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"sita" poems
Maa ki mamta ko dekh maut v aage se hat jati hai gar maa apmanit hoti dharti ki chaati fat jaati hai ghar ko pura jeevan dekar bechari maa kya pati hai rukha sukha kha leti hai paani *** kar soo jati hai Jo maa jaisi devi ghar ke mandir me nahi rakh sakte hai wo lakho punya bhale kar le inshan nahi ban sakte hai maa jisko v jal de-de wo paudha sandal ban jata hai maa ke charno ko chukar paani Gangajal ban jata hai Maa ke anchal ne yugo-yugo se Bhagwano ko pala hai maa ke charno me jannat hai Girijaghar aur Shivala hai Himgiri jaisi unchai hai sagar jaisi gahrai hai dunia me jitni khushboo hai maa ke anchal se aaye hai Maa kabira ki sakhi hai maa tulsi ki chaupai hai meerabai ki padawali khusru ki amar rubai hai maa angan ki tulsi jaisi pawan bargad ki chaya hai maa ved richao ki garima maa mahakavya ki maya hai Maa maansarovar mamta ka maa gomukh ki unchai hai maa parivaro ka sangam hai maa rishto ki gahrai hai maa hari dubh hai dharti ki maa keshar wali kyari hai maa ki upma kewal maa hai maa har ghar ki phulwari hai Saato sur nartan karte jab koi maa lori gaati hai maa jis roti ko chu leti hai wo prasad ban jati hai maa hasti hai to dharti ka jarra-jarra muskata hai dekho to dur kshtiz ambar dharti ko sheesh jhukata hai Mana mere ghar ki deewaro me chanda si murat hai par mere man ke mandir me bas kewal maa ki murat hai maa saraswati lakshmi durga ansuya mariyam sita hai maa pawanta me ramcharit manas me bhagwat geeta hai Amma teri har baat mujhe vardaan se badhkar lagti hai he Maa teri surat mujhko bhagwan se badhkar lagti hai saare teerath ke punya jaha mai un charno me leta hu jinke koi santan nahi mai un maawo ka beta hu Har ghar me Maa ki puja ** Aisa sankalp uthata hu Mai dunia ki har maa ke Charno me ye sheesh jhukata hu.....
0
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 3:35 AM UTC
Maa - Part 2
Maa ki mamta ko dekh maut v aage se hat jati hai gar maa apmanit hoti dharti ki chaati fat jaati hai ghar ko pura jeevan dekar bechari maa kya pati hai rukha sukha kha leti hai paani *** kar soo jati hai Jo maa jaisi devi ghar ke mandir me nahi rakh sakte hai wo lakho punya bhale kar le inshan nahi ban sakte hai maa jisko v jal de-de wo paudha sandal ban jata hai maa ke charno ko chukar paani Gangajal ban jata hai Maa ke anchal ne yugo-yugo se Bhagwano ko pala hai maa ke charno me jannat hai Girijaghar aur Shivala hai Himgiri jaisi unchai hai sagar jaisi gahrai hai dunia me jitni khushboo hai maa ke anchal se aaye hai Maa kabira ki sakhi hai maa tulsi ki chaupai hai meerabai ki padawali khusru ki amar rubai hai maa angan ki tulsi jaisi pawan bargad ki chaya hai maa ved richao ki garima maa mahakavya ki maya hai Maa maansarovar mamta ka maa gomukh ki unchai hai maa parivaro ka sangam hai maa rishto ki gahrai hai maa hari dubh hai dharti ki maa keshar wali kyari hai maa ki upma kewal maa hai maa har ghar ki phulwari hai Saato sur nartan karte jab koi maa lori gaati hai maa jis roti ko chu leti hai wo prasad ban jati hai maa hasti hai to dharti ka jarra-jarra muskata hai dekho to dur kshtiz ambar dharti ko sheesh jhukata hai Mana mere ghar ki deewaro me chanda si murat hai par mere man ke mandir me bas kewal maa ki murat hai maa saraswati lakshmi durga ansuya mariyam sita hai maa pawanta me ramcharit manas me bhagwat geeta hai Amma teri har baat mujhe vardaan se badhkar lagti hai he Maa teri surat mujhko bhagwan se badhkar lagti hai saare teerath ke punya jaha mai un charno me leta hu jinke koi santan nahi mai un maawo ka beta hu Har ghar me Maa ki puja ** Aisa sankalp uthata hu Mai dunia ki har maa ke Charno me ye sheesh jhukata hu.....
