Since I have no other way
And am in utmost need,
Painter girl,
I filch one of the eight lambs
You have made plump with
Green jackfruit leaves and
Thin gruel with paddy bran.

I will take it to the goat market
And sell it in a jiffy.

I assure you
I will not sell it
To any butcher-
The lamb you made chubby
With sweet sweet words
And much much petting
And nice lilting croons,
Mixing and mixing
Greens with browns.


Don’t be sad, painter girl.
I hear you come running
Searching for your lamb and
Cry out “O my dearest one
Who went grazing in the green fields,”
As the sun in your canvas
Sets in the sea and
The saffron blends with the dusk.
And, see your tears mingle
With the black that you wanted
To adorn the brow of
The naughtiest of them.

Painter girl,
It’s all because I have no other go
And it’s of utmost need.
I could have broken into the
Two-storeyedhouse you sketched
And stolen the ornaments in
Secret lockers that even
You are unaware of.

Or, I could have
Palmed the golden girdle
Of the beautiful ***** princess
Whose portrait you made,
The one with a nose stud.
Or, drugged her with my kisses
And plundered the harem.

Or else, I could have
Entered the snake shrine
Guarded by the dark serpents
That you often drew
And fled the country with
The precious jewel.

Or, I could have shot down
The birds that you drew
And sold them grilled.

I could have axed down the
Mahagony trees you nurtured
And sold them as timber.
I could have blinded your Kanhaiah
And made him a beggar
To become rich from the alms he earned.
I could have enslavened his Gopis
And handed them over
To the red light streets.

Painter girl,
It’s not for anything of this sort.
I take just one of your eight lambs.
Sell it for a good price
And fulfill my need.

Now, perchance,
If a new tenant comes to rent
My brain where nothing resides
And if they pay me a fat advance,
Painter girl,
Surely will I buy back your lamb.
And tether it in your painting.
Don’t you dare say then
Don’t you say then
That you have forgotten it.
Don’t you say then
You have exhausted your stock of
Green jackfruit leaves.


(Trans from Malayalam by Ra Sh)

I am a banyan(vatavriksha)
Standing like
The guardian figure
At the gateway of the village
Oh you thought
The champakas,rajanigandhas
Were envious of me
No,no
I am an old one
Seen some hundred summers
And winters
Children and tots
Playing merrily
In my cool shade
On a hot summer afternoon
The river near me
I daily see
Carries timelessness
Just like me
Lovers passionate
Passing on boats
Even in floods of fury
Dreaming of being
Radha Krishna
And gopis
What not
Do I see
Oh pralaya(destruction)
Did see Krishna
Floating away
On one of my leaves!
A baby ******* his toe
Untouched by any worry
My leaves are heart shaped
I do touch hearts of men
Read their minds
Some robust like me
Some weak
I wish to stand here
Endlessly
For just like holy kadamba
Under which Krishna gave gopis
Aatmananda(joy of self-conscience)
Rich with its divine glory
I am but a mere banyan tree!

my darling krsna,

isn't it time
to put away
that decorated flute
of yours?

knowing well
this is where
soulful melodies
which sustain
the rhythm of the universe
emanates from

let the birds stop singing
the gopis stop dancing
the stars stop shining
and the universe stop expanding

from here on
you belong
to me alone...

eternally yours,

radha

© 2017

Kanna: the tamil equivalent of the words baby/ sayang/ honey/ bunny/ sugarplum/ puffy yummy yum.

There is nothing sweeter than calling a loved one Kanna— the god of love, another name for Krishna.

Krishna's love encompasses the entire spectrum of this beautiful feeling – love for his foster mother Yashoda, for his brother Balaram, love for gopis and for Radha.

Imagine meeting someone so wholesome you want to call them Kanna.

Kartinee Mageswaran

Since I have no other way
And am in utmost need,
Painter girl,
I filch one of the eight lambs
You have made plump with
Green jack fruit leaves and
Thin gruel with paddy bran.

I will take it to the goat market
And sell it in a jiffy.

I assure you
I will not sell it
To any butcher-
The lamb you made chubby
With sweet sweet words
And much much petting
And nice lilting croons,
Mixing and mixing
Greens with browns.

Don’t be sad, painter girl.
I hear you come running
Searching for your lamb and
Cry out “O my dearest one
Who went grazing in the green fields,”
As the sun in your canvas
Sets in the sea and
The saffron blends with the dusk.
And, see your tears mingle
With the black that you wanted
To adorn the brow of
The naughtiest of them.

Painter girl,
It’s all because I have no other go
And it’s of utmost need.
I could have broken into the
Two-storeyed house you sketched
And stolen the ornaments in
Secret lockers that even
You are unaware of.

Or, I could have
Palmed the golden girdle
Of the beautiful ***** princess
Whose portrait you made,
The one with a nose stud.
Or, drugged her with my kisses
And plundered the harem.

Or else, I could have
Entered the snake shrine
Guarded by the dark serpents
That you often drew
And fled the country with
The precious jewel.

