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The southern breeze, fragrant with mango flowers and the sound of sweet koels, seems to gently ask the lovesick heart if it can now endure love’s feve...
Living by the river, attending gatherings, and constant displays of purity—such is the theatrical life of a hypocrite cloaked in false virtue.
The singer is drowned out not by fault, but by incessant cheers, loud boasts, and exaggerated praise—illustrating how empty noise kills true art.
A jackfruit, sweet-smelling at first and inviting, turns bitter and prickly when accepted—symbolizing how what begins sweet can end in rejection and i...
The brahmins celebrate invitations, cows delight in fresh grass, women take joy in their husbands’ success—but I, Krishna, celebrate only the joy of b...
I invited you, O Lord, and if it served no purpose, then let this oath stand! Like fire, the harshness of truth scorches—truth is deity itself.
The churning rod is Mount Mandara, Vasuki the rope, and the ocean itself a pot of nectar. Now, in the friction of divine arms, the gods and demons chu...
Weak kings, fearing dishonor or shame, punish even the innocent who merely followed orders—highlighting tyranny and misplaced blame.
Even unto death, crows try to outcry peacocks. The miserable fail to see that mere sound is not music.
She bruises the red lotus bud with her hands, intending to place a dot on her lover's forehead, but instead it becomes a fragrant smear of love.
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