Page 137 of 1110
The traveler avoided the humming bees and fragrant flowers fearing bad omens—how superstition can blind us to joy and beauty.
For each of our sufferings—fatigue, longing, requests, and aging—there is a purpose. If not acknowledged, what was the point of our struggles?
A weary, unknown guest arrives hungry and thirsty. If we don't honor them with devotion, we are called slayers of divinity.
Even if someone on the rough road appears weak and burdened, they might be more capable than someone seemingly impressive—true worth is in action.
For the body, age is decay; for mountains, water is decay; for women, abstinence is decay; for the mind, silence is decay. Each has its own end.
For humans, journey brings old age; for horses, idleness; for women, lack of intimacy; for stallions, too much. Balance is key to preservation.
The Sun rises like a great charioteer pulling the long weary world with a golden wheel across directions—symbolizing endurance and purpose.
If a path has no mud or attachment, where can true skill or strength be revealed? Tests reveal worth.
Wise people penetrate an enemy’s house without causing direct offense—suggesting that intellect often supersedes brute force.
O Goddess of Speech! Protect me. You are unlettered yet your form pours immortal nectar through the 50 sacred sounds—beauty of formless expression.
Help us expand this library of wisdom! If you know a Shloka or Subhashitam that isn't yet featured, please share it with our community.
Submit Your ShlokaYour contributions are greatly appreciated. 🙏