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68
MAI BAHV SUCHI UN BHAVO KI JO BIKE SADDA HI BIN TOLE TANHAI HU HAR US KHAT KI JO JO PADHA GYA HAI BIN KHOLE HAR AANSU KO HAR PATTHAR TAK PAHUNCHANE KI LACHAR HUK MAI SAHAJ ARTH UN SABDO KA JO SUNE GYE HAI BIN BOLE JO KABI NAHI BARSA KHUL KAR HAR US BADA L KA PANI HU LAV-KUSH KI TEER BINA GAYE SITA KIA RAM KAHANI HU MAI BHAV SUCHI UN BHAVO KI. ............ KI JINKE SAPNO KE TAJ MAHAL BAN NE SE PAHLE TUT GAYE JI HAATHO ME DO HAATH KABHI AANE SE PAHLE CHUT GYE DHARTI PAR JINKE KHONE AUR PAANE KI AJAB KAHANI HAI KISHMAT KI DEVI MAAN GYE PAR PRANAY DEVETA RUTH GYE MAI MAILI CHADAR WALE US KABIRA KI AMRIT VANI HU LAV-KUSH KI TEER BINA GAYE SITA KKI RAM KAHANI HU KUCH KAHTE HAI MAI SEEKHA HU APNE JAKHMO KO KHUDSEE KAR KUCH JAAN GYE MAI HASHTA HU BHEETAR BHEETAR ANSU PEEKAR KUCH KAHTE HAI MAI HU VIRODH SE UPJI EK KHUDAAR VIJAY KUCH KAHTE HAI MAI MARTA HU KHUD ME JEEKAR KHUD ME MARKAR LEKIN MAI HAR CHATURI KI SOCHI SAMJHI NADANI HU LAV-KUSH KI TEER BINA GAYE SITA KI RAM KAHANI HU... WRITTEN BY :::::: SHASHANK KUMAR DWIVEDI
0
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 8:11 AM UTC
MAI BAHV SUCHI UN BHAVO KI
Mai bhav suchi un bhavo ki jo bike sada hi bin tole Tanhai hu har us khat ki jo padha gya h bin khole.. Har aanshu ko har patthar tak pahuchane ki laachar huk Mai sahaj arth un sabdo ka jo sune gye h bin bole.. Jo kabhi nahi barsha khul kar har uss badal ka paani hu Lav-Kush ki teer bina gaye Sita ki Ram kahani hu.. Ki jinke sapno ke Taj -Mahal ban ne se pahle tut gaye Jin haatho me do haath kabhi aane se pahle chut gaye Dharti par jinke khone aur paane ki ajab kahani h Kishmat ki devi maan gye par pranay devta ruth gaye.. Mai maili chadar wale uss Kabira ki amrit vaani hu Lav-Kush ki teer bina gaye Sita ki raam kahani hu.. Kuch kahte hai mai sikha hu apne jakhmo ko khud see kar Kuch jaan gaye mai hashta hu bhitar bhitar aanshu peekar.. Kuch kahte hai mai virodh se uppji ek khuddar vijay Kuch kahte hai mai marta hu khud me jeekar khud me markar.. Leekin mai har chaturai ki sochi samjhi  naadani hu Lav-Kush ki teer bina gaye Sita ki Ram kahani hu
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC
..Mai bhav suchi un bhavo ki..
