Sri Meru: An Ancient GPS for the Human Journey
A Humanistic Reflection on the Sri Chakra
Many years ago, long before a physical Sri Meru entered my life, I found myself fascinated by the Sri Chakra. At the time, I was studying the Khadgamala and its many Devis. Rather than merely reading about them, I sat down with paper and pencil and painstakingly drew the Sri Chakra myself.
One by one, I marked the locations of the various Devis within the diagram, trying to understand the relationship between the sacred geometry and the litany of names. It was not easy. The Sri Chakra is intricate. The Devis seemed scattered throughout different enclosures and triangles.
I kept asking myself:
Why are they positioned where they are?
What is the relationship between geometry, consciousness and devotion?
At the time, I thought I was simply studying a sacred diagram. Looking back, I realize I was learning a map. I think I saw the pattern but not quite sure what they are.
Gathering the Puzzle Pieces
Around that same period, I was corresponding with Guru Amritananda Natha, the founder of Devipuram in Andhra Pradesh, India. Devipuram is unique because its temple architecture is based upon the Sri Meru itself, transforming a sacred diagram into a walkable spiritual landscape. What made Guru Amritananda Natha particularly fascinating was that he was also a physicist.
Here was someone equally comfortable discussing spiritual practice and scientific concepts. I remember receiving a CD from him containing extensive information about the Khadgamala and Sri Chakra.
As I studied the materials, I encountered explanations involving energy, creation, atoms, consciousness, and the profound symbolism hidden within the Sri Chakra. I was fascinated but also confused. The Sri Chakra. The Khadgamala. The Devis. The geometry. The physics. The consciousness. The ritual. All these seemed connected somehow, yet I was unable to see the complete picture. It felt like a giant puzzle whose pieces were scattered across different worlds. I knew the pieces belonged together. I simply could not see how.
Receiving the Sri Meru
Years later, my own guru handed me a Sri Meru. Not a picture or a book but actual Sri Meru. He explained that it had come to him through his guru and that he believed it was now time for him to pass it on to me. Naturally, I accepted it. After all, who argues with a guru? Honestly I never expect the Sri Meru will make its way into my home.
Some time later, my guru visited my home and personally conducted the first Sri Chakra puja. I sat quietly and observed every step. The movements, the offerings, the invocations, the structure of the worship, all of it became etched into my memory. Yet a question remained. What exactly was I supposed to do with this Sri Meru? I knew many practitioners conducted daily worship. I knew the Sri Chakra occupied a central place within the Sri Vidya tradition.
But if I am completely honest, I was never sure I possessed the discipline required for elaborate daily ritual practice. Eventually, the Sri Meru found its place in my husband's puja room, and over time he became the one who worshipped it in his own way.
Meanwhile, I continued to wonder. What exactly is the Sri Chakra? Why has it survived for centuries? Why have generations of gurus treasured it so deeply? What was I failing to see?
Lost in Kuala Lumpur
Then one day, many years later, something unexpected happened. I was driving in Kuala Lumpur and got lost. Not spiritually lost. Literally lost. Like most people today, I reached for my phone and switched on the GPS. Within seconds, the GPS showed me where I was, where I needed to go, and how to return to a familiar road.
As I followed the directions, a strange thought suddenly appeared in my mind. The Sri Meru is a GPS. The thought caught me by surprise. At first, it sounded ridiculous. But the more I reflected upon it, the more it made sense.
A GPS does not create roads. A GPS does not drive your vehicle. A GPS simply helps you navigate. It tells you where you are. It tells you where you want to go. And it helps you find your way. What if the Sri Chakra serves a similar purpose?
Seeing the Sri Chakra Through a Humanistic Lens
Traditionally, the Sri Chakra is regarded as the abode of Lalita Tripurasundari, the Divine Mother. It is worshipped as a sacred manifestation of the Goddess and occupies a central place within the Sri Vidya tradition. I respect and honor that understanding.
Yet over the years, another possibility gradually emerged for me. What if the Sri Chakra can also be viewed through a humanistic lens? What if the Sri Chakra is one of humanity's most sophisticated symbolic technologies for understanding consciousness?
When viewed this way, the Sri Chakra begins to look less like a static religious symbol and more like a navigational system. The various Devis become landmarks. The avaranas become territories. The Khadgamala becomes an itinerary. The journey toward the bindu becomes a journey toward the deepest center of one's being. The Sri Chakra begins to resemble a map of human development.
Recognising a Familiar Landscape
On one occasion, I found myself chatting online with a Malay shaman. During the conversation, I began describing the Khadgamala and some of the experiences associated with the Sri Chakra tradition. To my surprise, he seemed remarkably familiar with what I was talking about.
