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"hindu" poems
Unbiased at least he was when he arrived on his mission, Having never set eyes on the land he was called to partition Between two peoples fanatically at odds, With their different diets and incompatible gods. "Time," they had briefed him in London, "is short. It's too late For mutual reconciliation or rational debate: The only solution now lies in separation. The Viceroy thinks, as you will see from his letter, That the less you are seen in his company the better, So we've arranged to provide you with other accommodation. We can give you four judges, two Moslem and two Hindu, To consult with, but the final decision must rest with you." Shut up in a lonely mansion, with police night and day Patrolling the gardens to keep the assassins away, He got down to work, to the task of settling the fate Of millions. The maps at his disposal were out of date And the Census Returns almost certainly incorrect, But there was no time to check them, no time to inspect Contested areas. The weather was frightfully hot, And a bout of dysentery kept him constantly on the trot, But in seven weeks it was done, the frontiers decided, A continent for better or worse divided. The next day he sailed for England, where he could quickly forget The case, as a good lawyer must. Return he would not, Afraid, as he told his Club, that he might get shot.
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31.6k
Partition
Dal Lake I float on Dal Lake Suspended between the thick soupy crisp air of soldiers water lilies, Kashmiri bread and the Muslim prayers that penetrate the hardness of war chanting Allah Bismallah Floating Islam Holy words drenching the air Drenching the green cloth of Hindu soldiers Sliding down the cool metal of a rifle 9 years of war 1,000 houseboats lie empty in the Himalayan fog Intricately carved furniture Thick with dust and the powder of blood and bullets Himalayan silhouette etched black against the song of lotus gatherers Foggy voices like cloud of moon Lotus lake Gray of war and desperation Children beg 1 rupee 1 rupee 1 rupee Endless monologue Parched like lotus shaped paddle They throw flowers to me endlessly I throw them back endlessly Time passes slowly like smoke on a lizard’s tail trailing in the thick, rancid air of burning meat and maple leaves Like a shikara moving over the glass of Kashmir The sound of a dozen Bangees floating over the water Hollow, solemn and mournful Echoing against the hardness of the surrounding mountains The circle of Himalayas Like a womb around the prayers of Pachin In the middle of the lake I hear the call to prayer Azan Nemarz Suba Azan Nemarz Pashin Azan Nemarz Degar Azan Nemarz Sham Azan Nemarz Koftan From dawn till dusk Azan 4 mosques 4 singers 4 directions staggered by a breath like an imperfect echo Azan slips into the pockets of island soldiers Waters the impatience of soldiers on the shore Steals into the vacant eyes of soldiers in the Mosque They want to go home to their wives and children They want to leave the place of prayer, which is not theirs The place of prayer, which has seen death The place where God was pushed out In order to not see the killing To **** what they don’t see The place, which was no longer a refuge Outside Dal Lake turns to the color of red lentils cooking in a dented metal *** In the Shikara boat we eat dal and rice and throw scraps into the silver water where it washes up onto the ***** boots of a soldier I hear the dull gray click, click of his rifle as it touches the ground The prayers have ended
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC
Dal Lake
Dal Lake I float on Dal Lake Suspended between the thick soupy crisp air of soldiers water lilies, Kashmiri bread and the Muslim prayers that penetrate the hardness of war chanting Allah Bismallah Floating Islam Holy words drenching the air Drenching the green cloth of Hindu soldiers Sliding down the cool metal of a rifle 9 years of war 1,000 houseboats lie empty in the Himalayan fog Intricately carved furniture Thick with dust and the powder of blood and bullets Himalayan silhouette etched black against the song of lotus gatherers Foggy voices like cloud of moon Lotus lake Gray of war and desperation Children beg 1 rupee 1 rupee 1 rupee Endless monologue Parched like lotus shaped paddle They throw flowers to me endlessly I throw them back endlessly Time passes slowly like smoke on a lizard’s tail trailing in the thick, rancid air of burning meat and maple leaves Like a shikara moving over the glass of Kashmir The sound of a dozen Bangees floating over the water Hollow, solemn and mournful Echoing against the hardness of the surrounding mountains The circle of Himalayas Like a womb around the prayers of Pachin In the middle of the lake I hear the call to prayer Azan Nemarz Suba Azan Nemarz Pashin Azan Nemarz Degar Azan Nemarz Sham Azan Nemarz Koftan From dawn till dusk Azan 4 mosques 4 singers 4 directions staggered by a breath like an imperfect echo Azan slips into the pockets of island soldiers Waters the impatience of soldiers on the shore Steals into the vacant eyes of soldiers in the Mosque They want to go home to their wives and children They want to leave the place of prayer, which is not theirs The place of prayer, which has seen death The place where God was pushed out In order to not see the killing To **** what they don’t see The place, which was no longer a refuge Outside Dal Lake turns to the color of red lentils cooking in a dented metal *** In the Shikara boat we eat dal and rice and throw scraps into the silver water where it washes up onto the ***** boots of a soldier I hear the dull gray click, click of his rifle as it touches the ground The prayers have ended
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81
Oh motherland, at your feet may all moments of my life lie sacrificed This strength of my youth, these breaths, All are surrendered to you To protect your honour I would forego hundred lifetimes I would either embrace death or vanquish your enemies Touching your feet in reverence I take this solemn oath until the end of my life I would be loyal to you Those who have died in your lap their spirits bask in eternal happiness *Oh motherland, at your feet may all moments of my life lie sacrificed* My mother tells me I will go on without you bearing the pain of your passing by turning my heart into stone However, if in your lifetime there is a threat to this country and being fearless you do not fight this threat, my son, then, I will think, I birthed poison instead of life or that my nourishment did not give enough strength Listening to these words my head lies forever bowed *Oh motherland, at your feet may all moments of my life lie sacrificed* It is not only said by my mother but all mothers of this country to give birth to a Narsimh they bear difficult pangs of labour Those brave warriors who wrote history with their life blood carry their images in your heart and placing your hand there, promise, you will forsake everything else at the call of your motherland Your body, soul and life surrendered to your country *Oh motherland, at your feet may all moments of my life lie sacrificed* Narsimh - an avatar of the Hindu god Vishnu,often visualised as having a human torso and lower body, with a lion face and claws. He is known primarily as the 'Great Protector' who specifically defends and protects his devotees in times of need. Translation is given by karishma ji
