r/Tantra

Those who want to do sadhna and in a ritualistic accurate way. This pdf may help you with it. It contains most important steps which need to be done in any of the sadhnas. 8 steps are there. Anyone can use this source . 🙏. Jai shree hari .

Adding google drive link here..

https://drive.google.com/file/d/106xX2A3yVTyb\\\_0WLoqwjXJEy5bkicOgH/view?usp=drivesdk

Posting again as previous was dlted.

Yesterday night i was trying to find people on reddit.

So met this guy and started chatting with him..

He told me everything what i have been suffering from in my life without even knowing my name or birth details. How is this possible? Which type of sadhana has he done? Anyone else who is such sadhak?

A saint visits my home every two or three months and always asks for ₹200. If I give him only ₹50, he becomes angry and sometimes tries to curse me. What should I do in this situation? According to Hindu shastra, how should I handle this situation?

There is a misunderstanding about Tantra that deserves deeper examination.
Tantra is often approached through the language of power — mantra, siddhi, Shakti, initiation, ritual, transformation and extraordinary states of consciousness.
But after years of observing practice, I have come to a different question:
What if Tantra is not primarily testing how much power a person can acquire, but revealing what happens to that person in the presence of power?
This distinction matters.
A person may learn a mantra without understanding his own desire.
He may perform a ritual without understanding his fear.
He may seek Shakti without examining why he wants power.
He may pursue extraordinary experiences without asking what ordinary part of himself is trying to escape ordinary life.
In that sense, practice can become a mirror.
And sometimes the mirror is more important than the experience.
Power does not automatically produce wisdom.
If someone becomes more confident through practice, what happens to that confidence?
Does it become responsibility?
Or superiority?
If someone experiences something extraordinary, does the experience make the person quieter and clearer?
Or does it create a new identity:
“I am someone who has experienced what others have not.”
If a practitioner develops greater discipline, does that discipline create freedom?
Or does it become another instrument through which the practitioner judges everyone else?
These questions are uncomfortable because they move the discussion away from technique and toward the practitioner.
And the practitioner may be the most difficult part of Tantra to examine.
The ego can learn spiritual language.
It can learn Sanskrit.
It can memorise mantras.
It can understand complex philosophical systems.
It can speak beautifully about non-duality.
It can collect initiations.
It can even construct an identity around renunciation.
Yet beneath all of this, the fundamental structure of fear, attachment, insecurity and the desire for recognition may remain almost untouched.
This creates an important paradox:
A person can accumulate spiritual knowledge without undergoing equivalent spiritual transformation.
The external vocabulary changes.
The internal architecture may not.
This is why I find the relationship between Tantra and power so interesting.
Before power, we can imagine ourselves to be humble.
Before recognition, we can imagine ourselves to be detached from recognition.
Before authority, we can imagine ourselves incapable of abusing authority.
Before extraordinary experience, we can imagine that extraordinary experience would automatically make us wise.
But imagination is not a test.
Contact is the test.
What happens when the practitioner actually encounters intensity, influence, fear, devotion, unusual states or a profound sense of inner power?
What becomes visible then?
Perhaps Tantra does not simply introduce something new into the practitioner.
Perhaps it also magnifies what was already there.
Discipline may become stronger.
But ambition may also become stronger.
Devotion may deepen.
But dependency may also deepen.
Courage may emerge.
But so may spiritual arrogance.
The practice itself therefore cannot always be judged merely by the intensity of the experiences it produces.
We must also observe the human being emerging from those experiences.
Imagine two practitioners.
One speaks constantly about extraordinary experiences, visions, energies and accomplishments.
Another has fewer dramatic stories, but over the years becomes less reactive, less frightened, more disciplined, more perceptive and more capable of remaining stable under pressure.
Which practitioner has travelled further?
I do not think this question has a simple universal answer.
Different Tantric traditions understandably define attainment differently.
But the question itself is worth keeping alive.
Because experience and transformation are not necessarily the same thing.
An experience can happen in a moment.
Transformation must survive the moment.
There is another layer.
When a person begins practice, he often thinks he is observing Tantra.
He studies the mantra.
He studies the deity.
He studies the yantra.
He studies ritual procedure.
He studies philosophy.
But after sufficient time, something can reverse:
the practice begins revealing the practitioner to himself.
His impatience becomes visible.
His fear becomes visible.
His need for validation becomes visible.
His fantasies about power become visible.
His relationship with authority becomes visible.
His attachment to being “advanced” becomes visible.
Even his desire for liberation may have hidden motives beneath it.
At that point, Tantra is no longer merely something being practised.
It has become a method of seeing.
And what is seen is not always comfortable.
Perhaps this is one reason genuine transformation can be difficult.
Human beings generally prefer acquiring something new to losing an illusion about themselves.
Acquiring a mantra can feel like progress.
Acquiring knowledge can feel like progress.
Acquiring an initiation can feel like progress.
Acquiring an extraordinary experience can certainly feel like progress.
But seeing through one's own self-deception may feel like loss.
Yet that loss may contain a deeper form of transformation.
So when I think about power in Tantra, I increasingly find myself asking not:
“How much power can this practice give?”
but:
“What does the pursuit, experience or presence of power reveal about the person seeking it?”
Does practice make fear more visible?
Does it make desire more conscious?
Does it expose attachment?
Does it strengthen discernment?
Does it increase responsibility?
Does it make the practitioner more stable in ordinary life?
Or does it simply construct a more sophisticated spiritual identity around the same unresolved human tendencies?
Perhaps one of Tantra's deepest transformations begins when the practitioner stops asking only:
“What can Tantra give me?”
and begins asking:
“What is Tantra revealing about me?”
I am interested in how practitioners from different Tantric traditions understand this distinction between power, experience and transformation.

