#Maiya the Devoted

[brijkerasiya]

माता कैला देवी चालीसा हिंदी अर्थ सहित (Kaila Devi Chalisa with Hindi translation)

माँ कैला देवी चालीसा विडियो माँ कैला देवी चालीसा  ॥ दोहा ॥ जय जय कैला मात हे तुम्हे नमाउ माथ। शरण पडूं में चरण में जोडूं दोनों हाथ॥ आप जानी जान हो मैं माता अंजान। क्षमा भूल मेरी करो करूँ तेरा गुणगान॥ ॥ चौपाई ॥ जय जय जय कैला महारानी, नमो नमो जगदम्ब भवानी। सब जग की हो भाग्य विधाता, आदि शक्ति तू सबकी माता। दोनों बहिना सबसे न्यारी, महिमा अपरम्पार तुम्हारी। शोभा सदन सकल गुणखानी, वैद पुराणन माँही…

[microlyric]

ॐ जय करवा मइया Om Jai Karwa Maiya Lyrics In Hindi– Devotional

ॐ जय करवा मइया Om Jai Karwa Maiya Lyrics In Hindi– Devotional

Hello friends if you are looking Om Jai Karwa Maiya Aarti lyrics then you landed right place so don’t worry relaxed and enjoyed the Devotional album all Songs lyrics peacefully at one place. You can find and read this lyrics easily in any smartphone and Tablet such as Samsung, Motorola, Sony, Xiaomi, Vivo, Oppo, LG, Huawei, Asus, Lava, Micromax, iTel, Nokia, Oneplus, iphone, HTC and other…

[janaknandini-singh999]

So much krishna but not enough Radharani in our gopiblr so I shall write some canon features about the Goddess Gopi and my fav bestie ever <3

"जो जग को मोहित करे वो मोहन, जो मोहन को मोहित करे वो राधा~"

Radha is your sweet seeming girl who's more mischievous than even krishna. Loving sister vibes. The daughter of Vrishbhanu and Kirtida, she's also the daughter Yashoda maiya never had, always helping her and teasing kanha with her. But in the end they both dearly give in to his leela.

She's sooo soft but very passionate and loyal when it comes to krishna and her sakhis. She heard Radha Kaise Na Jale and laughed throughout the song. "Radha is literally krishna and krishna is radha, how can I be jealous of other gopis when I want my kanha to be as much loved as possible?"

She twins with Rukmini and gives her tips as to how to enchant krishna. She makes handmade gifts and sweets for the Ashtabharya of Krishna. "What about mee!!? :(" krishna pouts and asks. "Kanha, all our childhood I've made maakhan for you. Won't you let me make something for my new sakhis now? Now shhh, don't disturb me"

She discusses everything with her bestie Parvati. "Mahadev is so devoted to you, and here kanha is always messing with me!! I don't like to pull his ears and chase him down when he runs away but he leaves me with no choice!!!"

Parvati smiles "If Krishna lets anyone joyfully punish him then it's his Radha."

[kanhapriya]

A KRISHNA SAKHI

Call me by my name

1. CHANDRIKA

Chandrika had met him when they were nothing but not a few months over 12, both young with mischief and miscellaneousness.

She didn't like him, the son of Nanda, her baba's friend. How dare he stop her in her way? How dare he steal her makhan, her water vessel, and even her clothes? She didn't like him at all.

He, on the other hand, had always declared to care for her, as if she were his friend, his Sakhi. No, she was not, not like her gopi confidantes who could leave everything they had if he so much so, said a word.

But she hoped, she desired she was.

Morning, noon and night, she wished to see him the way her sakhis did. The way they renounced all their senses and got lost in the inexhaustible ecstasy just by glancing at his complexion, Chandrika needed to feel that, needed to feel him.

She had once questioned her friend, "Nayani, what do you see when you look at him?"

Nayani had chuckled and turned red, "I see the cosmos in his gaze, Sakhi. I see the perfection of all rivers drifting in his tears that slip when he laughs. The dark night sky is but his reflection and the moon is his chandan tika. I see the devotion in him."

Chandrika wiped a tear off her face as she concluded the memories of the portrayal she couldn't see even though she tried her best, she couldn't see his divinity and she couldn't help but feel like she was transgressing by doing so.

She yearned to see him the way the other gopis saw him, with fondness and faith and pure pleasure, she dreamed of seeing him for what he was and not what her eyes advised her.

But whenever that makhanchor came in front of her, all she was was a boy with a peacock feather in his pagdi.

This yearning has been there since the day she met him, implying years ago. Now, almost an adult, her soul still sobbed for him. She didn't like him at all.

She didn't like him because no power in the world enabled her to cease loving him.

All she did was love him, and love him and love him.

Morning, noon or night, she saw him in her dreams, a charming and quiet smile on his face as he would approach her, grasping her face in her hands and just looking into her eyes. In her dreams, she would catch a glimpse of what her friends saw at all times.