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Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 7:21 AM UTC
For motherland :-Mohit mishra
Oh motherland, at your feet may all moments of my life lie sacrificed This strength of my youth, these breaths, All are surrendered to you To protect your honour I would forego hundred lifetimes I would either embrace death or vanquish your enemies Touching your feet in reverence I take this solemn oath until the end of my life I would be loyal to you Those who have died in your lap their spirits bask in eternal happiness *Oh motherland, at your feet may all moments of my life lie sacrificed* My mother tells me I will go on without you bearing the pain of your passing by turning my heart into stone However, if in your lifetime there is a threat to this country and being fearless you do not fight this threat, my son, then, I will think, I birthed poison instead of life or that my nourishment did not give enough strength Listening to these words my head lies forever bowed *Oh motherland, at your feet may all moments of my life lie sacrificed* It is not only said by my mother but all mothers of this country to give birth to a Narsimh they bear difficult pangs of labour Those brave warriors who wrote history with their life blood carry their images in your heart and placing your hand there, promise, you will forsake everything else at the call of your motherland Your body, soul and life surrendered to your country *Oh motherland, at your feet may all moments of my life lie sacrificed* Narsimh - an avatar of the Hindu god Vishnu,often visualised as having a human torso and lower body, with a lion face and claws. He is known primarily as the 'Great Protector' who specifically defends and protects his devotees in times of need. Translation is given by karishma ji
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48
If you should hear me Say Ave, Don't presume You hear me pray; It's just one way For me to say, How 're you? If you should hear me Say Shalom, Don't assume You heard a Jew, I'm only offering Peace to you. If you should hear Namaste, Don't be amused, I'm not Hindu, I bow to the good I see in you. Then again I say Waz sup, You don't think I'm  Gangsta, You know I mean to say Les hang togetha. Does it really matter What you heard; The silent or the spoken word. Words spoken in brevity Are heard with sincerity; But there's none more true, Than I Love You.
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Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 7:35 AM UTC
There's None More True
So aged he is, but still so zealous for his job. It feels like he has only known his rickshaw. The ancient bard in him tells Punjabi poems. He belies his wrinkles as he pedals his ride. Just putting to shame his fellow rickshaw pullers. None remembers or even cares to know his name. He just pedals and remembers his deceased wife. He told me a Punjabi tale of partition... *"We were really happy when it happened, I was 16 and married to my beautiful wife, But then he pressed for a separate Pakistan, Just so much wicked was this demand of his, Punjab was alight due to some people's doing, We were to cross river Ravi en route to Amritsar, In Lahore my childhood home was burnt to ashes, My beautiful wife was still so young at that time, She was ***** on the banks of river Ravi & killed, In no cloth was she draped as they burnt her body, After pouring whiskey all over her lifeless body."* His voice broke and a stream of tears escaped, Down his eyes they flowed like the river Ravi, *"In front of my two eyes the men had ***** her, Her mistake? Looking at them once & smiling, Sin as great to be punished by such brutal drab? What God, Ishwar or Allah did they follow? I have known all & none advocates **** To which parents could they born? Must be the devil & the witch."* By now his nose was red and his sobs audible. He said, *"She was not just ***** she was also killed,"* The ancient rickshaw puller gasped for breath as he said, "Would the high heavens thank them for killing my wife, She was a Hindu and an idolater with my mangalsootra, Why they spared my life I have no idea but just remorse, Will their Allah or God spare them on Doomsday?" ==============
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC
The Sad Ancient Rickshaw Puller
So aged he is, but still so zealous for his job. It feels like he has only known his rickshaw. The ancient bard in him tells Punjabi poems. He belies his wrinkles as he pedals his ride. Just putting to shame his fellow rickshaw pullers. None remembers or even cares to know his name. He just pedals and remembers his deceased wife. He told me a Punjabi tale of partition... *"We were really happy when it happened, I was 16 and married to my beautiful wife, But then he pressed for a separate Pakistan, Just so much wicked was this demand of his, Punjab was alight due to some people's doing, We were to cross river Ravi en route to Amritsar, In Lahore my childhood home was burnt to ashes, My beautiful wife was still so young at that time, She was ***** on the banks of river Ravi & killed, In no cloth was she draped as they burnt her body, After pouring whiskey all over her lifeless body."* His voice broke and a stream of tears escaped, Down his eyes they flowed like the river Ravi, *"In front of my two eyes the men had ***** her, Her mistake? Looking at them once & smiling, Sin as great to be punished by such brutal drab? What God, Ishwar or Allah did they follow? I have known all & none advocates **** To which parents could they born? Must be the devil & the witch."* By now his nose was red and his sobs audible. He said, *"She was not just ***** she was also killed,"* The ancient rickshaw puller gasped for breath as he said, "Would the high heavens thank them for killing my wife, She was a Hindu and an idolater with my mangalsootra, Why they spared my life I have no idea but just remorse, Will their Allah or God spare them on Doomsday?" ==============
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36
The border at Jammu & Kashmir, One of the highest battlegrounds. Though that scenery is beautiful, The soil there is stained in blood. The blood of terrorists & soldiers, Sadly defiles the heaven in there. White peaks often don a red hue, Those serene valleys face hellfire. They do not realize that it is vain, They war in the name of religion. Disrupting peace and calm there, They often desecrate the paradise. Christ is said to have gone there, After his resurrection of course. Hindu deities are also fabled so, The land of Gods and their messengers has been desecrated time and again.