* I am talking of fearlessness "Fearlessness..." The same fearlessness Shown by Christ on the cross The same fearlessness Shown by Gandhi For his non-violence The same fearlessness When Mansoor said "I am YOU" Was lynched & cut piece by piece The same fearlessness Of Meera who sang for Krishna on the streets When she was humiliated, ****** made fun off The same fearlessness When Radha danced for Krishna Even after Krishna left Vrindawan for Dwarka The same fearlessness With which Hussaiyn Ali Martryed his life at Karbala While trusting someone The same fearlessness Of Sita when she withstood The tests of Rama's accusations The same fearlessness When Bahi Taru Singh suffered governor's brutal torture The same fearlessness When Mirziyaan gave his bow & arrow To Sahibaan knowing that The tip of his arrow may be blunted Leading to his death The same fearlessness When Romeo drank the poison And Zuliet stabbed herself with a dagger The same fearlessness That made Layla fall sick & died on hearing that Her Majnun is roaming mad in wilderness; Later on hearing about Layla's death Majnun died near Layla's grave The same fearlessness When Rabia wanted to Cease the fire of hell and Set alight hopes of paradise The same fearlessness Of Rumi who guards The divine light of LOVE The same fearlessness When one is compelled by soul energy to LOVE BELOVEDz That is the fearlessness I am talking about "The fearlessness of LOVE" *
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Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
FEARLESSNESS
Oh! Rama you are the most virtuous You are the eldest son of king Dasaratha’s You always stood by your word You are the greatest man in the world Your wife Sita is the most pious woman Your step mother kaika asked your father for a boon She asked you to go to the forest She refused your father’s request You obliged your father’s promise He grieved to lose your loving kiss Along with your chaste wife In forest you spent fourteen years’ strenuous life Brother Lakshmana shared your strife He cut demon shurphanaka’s nose with a knife The demon Ravana came in disguise Sita fell a prey to his vice He abducted her to his kingdom Sita was deprived of her freedom You wept for Sita like a man Trials and tribulations are very common You made friends with Lord Hanuman He was undoubtedly a super man He flew to Ravana”s kingdom And relieved Sita”s boredom He assured her Rama would **** the demon Because He was supra human In the fierce fight You were too great for his sight Ravana fell down in the battle field Sita was freed from his yield You were crowned king Many songs did the people sing We celebrate your birth day with religious zeal All our troubles you will seal By JVL NARASIMHA RAO
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Dec 25, 2010
Dec 25, 2010 at 7:12 PM UTC
THE RAMAYANA RETOLD IN VERSE
The princess who chose To live in exile Holding the hand of her husband With a beautiful smile Framed in a guile by Ravan But she didn't fall in his wicked ways Despite being held captive And tortured for nights and days She refused to go with Hanuman When he came to rescue her Insisted that Rama come openly to defeat her captor In Rama's honor exile did she prefer On the Ravan's defeat - to prove her purity She had to walk through fire But the flames neither touched her body And nor her attire The fire bowed in her honor But that wasn't enough For the clouds of gloom Were towering above The world has never been fair to women Despite of proving her purity Sita had to leave It was the height of cruelty Cause Rama was as weak In the face of his men As strong he was In front of Ravan Rama- the man Sita loved enough to die for Asked her to leave To the path that led abhor Just imagine the way Sita would be looking at Rama With whom she had to part For he was standing dumb like a statue When her world was falling apart Would she have accused or looked down at him As she asked mother earth to swallow her She was going back to where she came from In order to save the last shred of her honor
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May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
Sita
I had always heard that festivals are symbols of joy,symbols of happiness. but I think more than that it is feeling o f peace,prosperity,love,kindness it is the only time when everyone in our society have get together,follow rituals and the most interesting part is the broken relationships,friendships & every other relations get adhere together. friends i always thought that festivals means only having holidays and enjoying it but today i came to know that every festival has its own story like Christmas for birth of lord Christ, Diwali for returning of lord Rama and goddess Sita. on the occassion of DEEPAVALI I wish everyone HAPPY DEEPAVALI and may this diwali bring prosperity,Elation,peace in your life!!!!
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Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 11:17 AM UTC
*FESTIVALS*...
Nahi chahiye sobhagay aisa, Jisme rukmini Krishna ki patrani ban gayi. Nahi karna tap mujhe, Jaise Parvati shiv ki ardhangini ban gayi. Aur nahi bana aise , Raam ki sita Jo apne, Pavitrata ke liye , Aag me jalke , Mitti se Pani ban gayi. Likh apne pyaar ki adhuri si kahani , Jaise ek priye ban gayi apne saaware ki diwani , Ha , Mujhe bhi bana h vo Radha Jo apne pyaar Mei, Radha se Krishna ki RADHA RANI Ban gayi!
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Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 5:27 AM UTC
Radhe Krishna
They tell me to stick to my roots because roots lead up to shoots. They tell me to stick to my origin unaware of how it acts as a prison, My roots are Draupadi's hair that was twisted and lugged, my roots are Panchali's saree that was tugged. My roots are Sita's wrist Ravana wrested, my roots are where Ahalya's chastity rested. My roots are parasites that eat up its own herb and **** my roots are rat snakes that eat up its own tissue and meat. My roots are flames of fire that created and watered the plant of Sati, my roots are pools of blood and long ropes that drowned and hanged LaxmiBai and Moolmati. My roots are the dish misogyny flavoured with patriarchy, my roots are naked streams of Ganga washing off their lynching and anarchy. My roots are all the poison Shiva drank during the churning of the sea, my roots are Dhritrashtra's aspirations and ambiguity. My roots are its own herbivore, my roots are the lava that burns its own floor. And my roots are my flesh and bone, so I am stitched to my roots altogether, all alone. So as I cut my own roots, my roots chop me, hence I stick to my roots while my roots remain free.
