was the ruling Syiem (king) who acted as the chief patron of the shrine. Over time, however, the need for regular priests became apparent. The Jaintia Raja Jasa Manik Syiem Sutnga, seeking to formalise and standardise the rituals, invited priests to take charge of the day-to-day temple operations.

To resolve this, the king invited a priest from Maharashtra—a Chandraseniya Kayastha Prabhu, or CKP, surnamed Deshmukh, to perform the rituals at the temple. This move, while controversial, ensured the continuation of religious practices at the temple.

Even today, it is the 30th-generation Deshmukh priest who holds the title of Doloi, the chief priest, responsible for overseeing all temple activities. The nominal Syiem remains the temple's patron, but the temple’s spiritual leadership resides with the Doloi.

It was fascinating to see this long-standing lineage of priests still at work in the temple, conducting the rituals that had been passed down through generations.

In 1821, a group of Jaintia people kidnapped several British subjects and intended to sacrifice them to the Goddess Jayanti as part of an annual tradition that had been followed for centuries. The British authorities, horrified, threatened to take action. One of the kidnappers was eventually apprehended and confessed to the sacrificial ritual.

The British were appalled by the news that the sacrifice involved cutting the throat of the victim and bathing the Jaintia princess in their blood—an act believed to bless the princess with fertility and offspring.

In 1824, the Jaintia Raja, fearing British retaliation, reached an agreement with the British agent David Scott to stop the practice of human sacrifice in exchange for a cessation of hostilities. 

However, the rituals continued in secrecy. In 1832, they kidnapped four British men. Three were sacrificed, and one managed to escape, alerting the British authorities.

The most striking example is the u blang synïaw, or "midnight goat," which is sacrificed in the same manner that human sacrifices were once carried out. The sacrificial goat is dressed in human clothes, wearing a dhoti, turban and a human mukha (face mask), with male earrings called ki kyndiam—all designed to mimic a human figure.

On the midnight of Ashtami of Durga Puja, as the Doloi recites prayers, the sacrifice is carried out by the Syiem with a special sacrificial sword, which is straight, rather than the curved khadga sword used in other Shakti Peethas.

This ritual, though no longer involving human life, remains a solemn part of the temple's tradition, keeping the historical connection to the ancient practices alive in a modified form.

Durga Puja is, without a doubt, the most important festival at the Jayanti Devi Temple, a time when the entire community comes together to honour the Goddess for four days. While the rituals followed here share common elements with those in other parts of India, there are significant local variations that make Nartiang’s celebration unique.

This act of dressing the plant and worshipping it as the goddess is a deeply rooted local custom, steeped in both Tantric practices and animistic reverence for nature. It is believed that the banana plant, a symbol of fertility and life, is an appropriate vessel to house the divine spirit of Durga, who is revered as the protector of life.

On the final day of the festival, the mood turns somber and reverent. The banana plant, now imbued with the blessings of the Goddess, is ceremoniously carried down the hill to the Myntdu River. There, it is immersed in the waters, symbolizing the return of the Goddess to the heavens.

Close by, within walking distance, is the temple of the Bhairava (known as Kamadishwar), the consort of Shakti, where one can see the remains of ancient cannons from the past.

Keeping this tradition in mind, the immersion is accompanied by a ceremonial gun salute, a final salute to the Goddess, a powerful ritual that underscores the temple's martial history and the warrior spirit of the Jaintia people.

The salute reverberates through the hills, the echo of the gunshots merging with the sounds of the river and the fervent prayers of the people. It is a moment of unity, of devotion, and of reverence—a reflection of the deep connection the people of Nartiang have with their divine protector.

After leaving the sacred grounds of the Jayanti Devi Temple, I ventured further into the landscape of Nartiang to uncover the famed monoliths, known as Menhirs in the Pnar language. These towering stones are as enigmatic as they are awe-inspiring.

Some say they are the tallest monoliths in India, and there are whispers that they may even hold the title of the largest in the world. Their presence is ancient, their origins shrouded in mystery, yet they stand as stoic sentinels of a forgotten past.

The tallest of them all, Moo Long Syiem, towers at a remarkable 26 feet. According to local lore, this colossal stone was erected by U Mar Phalyngki, a legendary figure who is said to have been a giant and a warrior.

The story goes that after a victorious battle, he encountered a fierce storm on his journey back. Seeking shelter, he asked the youngest daughter of the Syiem if he could borrow her umbrella.

After the rain had ceased, he placed it in the forest, and it is said that he never returned to retrieve it. Over time, this stone would become a monument to his might and triumph.

While the folklore is fascinating, scholars have a different interpretation of the monoliths’ origins. They contend that the tallest stone likely commemorates a significant figure in the local clan, possibly a hero or leader, while the other stones were added by subsequent generations to honor other important figures or mark significant events.

What makes these stones even more intriguing is their connection to ancient burial practices. Many of them were placed alongside large stone slabs called Ki Moo Shynrang, which means "male," and Ki Moo Kynthai, meaning "female."

The majority of the monoliths were erected over half a millennium ago, with additions made through the mid-nineteenth century. The precise history of each stone is lost to time, and many of the tales surrounding them have faded away, leaving only traces of their former significance.

Yet, as I wandered among the massive stones, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of reverence and wonder. The stillness of the place was palpable, the stones standing tall like ancient guardians of secrets untold.

Leaving the monoliths behind, I bid farewell to Nartiang, its echoes of the past lingering in my mind. As I made my way towards the town’s edge, I took a moment to reflect on my journey.

The journey to discover Maa Jayanti, the goddess of Nartiang, had been one of discovery—not just of sacred sites or ancient stones, but of a deeper understanding of the enduring spirit of the place. I had come seeking the divine, and in doing so, had found not only a powerful goddess but also a vibrant culture, an unbroken connection to the past, and a sense of timelessness that only places like Nartiang can offer. 

I had set out to find Maa Jayanti, and in the end, I had not only found her but also the heart of Nartiang itself: a place where ancient traditions continue to flourish, where history is written in stones, and where the divine resides not just in temples and idols, but in the very land and spirit of the people.