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
Paradise Lost
Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha sabhi ka samman kiya jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha sabhi logo me ekta hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha atithi ko bhagwan ka darja diya jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha aurato ko devi kaha jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha hindu muslim sikh esai sabhi bhai bhai hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha mata pita ko dharti ke bhagwan mana jata hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha sabhi log desh ke liye marte hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha mahatma gandhi, Bhagat singh, Subash chandra bose jaise beero ne janam liya tha, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jaha par sanchai aur ekta mishal hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain.... Jaha ki nadiya sudha jal deti hain, Hum us desh ke vashi hain..... Jise log bharat ya india kahte hain...       JAY HIND                JAY BHARAT
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 4:34 AM UTC
HUM US DESH KE VASHI HAIN......
I walked into a church today, One I wanted to visit for days, I passed by it, saw the huge doors open Inviting me in daily, but I just didn’t go in. I’m a Hindu by religion, Indian by birth, I have an older sister, My mom and my dad obviously. Why am I telling you this? Well because I’m everything but Happy, calm and sorted, Just angry, irritated and anxious. They fight, my mom and dad, They love each other, or maybe they don’t, But they fight and argue, They don’t hold back on concern either. They talk a lot, my sister and him, The guy she’s seeing but not dating, The guy she’s serious about but hasn’t met, She’s always on the phone, sharing every bit of her life. I entered the church, Felt nothing, felt the same as usual, No excitement, disappointment, nothing, Temples don’t help either. I love my family, they love me back, They care and support me, a lot! I don’t want it most of the times, It both keeps me alive and suffocates me. They are always there, Standing right by me, If not in person, then by spirit, Always a call away. I talk to them every day, thrice, Twice at least, message my whereabouts, It’s a habit, a want, a need To let them know everything about me. They are fighting now, I got an email this time, Not a phone call, nor message, Mom lied, that she’s got her migraine. Dad’s left the family WhatsApp group, Blamed it on the work stress, But I know better, we all do, I may be the youngest, but I’m 20. My sister’s fed up with me, Well she’s not the only one, I shout, scream, screech rudely, Loudly, with no sane reason. I know I need help, We all do, for anger, To love and feel loved, But it’s never going to happen. I am a psychology student, I want to let the world know, With my research that depression and anxiety, Can’t be beat with medicines nor by expressing. My sister’s a Human Rights student, Who wants to help people, Support and care for them, You can’t, nothing will end human suffering. We are the sole cause of it, Human suffering, the ones with fuel, The ones with the extinguisher, Yet, each time we choose poorly. My family is broken, ******* up, It’s surviving on a thin string, But it won’t break, ever, We’ll all just drift apart.
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Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
Family
I walked into a church today, One I wanted to visit for days, I passed by it, saw the huge doors open Inviting me in daily, but I just didn’t go in. I’m a Hindu by religion, Indian by birth, I have an older sister, My mom and my dad obviously. Why am I telling you this? Well because I’m everything but Happy, calm and sorted, Just angry, irritated and anxious. They fight, my mom and dad, They love each other, or maybe they don’t, But they fight and argue, They don’t hold back on concern either. They talk a lot, my sister and him, The guy she’s seeing but not dating, The guy she’s serious about but hasn’t met, She’s always on the phone, sharing every bit of her life. I entered the church, Felt nothing, felt the same as usual, No excitement, disappointment, nothing, Temples don’t help either. I love my family, they love me back, They care and support me, a lot! I don’t want it most of the times, It both keeps me alive and suffocates me. They are always there, Standing right by me, If not in person, then by spirit, Always a call away. I talk to them every day, thrice, Twice at least, message my whereabouts, It’s a habit, a want, a need To let them know everything about me. They are fighting now, I got an email this time, Not a phone call, nor message, Mom lied, that she’s got her migraine. Dad’s left the family WhatsApp group, Blamed it on the work stress, But I know better, we all do, I may be the youngest, but I’m 20. My sister’s fed up with me, Well she’s not the only one, I shout, scream, screech rudely, Loudly, with no sane reason. I know I need help, We all do, for anger, To love and feel loved, But it’s never going to happen. I am a psychology student, I want to let the world know, With my research that depression and anxiety, Can’t be beat with medicines nor by expressing. My sister’s a Human Rights student, Who wants to help people, Support and care for them, You can’t, nothing will end human suffering. We are the sole cause of it, Human suffering, the ones with fuel, The ones with the extinguisher, Yet, each time we choose poorly. My family is broken, ******* up, It’s surviving on a thin string, But it won’t break, ever, We’ll all just drift apart.
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68
Hello friends & wishing you a very auspicious & prosperous DIWALI.. ..............HAPPY DIWALI............... On this auspicious festival of Diwali i wish & pray that, may everyone Life filled with a Sparking colors of the happiness & Light of Prosperity. May this world & people of this country live with a calmness & Fortune of love. Diwali is one of my favorite festival & it is also the festival of light were houses are decorated with candles & it is one of the most beautiful festivals in Indian culture, coincides with Hindu New Year and is seen as a metaphor for self-improvement and as representing new beginnings. It involves a strong belief in giving to people in need, and is also traditionally a time for new clothes to be worn & Indian sweets is a variety of colours and flavours are eaten during the celebrations....May this writing platform of Lettrs continues as the same of making originality of marking a talent into a magic light... so I am inviting everyone to be a part of Indian festivals and culture... everyone are most welcomed to India..India is Country of Carnival with different Tradition, different culture , with beauty of joy, beauty of passion, beauty of love , beauty of art & beauty of everything that you have never experienced before... ....Thank-you..
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 7:14 AM UTC
Happy Diwali...