Today is the 5th day of my period, and I’ve already washed my head twice in the last five days.

Today is also a Grahan and Rajashri Nandy Sir has given a specific sadhana to do. I wanted to ask whether I can perform it while I’m still on my period. Would doing it cause any spiritual complication according to traditional Bhairava/Tantric practices?

If the formal sadhana is not advisable during menstruation can I at least do maansik japa of the mantra, like “Om Bhairavaya Namah”? Or do the sadhana advice by Rajashri Nandy Sir ?

Is Bhairava independently worshiped/ viewed has Paradevatha?

I’m 27F, and I’ve been thinking about this dilemma for quite some time. I’d really appreciate perspectives from people who actually practise Tantra/Sadhana, rather than just general dating advice.

I do genuinely crave love, companionship, romance and eventually a lifelong relationship. I have dated men, but a recurring issue has been that they had been physically involved with other people before me. I find that difficult to accept. It doesn’t make me feel good, and I’m not really capable of taking the attitude of “it doesn’t matter, it’s all in the past.”

Ideally, I would want physical intimacy with only one person, who would ultimately be my life partner, and I would want the same from him. Part of this is simply my personal emotional nature, but another part comes from how I understand karma.

There is this idea that as we become more conscious and move towards the Divine, we should try to minimise unnecessary karmic entanglements. Intimacy can create psychological, emotional and perhaps karmic bonds, so I’ve wondered whether being very selective about it is actually aligned with spiritual progress.

At the same time, I’m beginning to wonder whether this ideal is becoming a limitation for me.

I’ve had opportunities for relationships and have walked away from them because they didn’t fit this particular condition. Now I sometimes wonder whether I’m unnecessarily denying myself the experience of love, companionship and life because I’m trying so hard to avoid something that may not actually have the spiritual consequences I imagine it does.

So I’m caught between two thoughts:

“If I know what I want and believe it is spiritually meaningful, why compromise?”

and

“Am I turning a spiritual principle into a psychological attachment of my own?”

For those of you who practise Tantra or have studied these traditions seriously, how would you look at this?

Is sexual/romantic involvement with another person actually considered a significant karmic entanglement in the Tantric framework? Does having multiple partners necessarily create obstacles on the spiritual path, or is the intention and consciousness with which intimacy happens more important?

And if you were in my position, would you hold firmly to this ideal, or allow yourself to experience relationships and trust that spiritual discernment can coexist with them?

I’m genuinely confused and would love to hear how practitioners understand this.

I’m planning a trip to Tarapith (and possibly Kalighat) for some serious spiritual guidance related to a personal relationship matter. I’ve heard these places are powerful for Tantra, but I also know there are a lot of scammers and fake “babas” there.

I’m not looking for quick fixes or “guaranteed results” – I want to find someone who actually knows authentic Tantra and can guide me properly.

What I’m looking for:

· How to test if a tantrik is genuine? (I’ve heard about “past reading” – does that actually work?)

· What specific red flags should I watch out for?

· Are there any trusted signs of a real sadhak (like specific clothing, behaviour, or location – e.g., shamshan area)?

· Is it better to go to Tarapith or Kalighat for relationship-related Tantra?

What I’m NOT looking for:

· DMs offering services (I will ignore them)

· Online tantriks or “pay me now” types

· Anyone who guarantees 100% results in 3 days

If you’ve had genuine experience with a practitioner in these places, I’d appreciate practical tips on how to find and test them – not names/contacts, just the process.

Thanks in advance. Jai Maa Tara. 🙏

I did my aura scanning from a well known person. He told me my third eye is open but I need to work on it and I have sukshma Siddhi. My heart chakra is active as well but my Svadhisthanal chakra is imbalanced. He disconnected the call immediately after giving this information.

I do not know what he meant with working on third eye of it's active. What is Sukshma Siddhi which he told me I have inside me.

can anyone help me in this path. I have been doing mantra jaap regularly with a proper procedure.

I'd really appreciate any insights or resources. Thank you

It's for people chanting some mantra or stotra but still facing fear in the world or a lack of confidence.

Try to visualise your deity with you. When you are going somewhere, assume that the deity of your mantra is walking along with you.

Don't overdo it. Try it a few times in the beginning.