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The celestial river Ganga is described as sacred, exhausted, yet still a refuge for sinners. Her presence is a blessing in the worlds—flowing both div...
The lake, veiled with dirt and filled with ignorant lotuses and frogs, warns—do not trust what appears serene. Be wary of impurity hiding under beauty...
Somehow returning from exile, she brings uncertainty. Who can stop fate once it begins to unfold? No doors shut it out. A philosophical take on inevit...
In monsoon fragrance, she arrives at her beloved's door, hair wet, anklets muddy. Awaiting him, she stands shy, washing her feet—longing embodied in a...
Kamadeva spares no one—not even the young who merely glimpse such beauty. The beloved’s glance itself is a fatal blow. Even gods aren't immune to love...
My mind violently leaps from the body toward my father’s abode, pulled like a broken thread by a celestial nymph, as a swan tugs a lotus fiber. This i...
This woman is adept at all arts—her stage entry, refined education, and nuanced modulation of tone prove her mastery. To speak against her would be un...
If she is a mere creeper, how is she so enchanting? If she’s lightning, why bound to earth? What architect created such a dangerously alluring, fortre...
She walks gracefully, proud and smiling among friends—like a goddess accustomed to pleasure, yet she is merely a scholarly man’s wife. Irony intertwin...
She is Narmada, the river of joy—rippling through Vindhya’s stony embrace, a consort to wild tribes and sages alike. Her shores, shaded by playful tre...
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