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May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 4:00 AM UTC
Grounded
I don't have the strength of durga Neither I have the wealth of lakshmi Nor the purity of parvati I ain't selfless like sita I don't have the heart to love like radha Don't expect me to be a saviour like savitri Cause am weak I am poor I am impure I have scars I am flawed I am selfish I am imperfect I am just an ordinary woman Don't worship me Just let me be
0
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 12:38 PM UTC
Just let me be
#ክብረ ነገሥት *Oh Sovereign of wisdom Solomonic, forgive us. The wicked wax demonic. Golden vessels fill with foulness man is bankrupt, sold and soulless Unsettling harbingers loom dystopian. Sheba rises in dreams Ethiopian.* Tested with questions, her spirit once gone, occultic suggestions postponed her dawn. (Six-hundred and sixty-six talents of gold paid Nineveh’s rise as Messiah foretold. Go read it in Matthew, obstinate sinner You think He intends to have Satan the winner?) Her ruins now surveyed by satellite beheld on the screens of the Canaanite: canals to expose, southern deserts to cross, Eritrean legends of Prophet (and loss), the Ark of King Menelik—Kebra Negast, treasures of darkness presented, now past have us checking those texts that worldlings despise as we wait under dread Luciferian skies. Break the sixth seal of the seventh scroll; let the thirteenth angel spill the bowl ! (or smoke it up in the courts of Heaven till ganja’s infinitude totals seven…) Exhume Axum with the ****** of Marib. decode the encryption on Adam’s rib unearthed from some Antediluvian ravine— Blast from the past: she explodes on our scene! Seven oaths shall be sworn on her spectral beauty (our Biblical transcendental duty). The libation is mixed. Are we ready to swill it? Beersheba? She brew ! Let us rise to fulfill it. from sita to Saba fifth columns are ready: Oh Sovereign — render their pillars unsteady. For after explosions there’s mess to clean up, and it’s worse than the horrors inside of her cup.
0
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 9:47 AM UTC
Sabean Inscription
#ክብረ ነገሥት *Oh Sovereign of wisdom Solomonic, forgive us. The wicked wax demonic. Golden vessels fill with foulness man is bankrupt, sold and soulless Unsettling harbingers loom dystopian. Sheba rises in dreams Ethiopian.* Tested with questions, her spirit once gone, occultic suggestions postponed her dawn. (Six-hundred and sixty-six talents of gold paid Nineveh’s rise as Messiah foretold. Go read it in Matthew, obstinate sinner You think He intends to have Satan the winner?) Her ruins now surveyed by satellite beheld on the screens of the Canaanite: canals to expose, southern deserts to cross, Eritrean legends of Prophet (and loss), the Ark of King Menelik—Kebra Negast, treasures of darkness presented, now past have us checking those texts that worldlings despise as we wait under dread Luciferian skies. Break the sixth seal of the seventh scroll; let the thirteenth angel spill the bowl ! (or smoke it up in the courts of Heaven till ganja’s infinitude totals seven…) Exhume Axum with the ****** of Marib. decode the encryption on Adam’s rib unearthed from some Antediluvian ravine— Blast from the past: she explodes on our scene! Seven oaths shall be sworn on her spectral beauty (our Biblical transcendental duty). The libation is mixed. Are we ready to swill it? Beersheba? She brew ! Let us rise to fulfill it. from sita to Saba fifth columns are ready: Oh Sovereign — render their pillars unsteady. For after explosions there’s mess to clean up, and it’s worse than the horrors inside of her cup.
