She finally reached the fiery black deity of Lord Shani and stared at it for the longest time. It was bigger than the one she had in her village back home. She gawked at a little mud structure in which sat the deity of Lord Shani, till the sky was a bright blue, the birds had settled in, and sweat glistened on her skin. It was time to head back.

She walked back through the plantation towards the ashram. She walked past a towering cardboard image of herself but as her avatar of Guru Maa Durga, clad in a satin black sari. Reams of shiny black fabric encased her body. Black the colour of Shani. She had submerged herself in his shadow.

They had taken a month to arrive at this look. She had perfected it in every way like an actor would, for the role of his life. She had eaten Durga, breathed Durga, insisted everyone call her Durga and now, today, she would become Guru Maa Durga.

She walked past the compound with a glazed look in her eye and shut the door. It was hours before she had to leave this room as Guru Maa Durga. She deliberately skipped looking at her picture in the newspaper. She flipped it around to read the little article under her photograph.

Guru Maa Durga was born in a village near Gurdaspur. As a child she was drawn to the teachings of Hindu traditions, spent most of her time in the Maa Kali temple and Shani Mandir as her entire family was a devout. At a young age, Guru Maa Durga was introduced to the world of spiritual practice in the famous Ashram Shraddha Swami, with influences of the Godwoman Rani Ma. Under her tutelage she honed her spiritual learning and dedicated her life to the Lord Shani. Her first public sermon itself has attracted politicians and actors and many prominent people as the fame of her grace and blessings spreads far and wide.

Rajjo read the little article three four times and carefully cut it out. She placed it in her cupboard. She was never going to lose it.

Rajjo stared in the mirror. She was Durga now. She wore a black sari with a thick red border. The colours and fabric draped her like a snakeskin. Rajjo smeared her face with carefully applied foundation. Lined her eyes with thick raven-coloured kohl, her eyes shining with a dangerous lustre. Thin string of Tulsi beads sheathed her neck and hands. Bit by bit as she wore her hair and make-up, bit by bit she fabricated a new shell to step into. Something she was going to live in for the rest of her life.