In fact, he appeared puzzled that I knew these things at all. Wanting to explain further, I shared some images associated with the Khadgamala tradition, including depictions similar to those used in the teachings of Guru Amritananda Natha at Devipuram. His reaction was immediate. What struck me was not his surprise at the imagery itself, but the feeling that he recognised something deeper behind it. The language was different. The symbols were different. The cultural context was different.
Yet there seemed to be a shared recognition of certain energies, states of consciousness, and inner experiences. That conversation left me wondering whether traditions often use different maps to describe the same territory. Perhaps this is why mystical traditions from different parts of the world sometimes recognise each other despite using very different symbols and vocabulary.
Tantra as a Technology of Self-Development
In previous writings, I have described Tantra as a form of indigenous humanism and as a technology of self-development. By technology, I do not mean machines or electronics. I mean tools developed by human beings to help address human challenges. Language is a technology. Writing is a technology. Maps are technologies. Perhaps Tantra is also a technology. A technology of consciousness. A set of tools designed to help human beings understand themselves, transform themselves, and navigate the complexities of existence. Within this framework, the Sri Chakra becomes a navigational instrument. A symbolic GPS for the inner journey.
Why Are the Devis Scattered?
One question had puzzled me for years. Why were the Devis distributed throughout the Sri Chakra in such a seemingly complex way? Why not arrange them in a neat sequence? Over time, I began to suspect that the answer lies within human experience itself.
Human growth is not linear. We do not overcome fear once and for all. We do not resolve desire once and move on forever. We revisit the same themes repeatedly throughout our lives: desire attachment fear power love wisdom identity
The same energies return at deeper and subtler levels. Life itself unfolds in spirals rather than straight lines. Possibility that the Sri Chakra reflects this reality?. Rather than functioning as a staircase, it functions more like a living ecosystem of consciousness. The map is not showing a straight road. It is showing a landscape.
The Puzzle Continues
Looking back now, I can see how the puzzle gradually assembled itself over the years. First came the drawings. Then the Khadgamala. Then Guru Amritananda Natha. Then the physics. Then the Sri Meru. Then my guru's puja. Then years of observation. Then a wrong turn in Kuala Lumpur. One piece at a time.
Today, I feel I can finally see a much larger picture than I could before. Not the complete picture. Just a larger one. There are still pieces missing. There are still mysteries waiting to be explored. There are still questions that remain unanswered. But perhaps that is the true gift of the Sri Chakra. It is not merely something to be studied. It is not merely something to be worshipped. It is something to be journeyed through.
And like every meaningful map, it reveals itself gradually, one step at a time, as we travel. Perhaps the greatest lesson the Sri Meru has taught me is that understanding does not arrive all at once. It unfolds over a lifetime.
Just as a GPS helps us find our way through unfamiliar roads, the Sri Chakra may help us navigate the equally mysterious terrain of human consciousness.
And in the end, both are concerned with the same thing: Helping us find our way home.
Epilogue: A Question Answered
About a year after my guru passed away, a group of us gathered at his home to reminisce and share memories. As often happens during such gatherings, the conversation wandered from one story to another.
At one point, one of the senior brothers suddenly asked: "Guruji had a Sri Meru that came from his guru. Does anyone know where it is now?"
For a moment, everyone looked at each other. Even Guruji's wife shook her head and said she was not entirely sure.
I sat quietly. For a few moments, I said nothing. Then, in a soft voice, I replied: "It's with me."
The room became silent. Several faces turned towards me. I could sense a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Until that moment, I do not think many of them realized that Guruji had entrusted the Sri Meru to me years earlier. Then someone spoke. "Rightly so. You were his first sisya."
The conversation moved on, but the moment stayed with me.
As I sat there listening to everyone speak, I suddenly realized that the Sri Meru was no longer merely an object sitting in a puja room. It was part of a lineage. A journey that began before me and will likely continue long after me.
And that is another reason why the Sri Chakra continues to fascinate me. It is not just a symbol. It is not just a ritual object. It is not even just a map. It is a living inheritance. Like the keris I inherited from my father.
For years, I thought I was trying to understand the Sri Meru. Perhaps the truth is that the Sri Meru was patiently teaching me how to understand myself. The puzzle is still not complete. There are still pieces waiting to be discovered.
But today, when I look upon the Sri Meru, I no longer ask: "What am I supposed to do with this?"
Instead, I find myself asking: "Where is it leading me next?" And that is exactly what a good map is supposed to do.
September 2026