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37
Sita smiles as i bring her a sandwich Two toasts with butter, ham, and cheese And yet sita smiles as if i've made her a 5 course meal Sita smiles as i make her a drink of my own recipe ‘Thank you pepe’ she says And brandishes a glass of mysterious content She hasn’t tasted it yet But still she smiles Sita cheers for me as i run down the soccer field She’s waiting for me with a hug, even after games i don't play From the bench I can see her smile Sita is waiting in the car i've known my whole life ‘How was school’ she says Always with a smile ‘I'm coming home Sita’ It's been 2 years since i've seen her She doesn’t ask when She doesn't ask how She smiles ‘I can't come home Sita’ It's the day after the flight i couldn’t get on She doesn’t ask when i can She doesn’t ask but I tell her how I missed it I tell her i love her and will see her soon She smiles It's been 3 years since i've seen her Sita tells me she has cancer I tell her she's the strongest person i know I love her She smiles ‘I promise i’ll fly out to new zealand to see you’ The last time we spoke She tells me she hates the food there I think about how i’ll make her a sandwich, like i used to I tell her it’ll be okay, she’ll be okay ‘I love you Sita, I promise I’ll see you soon’ She doesn’t ask when She doesn’t ask how Sita looks at me, the face I’ve known all my life And she smiles
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Aug 6, 2023
Aug 6, 2023 at 2:34 PM UTC
sita's smile
when Sita asked Rama to get her the golden deer what did she actually want? - Vijayalakshmi Harish 24.12.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
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Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 2:24 AM UTC
A Mystery...
Hii life ni ya kuhustle, alikuja kugundua that, ile night alijimess kwa disco hall, ma-hustlers kwake walikuwa ni masufferes, na yeye kivyake alikuwa mtu wamastarehe, Easy money without pain, na juu ya ignorance, hakutambua kuwa, no pain no gain, ama labda, aliogopa the pain ya kugain, legally according to the law of her body, juu alikuwa after easy money, na hakutambua kuwa hii pain ingetake long kuheal, Asiyesikia la mkuu, huvunjika guu, Walijaribu kumfunza, wavyele kwa walimu, Lakini maneno yao yalienea kwa sikio la kufa ambalo mara nyingi halisikii dawa, Life yake ilikuwa surrounded na pressure from peers, Drugs alizimeza na kujipierce, Malimwengu walimfunza machungu na ma regrets, juu ya  mama aliyapuuza, Alijiona msupuu sana kuattract pesa, coz, si pesa huvutiwa na urembo, All in all,, urembo wake na kuremba kwake kulimlead to waste, na akawa waste, Alikuwa anafuatwa na wengi juu ya manukato, but sasa, anahave kufuatwa na nzi wengi juu ya shombo, Alicome back to her senses, ongezea ya sita, after kujimess hiyo night saa sita, Na juu alikuwa amejawa na ma regrets, pain ilikuwa more na too deep in her flesh, Akaanza kujifeel less fortunate, hakujua pakupata msaada, coz, alidis maarif wake ile time alijifeel high, so high ungedhani amepita limit ya sky, But one thing is for sure, angehave kuget back on her feet, a get from her seat, ya comfort zone, Akaamua kurudi to her first life, Aweke maringo na kuremba kwake, to her last line, Na her life her hustle, Aliamua kuchukua her hustle to the second line, Christ akiwa on the leading line.
0
May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 8:19 AM UTC
Her pain, Her gain
Hii life ni ya kuhustle, alikuja kugundua that, ile night alijimess kwa disco hall, ma-hustlers kwake walikuwa ni masufferes, na yeye kivyake alikuwa mtu wamastarehe, Easy money without pain, na juu ya ignorance, hakutambua kuwa, no pain no gain, ama labda, aliogopa the pain ya kugain, legally according to the law of her body, juu alikuwa after easy money, na hakutambua kuwa hii pain ingetake long kuheal, Asiyesikia la mkuu, huvunjika guu, Walijaribu kumfunza, wavyele kwa walimu, Lakini maneno yao yalienea kwa sikio la kufa ambalo mara nyingi halisikii dawa, Life yake ilikuwa surrounded na pressure from peers, Drugs alizimeza na kujipierce, Malimwengu walimfunza machungu na ma regrets, juu ya  mama aliyapuuza, Alijiona msupuu sana kuattract pesa, coz, si pesa huvutiwa na urembo, All in all,, urembo wake na kuremba kwake kulimlead to waste, na akawa waste, Alikuwa anafuatwa na wengi juu ya manukato, but sasa, anahave kufuatwa na nzi wengi juu ya shombo, Alicome back to her senses, ongezea ya sita, after kujimess hiyo night saa sita, Na juu alikuwa amejawa na ma regrets, pain ilikuwa more na too deep in her flesh, Akaanza kujifeel less fortunate, hakujua pakupata msaada, coz, alidis maarif wake ile time alijifeel high, so high ungedhani amepita limit ya sky, But one thing is for sure, angehave kuget back on her feet, a get from her seat, ya comfort zone, Akaamua kurudi to her first life, Aweke maringo na kuremba kwake, to her last line, Na her life her hustle, Aliamua kuchukua her hustle to the second line, Christ akiwa on the leading line.