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ This poem is self translated version of my Hindi language poem titled "शिव स्वरूपं" published in pratilipi on (Dec. 2017) Can be read through the link ==>> https://bit.ly/2P4j7vE ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ That face of Lord Shiva is most beautiful in which he holds Ganga in his hairs The Moon feels blessed by beautifying the head of Shiva as a glittering crown The Serpants also became jewellery by themselves and decorated his blue neck Shiva holds the trident on one hand and plays the Damroo from the other one He has seated himself on a mat of Tiger Skin and rubbed pyre ash on his body He has left elephant and the horses and decided to travel on an old Bull Nandi By such an amazing face form, he is always ready for the welfare of devotees The cruel and wicked have always been afraid of his eldritch face and form. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Shiva (See Line 1): A God (The Destroyer) in Hindu Mythology Ganga (See Line 1): The Holy river whose flow and speed is controlled by the coiled hairs (Jatas) of Lord Shiiva Damroo(See Line 4): A sort of musical instrument ( Pellet Drum ) Nandi((See Line 6)): A bull in Indian mythology who is the vehicle of Lord Shiva
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Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 4:55 AM UTC
The Face of Lord Shiva
Afu Ra Ka Which reminds me I'm just another Red Letter Muslim Jew Adieu as Zen Master says in the Tao of Hindu's Krishna as Buddha's Bodhisattva's Love in the Great Middle Way of Mother's Forever Embracing Zarathustra a son's spiritual fostering to heirs as Abraham of Love in Folly and Light All of Daughters and All Sons Sown sowing in and out of forgiveness reap Satyam Shivam Sundram Love Truly as Kindness in Action as Beauty Be of Great Spirits's Ka- Alling Afu Ra's Childeren All Must Be One Great Womb Where Our Love's Light Spirit Breathes Within as without, above and below every rainbow I Am Another You
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Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 10:56 PM UTC
In Lak'ech Ala K'in
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ This poem is self translated version of my Hindi language poem titled "शिव लीला" published in pratilipi on (June. 2018) Can be read through the link ==>> https://bit.ly/2Z9Z57t ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ His neck has entirely turned blue due to Kalkoot, This is just a Leela of Shiva He has taken everyone's pain and sorrow for the betterment of the world He is the keeper of all the three loka's and also called as Trilokinath He hold the holy Ganga in his locks, but do not drinks a drop from it He sits on the yellow Tiger skin mat and keeps meditating for years to come He satiates hunger by Datura and Madaar and drinks Bhang to quench thirst He has a marvellous third eye through which all the three lokas are visible Sitting in the Mahayoga posture, He keeps on concentrating and meditating Brahma and Vishnu also bows before him with respect and feels blessed Such a beautiful holy Leela of Shiva.  Nothing else but Shiva's holy Leela ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Kalkoot(Line 1): A poison generated due to Samudra Manthan ( The Churning of the Ocean by Devtas[Gods] and Asuras[Demons] ) Leela(Line 1): "Divine Play" (Just a pastime) Shiva(Line 1): A God (The Destroyer) in Hindu Mythology Loka(Line 3): Three three different worlds/realms. Swargaloka, the land of gods; Mrityuloka, the middle kingdom of men; and Pataloka, home of the Asuras, the fallen gods, and demons. Trilokinath(Line 3): The Lord of the Three world/realms. Ganga (Line 4): The Holy river whose flow and speed is controlled by the locks (Jatas - The thick hair strands) of Lord Shiiva Datura and Madaar (Line 6): Poisonous plants (Datura stramonium and Calotropis gigantean) Bhang (Line 6): Poisonous plants (Cannabis Plant) Mahayoga (Line 8): Also called as Mahamudra – The Great Gesture (a posture for meditating)
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 12:15 PM UTC
Divine Play of Shiva
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ This poem is self translated version of my Hindi language poem titled "शिव लीला" published in pratilipi on (June. 2018) Can be read through the link ==>> https://bit.ly/2Z9Z57t ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ His neck has entirely turned blue due to Kalkoot, This is just a Leela of Shiva He has taken everyone's pain and sorrow for the betterment of the world He is the keeper of all the three loka's and also called as Trilokinath He hold the holy Ganga in his locks, but do not drinks a drop from it He sits on the yellow Tiger skin mat and keeps meditating for years to come He satiates hunger by Datura and Madaar and drinks Bhang to quench thirst He has a marvellous third eye through which all the three lokas are visible Sitting in the Mahayoga posture, He keeps on concentrating and meditating Brahma and Vishnu also bows before him with respect and feels blessed Such a beautiful holy Leela of Shiva.  Nothing else but Shiva's holy Leela ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Kalkoot(Line 1): A poison generated due to Samudra Manthan ( The Churning of the Ocean by Devtas[Gods] and Asuras[Demons] ) Leela(Line 1): "Divine Play" (Just a pastime) Shiva(Line 1): A God (The Destroyer) in Hindu Mythology Loka(Line 3): Three three different worlds/realms. Swargaloka, the land of gods; Mrityuloka, the middle kingdom of men; and Pataloka, home of the Asuras, the fallen gods, and demons. Trilokinath(Line 3): The Lord of the Three world/realms. Ganga (Line 4): The Holy river whose flow and speed is controlled by the locks (Jatas - The thick hair strands) of Lord Shiiva Datura and Madaar (Line 6): Poisonous plants (Datura stramonium and Calotropis gigantean) Bhang (Line 6): Poisonous plants (Cannabis Plant) Mahayoga (Line 8): Also called as Mahamudra – The Great Gesture (a posture for meditating)
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23
