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Sometimes even a dull child becomes noble. Just as old, discarded leaves fall, new flowers bloom elsewhere—rebirth is always possible.
Sometimes evil may lead to something good, but that doesn’t justify the evil act—outcome doesn’t purify intention.
Sometimes, she climbs high to peek at her beloved below. Sometimes she blushes when he looks up—love plays hide and seek.
“When shall I sit joyfully on your riverbank, free from fear, listening to Yamunā’s divine stories?” A devotee longs for peace and spiritual delight.
“When will I see Nanda’s son, the protector of all beings, with a glowing tilaka?” The ultimate darshan is yearned for by a true devotee.
O young maiden, your lips are like tender red petals, adorned with the gleam of pearly teeth. May I become like a bee, delighting in the nectar of you...
The Sun ascends higher, as if determined to dispel deep-rooted rumors of a maiden’s arrival—like a sage taking penance to purify falsehood. A poetic m...
When shall I lift my eyes to drink the beauty of her red lips and lotus-like face, like a fevered soul eagerly reaching for a healing elixir? The desi...
As their union becomes imminent, words fail. Realizing the moment of intimacy has come, the shy maiden closes her eyes like a play-lotus folding at du...
A wise person never trusts someone who speaks sweetly but lacks compassion—such a person is like poison mixed with jaggery, pleasing in taste but dead...
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