Kali much rice

Kali much rice

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  Kesar Kali is not a goddess for the faint. She dances barefoot across fields of rice, her anklets jingling the rhythm of dissolution. Her sari stained in saffron and blood, she stirs the cosmos with a ladle carved from the bone of ignorance. Each stir adds fire to the rice. Each fire births a world. Her rice is not food — it is transformation.

  
  

 

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