Mars does not wait for events to resolve themselves. It intervenes, often before others have finished explaining what needs to be done. Mangal and the Impulse to Act In Vedic astrology, Mangal, or Mars, is the fiery planet of action. It signifies blood, bone marrow, muscles, physical strength, courage, weapons, warfare, competition, command, land and the instinct to confront danger. It governs the body’s capacity to act and the mind’s urge to respond. Strong and disciplined, Mars produces bravery, stamina, initiative and leadership. When uncontrolled, however, the same force can manifest as anger, aggression, haste and disproportionate reactions. Mars is, therefore, best understood as utaavli urja: energy impatient to express itself. It does not merely contemplate danger; it moves towards it. It dislikes delay, prolonged consultation and elaborate preparation. It may begin acting before the instructions are complete, trusting courage and improvisation to resolve whatever complications arise. In an emergency, this instinct can save lives. In a sensitive operation, however, it can change the entire outcome. Those strongly influenced by Mars are often in a great hurry. Note-taking, written planning, risk assessment and lists of dos and don’ts may strike them as unnecessary delays. Their philosophy is simple: “Let us reach the spot first; we shall decide the rest there.” This may explain Hanuman’s special place in the emotional world of the police. Across northern India, Hanuman temples stand within numerous police stations, almost as naturally as the armoury and parade ground. Policemen seek from him not merely physical strength, but also the courage to enter situations from which everyone else wants to escape. Sita was Rama’s wife, and Ravana had abducted her. Hanuman was related to neither by blood. Yet he crossed the ocean and entered the enemy’s kingdom. Why? Because courageous power cannot remain a spectator when injustice occurs. That instinct lies at the heart of policing. Two people quarrel, and the police intervene. A woman is assaulted within her home, and the police enter what others may regard as a private matter. A child disappears, a shop is looted or a neighbourhood erupts in violence, and an officer with no personal stake in the dispute assumes responsibility for restoring order. The victim’s fear becomes his concern; society’s conflict becomes his duty. Like Hanuman, the policeman repeatedly enters battles that are not his own, accepting responsibility for situations from which others might retreat. Sent to Find Sita, Not to Burn Lanka Yet the episode in Lanka contains a deeper and more enigmatic lesson. Hanuman had been sent to locate Sita, ascertain her condition and return with reliable information. He had not been sent to burn Lanka. But the mission escalated. Hanuman destroyed the Ashoka grove, confronted Ravana’s forces and entered the royal court. When his tail was set aflame, he turned his punishment into a devastating counterstroke. A reconnaissance mission became an armed confrontation, an exercise in psychological warfare and, ultimately, the burning of a city. Sent to search, he ended up setting Lanka ablaze. This is Mangal in its most compelling and potentially dangerous form: courageous, decisive and effective, yet capable of carrying an operation far beyond its original mandate. There is something unmistakably Martian about the subordinate who begins acting while the senior officer is still explaining the assignment. Before the order is complete, the vehicle has been summoned, the force assembled and the operation launched. The objective remains unwritten, the limits undefined and the consequences unexamined. The Mars-driven mind regards hesitation as weakness and assumes that every problem will reveal its solution once action begins. Such initiative can save precious time and prevent tragedy. But it can also send a police party into the field with enormous energy and inadequate clarity about its authority, purpose or exit strategy. An officer sent merely to verify a complaint may begin detaining suspects. A force ordered to disperse a crowd may pursue it far beyond the trouble spot. A routine enquiry may become a public confrontation; a preventive deployment may turn punitive. The intention may be sincere and the immediate result impressive, yet the excess can embarrass senior officers, the government and the institution itself. Mars may complete the mission, only to rewrite its terms. None of this diminishes Hanuman’s greatness. His actions arose from courage, intelligence, loyalty and absolute commitment to Rama’s cause. The burning of Lanka also delivered a powerful warning to Ravana about the force ranged against him. Nevertheless, the episode illustrates why extraordinary energy must remain anchored to a clear purpose. Initiative may save a situation; without restraint, it may magnify the very conflict it was intended to contain. Bhima and Duryodhana: Force Versus Ego The Mahabharata offers another contrast through Bhima and Duryodhana. Neither is a direct personification of Mars, but both embody strikingly Martian qualities. They are immensely strong, fearless, competitive, quick to anger and formidable masters of the mace. Their rivalry demonstrates how similar physical power can produce radically different consequences, depending on the purpose that directs it. Bhima’s strength is largely directed towards protecting his family, answering humiliation and resisting oppression. His anger, though fierce and sometimes excessive, is exercised in pursuit of a cause greater than himself. Duryodhana possesses comparable courage, endurance and warrior skill. Yet his power becomes increasingly governed by rivalry, entitlement and wounded pride. Bhima represents force in the service of a cause; Duryodhana represents force in the service of ego. The distinction is crucial for policing. The uniform confers authority, just as the mace gave both warriors power. But authority alone cannot determine how that power is exercised. Guided by duty, an officer becomes a protector. Governed by anger, prejudice, ambition or personal pride, he may begin to resemble the aggressor he was appointed to restrain. Hanuman Leaps; Kartikeya Commands Kartikeya represents another dimension of martial energy. If Hanuman symbolises courageous intervention and spontaneous initiative, Kartikeya, commander of the divine forces, represents training, intelligence, formation, strategy, hierarchy and command. Effective policing requires both. It needs Hanuman’s courage to respond without fear and Kartikeya’s discipline to define the objective, assess the terrain, allocate responsibility, anticipate consequences and prepare an exit strategy. One creates momentum; the other ensures that it reaches the intended destination. Astrology conveys a similar warning through symbolism. A strong and well-placed Mars may bestow courage, stamina, initiative and leadership. When severely afflicted, particularly through difficult associations with Saturn, Rahu or Ketu, courage may turn into cruelty, impatience into rashness, authority into intimidation and bravery into notoriety. The same hand that protects may begin to oppress. The Hanuman temple within a police station, therefore, carries a meaning deeper than ritual. Hanuman is not invoked merely to give the police the strength to overpower criminals. His example also reminds those who wield force that strength is sacred only when exercised in the service of a just cause, in defence of the vulnerable and under the discipline of a higher duty. Mars Supplies the Fire Police work inevitably demands utaavli urja. A delayed response may cost a life. An officer cannot deliberate indefinitely before rescuing a child, stopping an assault or confronting an armed offender. But urgency is no substitute for clarity, and speed does not excuse a failure to understand the assignment. A few moments spent clarifying the objective, recording critical instructions, defining the dos and don’ts and anticipating consequences may prevent hours of confusion and years of institutional embarrassment. The finest officer must carry fire in the limbs, law in the mind, strategy in the head and restraint in the hand. Mars says, ‘Enter the conflict.’ Bhima says, ‘Use your strength against injustice.’ Duryodhana warns, ‘Never allow strength to become the servant of ego.’ Kartikeya says, ‘Plan, organise and respect command.’ Hanuman says, ‘Act fearlessly, but never forget the purpose for which you were sent.’ For when Mangal wears khaki, the challenge is not merely to awaken its tremendous energy. The greater challenge is to direct that energy, discipline it and know precisely where it must stop. (Dr Shailendra Srivastava is a retired IPS officer and former Director General of Police. He writes on policing, law, mythology, spirituality, wildlife and public affairs)