Hanging out new to the scene So often wonder what that means As I sit in front of the world's screen Started in on ...Googling I typed in a single word Pressed enter for the Google search Took me down the path absurd Where all the lines were blurred   From there I ventured off the path Wish I'd known there's no turning back Marveled at the knowledge that I lack Like how to whittle your own baseball bat Just in case you're wondering Midgets don't melt in the rain Who doesn't think that that's insane As I dive deeper into Googling The art of bathing a Hindu rat Skinning a two-headed Siamese cat The taking of the perfect nap Standing up while keeping your lap intact How to delicately pierce a Rhino's ear Dressing up then down a deer 50 different ways a man can cheer While toasting his favorite Micro beer Abstract art using cotton ***** How to paint between the lines on paisley walls Teaching Yankees how the South says ya'll Lost episodes of the show called Lost Food served upon the world's menus Even specialties from Timbuktu Why the sea is green and the sky is blue As my googling madness continues More artwork this time with the jam of toes How to pick your friends but never your friend's nose Cleaning of the house without a stitch of clothes The whole time being careful with the vacuum hose 80's Hairbands I used to like That now know what bald feels like Making a homemade Hindenburg kite One that lands this time How to handle midlife like a man Taking a survey of what you could have been Raising Spider Monkey's  in the comfort of your den As I keep on Googling I now find myself Googling out in front As I'm Googling from behind Googling up as I'm Googling down To the left and to the right I've learned how to gargle Google That's a well known Google fact And if you don't believe me You can even Google that
0
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:33 PM UTC
~Googling~
Hanging out new to the scene So often wonder what that means As I sit in front of the world's screen Started in on ...Googling I typed in a single word Pressed enter for the Google search Took me down the path absurd Where all the lines were blurred   From there I ventured off the path Wish I'd known there's no turning back Marveled at the knowledge that I lack Like how to whittle your own baseball bat Just in case you're wondering Midgets don't melt in the rain Who doesn't think that that's insane As I dive deeper into Googling The art of bathing a Hindu rat Skinning a two-headed Siamese cat The taking of the perfect nap Standing up while keeping your lap intact How to delicately pierce a Rhino's ear Dressing up then down a deer 50 different ways a man can cheer While toasting his favorite Micro beer Abstract art using cotton ***** How to paint between the lines on paisley walls Teaching Yankees how the South says ya'll Lost episodes of the show called Lost Food served upon the world's menus Even specialties from Timbuktu Why the sea is green and the sky is blue As my googling madness continues More artwork this time with the jam of toes How to pick your friends but never your friend's nose Cleaning of the house without a stitch of clothes The whole time being careful with the vacuum hose 80's Hairbands I used to like That now know what bald feels like Making a homemade Hindenburg kite One that lands this time How to handle midlife like a man Taking a survey of what you could have been Raising Spider Monkey's  in the comfort of your den As I keep on Googling I now find myself Googling out in front As I'm Googling from behind Googling up as I'm Googling down To the left and to the right I've learned how to gargle Google That's a well known Google fact And if you don't believe me You can even Google that
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52
*a child is born free of mind but is hardened into thought and by the time one dies most are fixed and ******* into worlds of their making, heavens of their fantasies* so one thinks one's an Indian, one a Chinese or an American or British or Swedish or French or Russian or German; or one thinks one is a Christian or Muslim or Jew or Hindu or Sikh or Catholic or Doaist or Buddhist or Marxist or Communist or even for that matter, an atheist - or whatever you will... one finds a badge to pin proudly to one's chest and each identity becomes so strong it becomes so real it all comes into the question of right and wrong of evil and good and it falls into loud declamations and my tribe is good, your tribe is evil my brand is holy, your brand unholy... and so it goes, with all sorts of justifications that beat sense out of all loyal adherents and it squeezes humanity out of the human as paste out of a tube... ah, and yes, the energy goes on into the afterlife as Christians go into a Christian Heaven and Hindus and Buddhists into various Lokas and Muslims in their own Paradise and so it goes on, this Human Tragi-Comedy, yes, yes, certainly all created by the Almighty who was created by your mind's poverty so that a child is born free of mind but is hardened into thought and by the time one dies most are fixed and ******* into worlds of their making, heavens of their fantasies
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Oct 22, 2010
Oct 22, 2010 at 7:34 PM UTC
a child is born free of mind
Is it really this hard to find people I can go back and forth in discussion with about Buddhist and Hindu theology compared and contrasted against Christian and Yoruba I want to scream and shout and dance with somebody over Janet Jackson's new album and at the same time feel the heat and talk with somebody about how extremely sad and depressing but oh so good Giovanni's Room was I want to be able to speak with somebody whom can quote Malcolm X and Kafka in the same breath Somebody who could see the logic of Pac and Immortal Technique on the same piece with the Budos Band or Mulatu on the back track I want to know people whom know just exactly who Suki Lee and Bayard Rustin are can we talk about Jacob Kinohoor's *** at least for a moment then get into some B.B. King or Johnny Cash have you seen Dune the one from the eighties James McAvoy shirtless as well as John Goodman’s acting were only good things about the other if you read it even better what about the ***** that sat by the door Or killer clowns from outer space let's be shady and point out all the inaccuracies on the history and discovery and channels praying for that day that's not in February They show Shaka Zulu in full without commercial interruption Or maybe a documentary about native American people with actual native actors that do not depict them all as either plains people Or Inuit Cause you already know not everybody is Eskimo then let's put on our own private production of legally blonde followed by encore presentations of the classic scene Of Miss Celie and miss Ofelia going in over Harpo can I discuss with you how the Patriot act nullifies everything in constitution And the bill of rights even though they never were intended to be permanent any way It would be nice to not have to explain a Corporatocracy all my life Ive been into Egyptology You do know that Imhotep was the actual founder of medicine by a good 2000 years not that Hippocrat the thing is I'm still learning when attempt to delve that deeply into people which I don't even consider that deep They often misunderstand They often concluded without thinking maybe just maybe ©Christopher F. Brown 2015