Or, I could have shot down
The birds that you drew
And sold them grilled.

I could have axed down the
Mahagony trees you nurtured
And sold them as timber.
I could have blinded your Kanhaiah
And made him a beggar
To become rich from the alms he earned.
I could have enslaved his Gopis
And handed them over
To the red light streets.

Painter girl,
It’s not for anything of this sort.
I take just one of your eight lambs.
Sell it for a good price
And fulfil my need.

Now, perchance,
If a new tenant comes to rent
My brain where nothing resides
And if they pay me a fat advance,
Painter girl,
Surely will I buy back your lamb.
And tether it in your painting.
Don’t you dare say then
Don’t you say then
That you have forgotten it.
Don’t you say then
You have exhausted your stock of
Green jack fruit leaves.

HAPPY JANMASHTAMI to all my friends.

Born  was Krishna, specially to destroy evil
Killed and conquered He Kans; and many a devil.

Also born He was, to love and happiness spread.
That's why, Radha's name before Him, is always read.

An example fine, of Friendship with Gop, Gopis n Sudama, He set .
Draupadi saved He, when Pandavas, her wongly did bet.

An ideal to follow, for all these above things, He was.
Actions, our own Karma, of happiness or sadness is the cause.

If we humans, followed these examples of His;
Wouldn't wonderful be this world; simply filled with bliss ?

Armin Dutia Motashaw

HAPPY JANMASHTAMI to all my friends.

Born  was Krishna, specially to destroy evil
Killed and conquered He Kans; and many a devil.

Also born He was, to love and happiness spread.
That's why, Radha's name before Him, is always read.

An example fine, of Friendship with Gop, Gopis n Sudama, He set .
Draupadi saved He, when Pandavas, her wongly did bet.

An ideal to follow, for all these above things, He was.
Actions, our own Karma, of happiness or sadness is the cause.

If we humans, followed these examples of His;
Wouldn't wonderful be this world; simply filled with bliss ?

Armin Dutia Motashaw

Show me the limit of love
Is it boundless as a cosmic sea of nothingness,
containing the void of all existence?
Show me an end to love
Does it penetrate all Being,
and I, a part of the whole am taken by its force like a speck of dust in the wind - blown

When the last finger slips the grip, trembling wet with exhaustion,
Will you still reach for me as my own heart reaches for you?

Even as my mind recoils at the thought
And reason rebels at the flawed logic contained within the futility of the last man standing
ambushed, surrounded, bloodied, brave, body quaking, vibrating with manic energy, eyes showering hot tears, posturing proudly, ripping a tattered shirt open exposing a naked chest to a thousand piercing arrows descending,
pounding the skin with a defiant fist in tired rage, unleashing a wild yell, swallowing life and death
He has reached the temple and tasted the wine
laid with gopis
smiled and grunted with monastic pleasure
laughed and welcomed the universe with wide open eyes

And yet, he is a fish tethered to an unbreakable line
pulling away from shore into the open ocean
endlessly swimming, dragging the weight of history
pulling and pulled
the line slacks
the fish desires the pull again
No matter, the proofs are on the chalkboard
unbalanced equations mixed with shifting solutions
dry lips gone beyond explanation
Indigo wild mixed with cinnamon and spent wicks
burnt sage, smoke filled rooms
cleansing the impure surrounding us
hands full of stones
quiet mysteries filled with fingers pointing to jupiter
mouths whistling to saturn
ink dripping under the weight of egoic worlds
squeezed as a juiced fruit
the essence becoming free as a bare foot on the earthen floor
Now, call forth the highest self and scream into the vastness of space,
LET IT GO,
the lower jaw slides forward channeling the full force of passion masking the upper mandible with unrelenting desperation to clean the spiritual house,
turn it over and reel out the dirt,
throw open the curtains and drench it all in sunlight
We are the manifestation of Destiny!
We are the descendants of Myths and Legends!
and no matter where we turn this fact is inescapable,
every corner commands us to seize the nectar and drink it down, uniting with the purpose to resonate
The ten ton weight stretching thin our souls must be released, sinking into the trenches of our past
as we bravely challenge the ravages of time and change and heartache incessant in this animal existence
Realizing infinite waters, diving deep!
Crashing through the moment
spinning, coming to the center of the universe,
it is my own perspective transcended

the past is a pack of hungry dogs forever nipping at my moving feet,
reminding the bitter cost of looking back

Gopi Eyes
Tears cling like dew
long Kohl black milkmaid lashes
Sweep hills, dales, softly tapered pastel slopes of Whitefield
Searching for a long-stemmed glimpse

Orange rose of Brindavin
When will you appear again...
Sai Krishna?

We scan the amber heavens
Each golden cloud holds the promise
Of a new era and the sweetness of peace in its womb

O treasure of the Gopis
brilliant sun petals
are strewn across
roads and highways
candles float upon rivers and lakes
even the Sea keeps a shimmering vigil

For that hour, for that moment
When earth and sky melt away
And Gopi eyes awaken
Forever