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51
To Mr Arnav Gupta, Forgive me bhai, your embers are still fanned alive in my memories you are still walking in circles in Ellipse Park Dear Mr Gupta, Do you know what distance a flame can travel on a summer day? How far the flame travels in the camera frame, how long it keeps? Your flame ephemeral everlasting still walking still wake Purians pyres that covered brown bodies in 1687 Dear Arnav, Do you remember when Sita sat in her Agni Praskar in Ramayana? How women still throw themselves in their husband’s funeral? What were you trying to purify through the seven flames?
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Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 4:47 PM UTC
Arnav Gupta
We're found to be cut off but not long ago! Some burn us with sparklers and we get modulated as flames in a flash by yielding fire flowers to your night sky And you numskulls think that we die. Some sculp us with molten cruelty as symbol of mockery. It's Good enough that we we're just called as devils. But what about those bed evils Who attack upon on lassies With the holler word called “babies” To accomplish their own seductive urge. What about those drunken buffoons In those paved streets under the feeble streetlights stalking the fragile once either for fun or for a wrong intention. What about the brute twice the age of his married daughter bites into the soul of a maiden. Spitting the venomous words and incapacitates the heart Numbness spreads all over her body after the spiteful attack. For heaven's sake Don't point your fingers on us We're better than you I being Ravan, The biggest devotee of lord Siva And had an extremely loyal wife like Mandodari Been burned with ten heads For just kidnapping Sita Whereas I returned her with due respect. But these days people use women like toys by fulfilling their joys. And Mahishasura, Who could worship so hard to impress three lords was eventually killed by Durga and could meet the death by hands of powerful women. But these days people **** the female child before birth thinking daughters as burden on earth. If still you don't get atonement Just think this poem as a complement And just think how better are we as your opponent. May the whole world call us demon or devil But first learn to tackle the inner evil. If possible put pins and needle to such people Then the world will be in next level.
0
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 2:51 AM UTC
Are Ravana and Mahishasura Devils? (Ankit Mohanty).
We're found to be cut off but not long ago! Some burn us with sparklers and we get modulated as flames in a flash by yielding fire flowers to your night sky And you numskulls think that we die. Some sculp us with molten cruelty as symbol of mockery. It's Good enough that we we're just called as devils. But what about those bed evils Who attack upon on lassies With the holler word called “babies” To accomplish their own seductive urge. What about those drunken buffoons In those paved streets under the feeble streetlights stalking the fragile once either for fun or for a wrong intention. What about the brute twice the age of his married daughter bites into the soul of a maiden. Spitting the venomous words and incapacitates the heart Numbness spreads all over her body after the spiteful attack. For heaven's sake Don't point your fingers on us We're better than you I being Ravan, The biggest devotee of lord Siva And had an extremely loyal wife like Mandodari Been burned with ten heads For just kidnapping Sita Whereas I returned her with due respect. But these days people use women like toys by fulfilling their joys. And Mahishasura, Who could worship so hard to impress three lords was eventually killed by Durga and could meet the death by hands of powerful women. But these days people **** the female child before birth thinking daughters as burden on earth. If still you don't get atonement Just think this poem as a complement And just think how better are we as your opponent. May the whole world call us demon or devil But first learn to tackle the inner evil. If possible put pins and needle to such people Then the world will be in next level.
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44
I don't want to be like ravana Who always looking for vedavati figure Never tired searching for a figure who isn't exist anymore in the world Although vedavati as a body has long gone in the world But her soul is immortal Immortal in the niches and minds of ravana Her name will be eternal in his soul Either ravana can't forget her Or Indeed himself who doesn't want to forget her Maybe it's too divine to forget her beauty His real love doesn't belongs to Citrawati, Kausalya, Mandodari, and not also Sita They just a similar figure to vedavati His eternal love belongs to vedavati
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Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 9:48 PM UTC
Dear My Vedavati,
Who knew. I didn’t actually have to be blonde to have more fun, with all love to blonde women everywhere. Holding onto my life, just as I did in that small raft on the River Ganges, while Ma Gangas was as doing all she could to ****** me into the rapids and keep me for herself forever,, I had to learn patience, and I did. I held on early on when one disease and then another went after my tiny body, starting 10 days after I was born. It didn’t matter. I was here and right away I saw and felt this beautiful world all around me with a quiet intensity that field every sense, every cell in my body.