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 11:30 PM UTC
I'm not trying to **** I'm trying to see you in 3D
Is it really this hard to find people I can go back and forth in discussion with about Buddhist and Hindu theology compared and contrasted against Christian and Yoruba I want to scream and shout and dance with somebody over Janet Jackson's new album and at the same time feel the heat and talk with somebody about how extremely sad and depressing but oh so good Giovanni's Room was I want to be able to speak with somebody whom can quote Malcolm X and Kafka in the same breath Somebody who could see the logic of Pac and Immortal Technique on the same piece with the Budos Band or Mulatu on the back track I want to know people whom know just exactly who Suki Lee and Bayard Rustin are can we talk about Jacob Kinohoor's *** at least for a moment then get into some B.B. King or Johnny Cash have you seen Dune the one from the eighties James McAvoy shirtless as well as John Goodman’s acting were only good things about the other if you read it even better what about the ***** that sat by the door Or killer clowns from outer space let's be shady and point out all the inaccuracies on the history and discovery and channels praying for that day that's not in February They show Shaka Zulu in full without commercial interruption Or maybe a documentary about native American people with actual native actors that do not depict them all as either plains people Or Inuit Cause you already know not everybody is Eskimo then let's put on our own private production of legally blonde followed by encore presentations of the classic scene Of Miss Celie and miss Ofelia going in over Harpo can I discuss with you how the Patriot act nullifies everything in constitution And the bill of rights even though they never were intended to be permanent any way It would be nice to not have to explain a Corporatocracy all my life Ive been into Egyptology You do know that Imhotep was the actual founder of medicine by a good 2000 years not that Hippocrat the thing is I'm still learning when attempt to delve that deeply into people which I don't even consider that deep They often misunderstand They often concluded without thinking maybe just maybe ©Christopher F. Brown 2015
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59
death mourns a life that succumbs to suicide... classical lawless-ness? calls the jyst... a thieving; a stolen death, a suicide.... bride riddled to a bridge... baking... left half awake and half baked... you count with the number of blinding equations... your 80+ segments? i want nothing to be part of, whether polymath, bilingual, or polymath... you resd yourself into "it".... fuck you, and... **** off... in terms of .gif ***** files... no... the part where we don't parrot? for no worthwhile surprise! death is alal b & w... memory? all invigorating sepia... life? the blooming of color... you take shrooms, to invigorate the colors?! oh look... you're as loony as me... and why would i give a **** about your tall-tales of subversive religiosity?! you're right! like you have been with me to begin with... there aren't any! now?! suffer! you're in good hands... turns out?! i'm a sadist... i somehow tested the pain on myself... i enjoy... the pain, of others, having, prior, teased the pain on, myself! i forgot teasing the pain... i taste it... i welcome it... i've become welcoming in allowing it, a stature abbreviating a transcendence of victim-hood! i need pain, to craft an erasure of ever having the capacity to instruct a modus operandi for pleasure! death contra suicide... a fact contra a premature contest of pleasure... suicide is what death calls thief... there is no moral artifact of a "question"... suicide is the thief, when death is the executioner... what moral question is to be entertained? non! i can't blame the mortality arsonist... less Tartarus and more Gehenna... less S.S. and more khaki S.A. night of the broken windows and less... hyper-Hindu reincarnation, hue hue grey... woo woo the ashen pillage... no... i'm not here for the cinder and the ******** it's enough that i drink the sort of excuse, that sober people could hardly make excuses about... and that's enough... and enough, is, where i'll stick to.
0
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC
death is robbed via suicide, i want to rob death of of its stature
death mourns a life that succumbs to suicide... classical lawless-ness? calls the jyst... a thieving; a stolen death, a suicide.... bride riddled to a bridge... baking... left half awake and half baked... you count with the number of blinding equations... your 80+ segments? i want nothing to be part of, whether polymath, bilingual, or polymath... you resd yourself into "it".... fuck you, and... **** off... in terms of .gif ***** files... no... the part where we don't parrot? for no worthwhile surprise! death is alal b & w... memory? all invigorating sepia... life? the blooming of color... you take shrooms, to invigorate the colors?! oh look... you're as loony as me... and why would i give a **** about your tall-tales of subversive religiosity?! you're right! like you have been with me to begin with... there aren't any! now?! suffer! you're in good hands... turns out?! i'm a sadist... i somehow tested the pain on myself... i enjoy... the pain, of others, having, prior, teased the pain on, myself! i forgot teasing the pain... i taste it... i welcome it... i've become welcoming in allowing it, a stature abbreviating a transcendence of victim-hood! i need pain, to craft an erasure of ever having the capacity to instruct a modus operandi for pleasure! death contra suicide... a fact contra a premature contest of pleasure... suicide is what death calls thief... there is no moral artifact of a "question"... suicide is the thief, when death is the executioner... what moral question is to be entertained? non! i can't blame the mortality arsonist... less Tartarus and more Gehenna... less S.S. and more khaki S.A. night of the broken windows and less... hyper-Hindu reincarnation, hue hue grey... woo woo the ashen pillage... no... i'm not here for the cinder and the ******** it's enough that i drink the sort of excuse, that sober people could hardly make excuses about... and that's enough... and enough, is, where i'll stick to.
