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If a mole lies on the right side of the back, mid-way across the spine—it predicts movement toward the east. An astrological omen.
You’ve gathered all the tear-pleas of birds, O cloud—but not dropped a single drop for them. A poetic condemnation of false hope.
He who never gets excluded from wedding feasts even in his 70s is clearly no scholar—but a butcher, for he feeds cows just to eat grass. A satire.
The beloved, holding a vibrant vine with one hand, places her trembling hand on her waist and lifts her foot—her bashful, deer-eyed expression evokes ...
She avoids my path, bowing her head, but glances back with smiling eyes that betray her hidden affection—those subtle glances pierce deeper than words...
Specific days like Chaturdashi, Panchadashi, and Ashtami are considered inauspicious for head oiling, meat-eating, and sexual union respectively—they ...
Among rulers across the directions, those closest in purpose prevail; others follow based on strength, and weakest remain subdued. A political strateg...
The artful lover, through gestures and eye-movements, ignites passion—his conduct enlivens Cupid himself.
Since creation, this Earth—nourished by countless offerings—is ultimately burned by the very beings she supported. Such is fate’s irony.
A man is described by his habits: if excessively addicted to wine, sour food, gossip, or odd physique—these reflect inner flaws.
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