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Nov 11, 2020
Nov 11, 2020 at 8:52 AM UTC
A Brunette in the Goldilocks Zone: Sita’s Return
Your smile is like a drop of honey Your laugh is like a Resurrection Stone Because it can bring people back from the dead Your voice is like one of the symphonies composed by Beethoven If looks could **** I would probably be dead by now If I were to make eye contact with you, that is! Hey, I was just kidding!! But yes, your glare is so intense That it can even force Lord Voldemort To fall at your feet And beg for mercy Thus giving him a taste of his own medicine!!! Your expressions keep changing Like the colours of a chameleon If someone were to wake you up In the middle of the night And force you to act You would do it as naturally As flying comes to Harry Potter Yet, in spite of all the fame and glamour in your life You are as humble as Michael Faraday With a heart as pure as that of Goddess Sita Again just kidding, you are as human as I am Only infinitely more beautiful From the outside as well as from the inside And I am extremely thankful to you Not only for your movies But also for inspiring me to write better poetry In a way that even William Wordsworth wouldn't have been able to pull off!!!
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Sep 18, 2023
Sep 18, 2023 at 3:14 AM UTC
How Aishwarya Helped Me Write Better Poetry
My mother has been reminding me of things, since I was 4, and the school started giving homework. She reminded me of the notebooks I needed to take, the drawing  I needed to make. the exams and competitions coming, the girl, I thought I was becoming. The answers I needed to remember, there are 31 August 30 September. the handkerchief I must never forget to bring home back, the books that needed to be kept when my bag when I used to pack. The words 'harsh' and 'cruel' that I should never speak, Gods and mythology all Indian and Greek. The way I should sit and walk and behave, the Queen's like Lakshmibai to tell me even I am brave. The lights that needed to be turned off and to shut the doors, to be careful while painting and not let the colours spill on the floor. My mother still reminds me of things, now I am 17 and school still gives homework. she reminds me of The lakes that a deeper than a sea, the Queen's like Lakshmibai and Sita because that's how I want to be. The kingdom that flourished, the kingdoms that vanished, the dream she lost and her words that were banished. Herself, who is  like the bank that is washed by the soft Ganga waves, Her sandy words that grow roses and sunflowers and then dig their own Graves, The stars that are lonely and yet together, the places where people go to find themselves in pleasant weather. The handkerchief that I must never forget and bring home back the books that I need to keep in my bag when I pack. The lights that need to be turned off and to shut the doors, to be careful while painting and not let the colour spill on the floor. The prayer and the love that she carries in her eyes, the hope and the faith that she tells me, 'never die'. My mother still reminds me of things.
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May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 3:01 AM UTC
Reminders
My mother has been reminding me of things, since I was 4, and the school started giving homework. She reminded me of the notebooks I needed to take, the drawing  I needed to make. the exams and competitions coming, the girl, I thought I was becoming. The answers I needed to remember, there are 31 August 30 September. the handkerchief I must never forget to bring home back, the books that needed to be kept when my bag when I used to pack. The words 'harsh' and 'cruel' that I should never speak, Gods and mythology all Indian and Greek. The way I should sit and walk and behave, the Queen's like Lakshmibai to tell me even I am brave. The lights that needed to be turned off and to shut the doors, to be careful while painting and not let the colours spill on the floor. My mother still reminds me of things, now I am 17 and school still gives homework. she reminds me of The lakes that a deeper than a sea, the Queen's like Lakshmibai and Sita because that's how I want to be. The kingdom that flourished, the kingdoms that vanished, the dream she lost and her words that were banished. Herself, who is  like the bank that is washed by the soft Ganga waves, Her sandy words that grow roses and sunflowers and then dig their own Graves, The stars that are lonely and yet together, the places where people go to find themselves in pleasant weather. The handkerchief that I must never forget and bring home back the books that I need to keep in my bag when I pack. The lights that need to be turned off and to shut the doors, to be careful while painting and not let the colour spill on the floor. The prayer and the love that she carries in her eyes, the hope and the faith that she tells me, 'never die'. My mother still reminds me of things.
