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The warrior, sword drawn, moves across the battlefield like Death incarnate, equating his power to that of Yama, terrifying to his enemies.
The lake's water, swayed by vine-like arms of swimming women, stirs with gentle waves resembling their broad breasts and cheeks—a poetic vision of fem...
The sun does not set but lingers, entranced by the beauty of lotus maidens; twilight becomes a playful scene of newlywed emotion and celestial romance...
Krishna’s name, easily accessible to all including the lowest castes, brings immense blessings, liberation from sin, and control over the mind, needin...
Who stole your natural softness, O beloved? Your arm, like a tender lotus stalk, is a kingdom worthy of Love himself—someone has won your grace!
As you draw your serpent-like sword, O Ramachandra, may wild beasts and demons flee your enemy’s houses, fearing your divine fury.
In battle, when Rama draws his bow, the left hand mocks the right for hesitation; both arms humorously argue, showing divine readiness to destroy Rava...
In poetic play, Rama’s hands argue about precedence as they prepare to destroy Ravana’s heads—metaphorical for focused, divine coordination.
Krishna embraces Rukmini with childlike playfulness, pulling her garment, gazing coyly—divine love expressed through human-like affection.
Elephants stuck in mud can only be pulled out by mightier elephants—just as great souls alone can rescue those in deep distress.
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