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90
the cosmos a web of plantary oppositions squares and triangulations curses and blessings demons, humans and gods friends and enemies each a constituent a revolving carousel of heavens and hells the macro, an umbrella of spilling stars like shattered glass in flames outer and inner stone & gas planets wandering infinitely like strays others in tight gravitational ellipses and eclipses the elements of fire air earth and water from the most subtle formless to rocks flames oceans and the air we breathe disjuncture in a   a mix-meister a gruesome churning mouth swallowing our delicate membranes and we wonder why we are in pain why we are nourished by flesh as we ourselves are consumed filled with blood and nothing and deadened by marking time all hungry shells and why we wither to dust as do suns and moons and gods themselves all of us children of monsters and corpse eaters born of magnitudes episodic collisions and  harrowing creative destructions the dead living and the living dead with eyes that flicker only on half a landscape at a time a holloween of pyramids and bones always running from wolves because we are meant to be eaten okay my darlings now lets try focused breathing, and boundless light lets try being Hindu
0
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
HINDU
GOOGLE’S LOVE ADVICE © Louis Brown His relationship with girls was somewhat awful He'd used less than brilliance in that world So he searched the internet for wisdom he could get To get some ***** kisses from the girls Folks told him Google had a lot of answers And he learned a lot by reading Romeo And since he studied Hindu, they like what he is into He's popular with all the girls he knows IT JUST TOOK SOME GOOGLE’S LOVE ADVICE NOW IN HIS ARMS THEY WANT HIS LOVING THRICE AND OLE GOOGLE TAUGHT HIM PLOYS PUTTING SHAME TO ALL THE BOYS IT JUST TOOK SOME GOOGLE’S LOVE ADVICE He found they wanted more than pretty roses And though some sweet perfume may change their mood The **** tips He googled means overtures by the oodles The girls all want a piece of this young dude So now his black book's full of pretty girls And they call him well before he starts his day Every time he learns new angles they love to get entangled Learning those love lessons from Bombay. CHORUS Bridge:  Old Google taught him every new approach                              Now when it comes to romance he's the coach…….. CHORUS
0
Feb 15, 2011
Feb 15, 2011 at 8:39 AM UTC
Google's Love Advice
What am I? I am not White. I am not Black. I am not Hispanic or Asian or Native American. I am a Human Being. What am I? I am not a Christian. I am not a Satanist. I am not Jewish or Muslim, or Hindu. I am a Human Being. What am I? I am not a Racist. I am not a Sexist. I am not a ****** or a ***** or a ******* I am a Human Being. What am I? I am not a Number. I am not a Sheep. I am not a Folder or a Report or a Profile. I am a Human Being. What am I? I am my Mind. I am my Heart. I am my Soul. I Am. What are You?
0
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 8:57 AM UTC
I Am
She is a succulent bunch,let me be helpful, if you don't get the complex chemical scent, I call her ,"a girl of unpredictable meeting places"inotropic, is her effect, She sends heartbeats way up. Delectable too, she was, every time I tasted certain parts of her. Her avatars are numerous, like Hindu Gods With specific intention for each incarnation Onee will be pushed in to neurosis, if doesn't completely relish her infinite variety. She is a cryptic mystic, for a while  from signals I discerned and firmly believed Or is she just a creature mysterious Doubt raises it's head, like a lotus From slushy pond My eyes met her at the level of her eyes first, the rest in a haze to me was invisible, Then my heart sends a message "Right now, I missed a beat here" Heart then recites a poem, tells me, it is all her making "Don't fall in love" heart's advice, "Go, dissolve in her completely" Even my own heart has crossed sides, or is it truly an advice for my sake? Love is a hallucinogen, get it? she whistles like wind at bamboo groves from within sings like a thrush, she is a magpie, or is she a koel? Nocturnal animal, in need of mating, making calls, frantic SMS, incessant. She is wind and water, elements that make one burn and drown She spreads her yoga mat on the floor, asks me to sit cross legged Indian style, I am already for that in my mind, So I spread eagle in corpse pose, indicating, "All through my life", mother earth gives me warmth.           Shanti,   Shanti,   shanti
0
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 7:45 AM UTC
The Corpse Pose for Her
She is a succulent bunch,let me be helpful, if you don't get the complex chemical scent, I call her ,"a girl of unpredictable meeting places"inotropic, is her effect, She sends heartbeats way up. Delectable too, she was, every time I tasted certain parts of her. Her avatars are numerous, like Hindu Gods With specific intention for each incarnation Onee will be pushed in to neurosis, if doesn't completely relish her infinite variety. She is a cryptic mystic, for a while  from signals I discerned and firmly believed Or is she just a creature mysterious Doubt raises it's head, like a lotus From slushy pond My eyes met her at the level of her eyes first, the rest in a haze to me was invisible, Then my heart sends a message "Right now, I missed a beat here" Heart then recites a poem, tells me, it is all her making "Don't fall in love" heart's advice, "Go, dissolve in her completely" Even my own heart has crossed sides, or is it truly an advice for my sake? Love is a hallucinogen, get it? she whistles like wind at bamboo groves from within sings like a thrush, she is a magpie, or is she a koel? Nocturnal animal, in need of mating, making calls, frantic SMS, incessant. She is wind and water, elements that make one burn and drown She spreads her yoga mat on the floor, asks me to sit cross legged Indian style, I am already for that in my mind, So I spread eagle in corpse pose, indicating, "All through my life", mother earth gives me warmth.           Shanti,   Shanti,   shanti
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40
It sickens me to know how individual's religion means so much to people. Is it that important? Various religions caused boundaries between people? REALLY? REALLY? Why so? As far as I know ; islam, christian, hindu, buddha etc. is pretty much the same Not practically, but they are quite the same. I mean, if your friend is a muslim and your another friend is christian, that doesn't stop each of them from being friends with each other right? Sometimes, people take things too seriously, it's like they are trapped in their own box and they refuse to go outside the box. I've recently watched a video about hijab terrorist by fouseytube, it literally made me cry because the guy was verbally abusing the girl in hijab but the by passers mostly didn't do anything to stop him. Like seriously! What planet am I living in?! Come on! It's 2013 and people still have religion issues to talk about. If things remain the same 10 years from now, I solemnly swear i'm giving up on life. Every individuals have their own beliefs, so if you can respect that, than you are in a good circle of society. Not a poem, just expressing my inner thoughts
0
Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 12:13 PM UTC
Religions
if you drill down, past the hair, flesh and bone. into my mind where the ego and id  reside. then turn to the left, and follow the i.q. down the alley, you will find a place. where on thrones of cogitating thoughts, king big questions asked, reigns in conjunction, with, queen yet unanswered. they watch with interest benign, over a field of  an eternal tourney, split roughly down the middle by a chasm quite wide. on one side of the gorge is arrayed, the banners of philosophy. at the vanguard, the epistemological knights; plato, descartes, ferrier, kant, hume,spinoza and bosanquet. the major forces ride beneath the banners, of their schools of thought. followed by the lesser lights, and those, obscure or forgotten, who walk at the rear,carrying the gear and to set the tent poles. as to the other side, that is given to, the seminaries of religion; bhuddism, taoism, islam, hindu, juche, rastafarian, sikh, diasporic, parsis, tenrikyo, judaism and christianity with all its clans. they array themselves in cadres, according to belief. and to the rear, there rides, an interesting guerilla band, of intertestemantals, about 3 or 4 hundred years wide. these are the few who are  accounted for, when god spoke nothing, or perhaps a lot but the message just got lost. they number in their disparate clan, alexander the great, ptolemy, the hellanic masses, seluecids, maccabeans, hasmoeans and pompey the great, not all, but the noteworthy. across the divide, by arrowing thought were fought rallies of acumen and battles of wit and occasionally, a persipacious fire was lit. but there is one more player, to mention. apathy, the great hulking ****** who for want of gumption, and get up and go, sat crouched, (quite uncomfortably so) on a spire. made of mediocracy, cemented by woe, in the iddle of the rifted abyss. unable to decide with which team to go.