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36
Se cern arginții boltei, prin sita de safir, Totul viu, ferice, crunt au să-l răpună. Și să-i facă rece, nesfârșit alb cimitir, Norii cei negri, oștirile lui Vânt s-adună. Regina Morții, cu dalba-i mantie, călare, Suflarea-i de sloi, a tăcerii pânză țeasă. Luncile cu joc și râset, pierdute-n uitare, Blestemul vieții de apoi, alb pustiu lasă. În codrul de plumb, un lup se tânguie amar, Cine ne-a luat a primăverii poftă de viață, Al verii dulce poem, al belșugului har? Se odihnesc toate, sub pătura de gheață.
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Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 2:28 PM UTC
Regina Morții
*The epics Says to have a woman like Sita in your life first You live like Rama..*
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May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 12:15 AM UTC
Ramayan
The mind whispers,walk the path of dharma,like Arjuna, with his bow drawn tight. The heart replies, let me offer love into it,like Meera, singing to her Krishna through the night. Situations whirl around me. Like the churning of the cosmic ocean—Samudra Manthan Where every choice pulls like devas and asuras Tugging between what’s right… and what’s desired. But my soul, ancient and still,speaks in the voice of Vishnu, resting upon Ananta. Soft, eternal, and unshaken Do what is necessary Time moves—like Shiva in his Tandava Moments rise and fall Karma spins its golden wheel. In the center of it all Like a flickering diya in the wind Like Draupadi with folded hands I stood… still. Not knowing what’s right and what’s desired. Until something touched me Not a voice, not a word,but a divine light Like the jyoti of Arunachala. The kind of light Yashoda must’ve See when she looked into Krishna’s mouth and saw the universe. It said: When your heart and mind stop their war and start walking together,like Lakshmi beside Vishnu grace flows into action. Miracles don’t just visit…They begin to live in you. When your soul accepts the leela,when it bends with the time,even suffering becomes prasad. Even poison, like Neelakantha’s, becomes a sacred strength. So I bow Not in surrender,but in sacred acceptance. I do not run after answers. I do not ask the winds to calm. I walk the sacred thread—that unseen sutra,woven by Saraswati’s wisdom and Sita’s silence. That ties duty to devotion. Lets love carry its weight. With no need for reward.
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Apr 11, 2025
Apr 11, 2025 at 2:10 PM UTC
When duty meets devotion
The mind whispers,walk the path of dharma,like Arjuna, with his bow drawn tight. The heart replies, let me offer love into it,like Meera, singing to her Krishna through the night. Situations whirl around me. Like the churning of the cosmic ocean—Samudra Manthan Where every choice pulls like devas and asuras Tugging between what’s right… and what’s desired. But my soul, ancient and still,speaks in the voice of Vishnu, resting upon Ananta. Soft, eternal, and unshaken Do what is necessary Time moves—like Shiva in his Tandava Moments rise and fall Karma spins its golden wheel. In the center of it all Like a flickering diya in the wind Like Draupadi with folded hands I stood… still. Not knowing what’s right and what’s desired. Until something touched me Not a voice, not a word,but a divine light Like the jyoti of Arunachala. The kind of light Yashoda must’ve See when she looked into Krishna’s mouth and saw the universe. It said: When your heart and mind stop their war and start walking together,like Lakshmi beside Vishnu grace flows into action. Miracles don’t just visit…They begin to live in you. When your soul accepts the leela,when it bends with the time,even suffering becomes prasad. Even poison, like Neelakantha’s, becomes a sacred strength. So I bow Not in surrender,but in sacred acceptance. I do not run after answers. I do not ask the winds to calm. I walk the sacred thread—that unseen sutra,woven by Saraswati’s wisdom and Sita’s silence. That ties duty to devotion. Lets love carry its weight. With no need for reward.
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34
My heart sank when the doctors said, " You have delivered a girl." Your battle began from that moment onward. They will criticise you in every step of your life. Whether you are tall, short, fair or dark. They will stab you in your back with smiling face and kindness in their eyes. They will abandon you in middle of nowhere. Lonely, lost and dazed you will wonder what you did was wrong. Cry! Cry your heart out! Coz, crying is not a sign of weakness but a sign of self expression. Cry till the fear, anger and hatred flows out. Then get back up with your trembling knees, look in the mirror and remember words of your mother - YOU are Strong, Brave and Fearless! You don't need a prince to rescue you coz I will raise you to be a warrior! Dance, painting and positive books no longer serve purpose in this Kaliyug! You will have to learn Karate, Self defence and Business tactics. To survive on this battlefront. Age of Parvati and Sita is long gone. You will have to train hard to be 'Kali' of this Kali-yug!
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Sep 19, 2019
Sep 19, 2019 at 2:14 PM UTC
To my Kali!