0
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
the tourney
if you drill down, past the hair, flesh and bone. into my mind where the ego and id  reside. then turn to the left, and follow the i.q. down the alley, you will find a place. where on thrones of cogitating thoughts, king big questions asked, reigns in conjunction, with, queen yet unanswered. they watch with interest benign, over a field of  an eternal tourney, split roughly down the middle by a chasm quite wide. on one side of the gorge is arrayed, the banners of philosophy. at the vanguard, the epistemological knights; plato, descartes, ferrier, kant, hume,spinoza and bosanquet. the major forces ride beneath the banners, of their schools of thought. followed by the lesser lights, and those, obscure or forgotten, who walk at the rear,carrying the gear and to set the tent poles. as to the other side, that is given to, the seminaries of religion; bhuddism, taoism, islam, hindu, juche, rastafarian, sikh, diasporic, parsis, tenrikyo, judaism and christianity with all its clans. they array themselves in cadres, according to belief. and to the rear, there rides, an interesting guerilla band, of intertestemantals, about 3 or 4 hundred years wide. these are the few who are  accounted for, when god spoke nothing, or perhaps a lot but the message just got lost. they number in their disparate clan, alexander the great, ptolemy, the hellanic masses, seluecids, maccabeans, hasmoeans and pompey the great, not all, but the noteworthy. across the divide, by arrowing thought were fought rallies of acumen and battles of wit and occasionally, a persipacious fire was lit. but there is one more player, to mention. apathy, the great hulking ****** who for want of gumption, and get up and go, sat crouched, (quite uncomfortably so) on a spire. made of mediocracy, cemented by woe, in the iddle of the rifted abyss. unable to decide with which team to go.
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76
To die, To fall, To lose, In an act of, Life-giving, Spirit lifting, Victory, Is simply, Nonsensical, And yet, Perfect, Completely, Irrational, And yet, Thought out, And so, Incomprehensible, With human mind, But absolutely, And definitely, The right thing to do, Because God loved the world so much, He would let his own creation, Take his only son from him, To save his creation, From the hands of evil. And the best thing? The most amazing and inconceivable thing of all, Is that he did it for all mankind. Athiest Agnostic Christian Jew Muslim Sikh Hindu Buddhist Black White Straight Gay Lesbian Bisexual Asexual Boy Girl Bigender Transgender Agender Young Old Kind Cruel Happy Sad Rich Poor Healthy Ill Free Enslaved Safe Afraid Intelligent Stupid Deaf Blind Disabled Handicapped Single Taken Married Divorced Remarried Widowed Lost Found Persecuted Persecutor Murderer Self-harmer Suicidal Unloved Adored Popular Ignored Beautiful Ugly Guilty Innocent Outcast Desperate Autistic Bulimic Alcoholic Bipolar Addict Dyslexic Anorexic Schizophrenic SAVED Every single human being ever born is saved.
0
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
Oxymoron God
A falling feather on the breeze, lilting like the Seraphim songs of Mephistopheles, lured her drunkenly to him. Lilting like the Seraphim, she drank his iridescence. He lured her drunkenly to him, enraptured in naivety. She drank his iridescence. He befouled her virtue, was the air. Enraptured in naivety no more, would Eden hear her prayer? Befouled; her virtue was the air he stole away, a hunched-up thief. No more would Eden hear her prayer - the echoes howling his motif. He stole away, a hunched-up thief, a fallen feather on the breeze; the echoes howling his motif - songs of Mephistopheles. Footnote: Passages from folk lore: Hindu - the peacock is said to have angels' feathers, a devil's voice and the walk of a thief Chinese - a girl who looks at a peacock could become pregnant Islamic: the peafowl carried Satan into the Garden of Eden after consuming him
0
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 5:08 PM UTC
The Peacock
What's wrong with the people and their religion? People are living like they have no religion. I think the whole world is addicted to the drama. Only attracts religious hatred and to things that'll bring you trauma. but if you only have love and respect for your own religion Then you only leave space for discrimination And discrimination only generates hate And when you hate then you're bound to get irate. From overseas we try to stop foreign influence that break our unity and smile for each other. But we still got racists here with no common sense. Why forget the fact we all belong to the same mother? Madness is what you demonstrate And that's exactly how anger works and operates. We all need love to get it straight! Take control of your mind and meditate and let your soul gravitate! Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu and others too. Let the religions unity and love flow! Open your eyes and awake! You all are Sri Lankans for God's sake!
0
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
Where is the unity?