Each dawn she got up with tears in her eyes, a routine in which the foremost thing she did was sprint to the sundeck of her cottage and trap a glimpse of the flute boy with his cows, walking towards the Goverdhan Parvat. And at that time she saw him laughing, an arm over Sudama's shoulder as his entire weight on his friend, who did nothing but hold him and grin.

Even right now as she glanced at the same view, her eyes sufficed with sadness. Would she ever see him for what he really was? Would she have to come to terms with what she was told?

The rest of the morning, Chandrika ran to Yamuna with her sakhis, filling water in their matkis and bumping into each other with the joy of spring.

However, Chandrika was too diligent with her thoughts to notice the laughter and merriment around her. His intellect was distracted with the Nandalal who was concerning her heart a lot today.

With every step she took, every breath she inhaled and every thought she invoked, it took her back to him.

While back home, the whole cycle occurred again. His friends broke their matkis and laughed in pleasure and her sakhis who were too far gone to say anything, just kept scrutinising them. But there was a discrepancy too.

'Where is your leader?" Prakriti asked, her eyes looking for her sweetheart, "Is he not participating in the Leela today?"

The boys laughed, "Your Shyam is not here today, Gopi,"

"Where is he? And why hasn't he come to meet us today?" Satyadevi questioned a pure and sacred sadness in her eyes.

"He is not gone on his own, Satya," Sudhama who could easily sense her hurt said, "Maiya Yashoda called him back a little while ago and sent him for a task. We do not know where he went."

Chandrika kept her ears open, admittingly eavesdropping on the dialogue, though she had feigned to pay no heed to them. A little part of her was glad that she didn't have to confront him today after he induced her so much misery but primarily, she was miserable.

The rest of the evening then passed soon, and Chandrika and her Maiya were getting prepared for the sandhya pooja when there was a sudden gasp. Fearing what transpired, Chandrika ran to her mother, who was on the floor of the rasoi, clutching her heart.

"What happened, Maiya?" She helped her mother off the ground, "Why did you cry out like that?"

"Putri," her mother started, "I was here to pick up the flowers you had brought from the forest last evening but as soon as I picked them up, they disappeared!"

"Disappeared?" Chandrika frowned, "Maybe your eyes tricked you?"

"No, Lali," Maiya picked up the flower basket, "It is completely empty now."

Indeed it was. The basket looked like no flower had touched it in a week. There was not even the residual scent left.

"Don't worry, Maiya, I'll go and bring flowers from the forest before the aarti starts." With that Chandrika left for the forest to bring the mogra.

As she transcended deep into the forest, her heart grew wary. He hadn't seen him today, only a glimpse in the morning, that's it.

There was fear in her heart. She had always told him to leave her alone, to not include her in his shenanigans with the gopis. Everything he would roll his eyes and say that it was not possible and even though she would pretend to be annoyed, it filled her heart with such love.

She had said the same to him yesterday but his response hadn't been the same. He just smiled at her but even his smile wasn't the usual. It was sad and melancholic and disheartening as if he had to take a step that he didn't want to.

She stopped in her path. Has he finally let her go? Was he done with her behaviour towards him? She couldn't blame him but her heart would not be able to afford that distance. The pain of this peculiar separation would eat her up like the way eagles ate dead meat.

The basket of flowers fell from her hands and she ran, ran to where she would often find him in the forest, under the biggest Kadamba Tree on his favourite swing.

Unbeknownst to Chandra ti, her feet carried her though she didn't recognise any of the paths she ran on. All she did was run to the boy who had her heart and did not know it. Who had yet to know what her eyes wanted to tell him since forever. Who forever thought she didn't like him, her Shyam?

As her eyes started to blur from the tears and her chest painted for a breath, a small branch of a tree tore her chunri as she ran, the Kadamba.

Even with the tears, she smiled. No matter what, where or how, he always found a way to trouble her. She stopped, eyes fixed on the fruit-bearing tree in front of her. The truck was dark and beautiful, just like him and the curved branches were no less gorgeous and breathtaking than his curly, long hair.

Chandrika fell on her knees as a cry left from her mouth, He wasn't there, gone now. Who would she sleep for now? If he didn't come to her dreams, it was worthless to see them. If he wasn't the one who called her Sakhi, she would rather be friends less and if he wasn't there in front of her, she would rather not see the world.

Out of desperation, she called his name, one last time if he decided to never come in front of her ever again she chanted his name in her heart and as it forcefully left her lips.

"Krishna!"

Everything was still all around, all but the sound of her sniffles as she hugged her body and cried, silent and exhausted.

But then it happened, a small breeze of air on her face and it seemed like her tears had dried like the leaves in autumn. The whistle of the air was loud but it could not overpower the sound of his flute.

Chandrika opened her eyes and lifted her head off the ground, the way a child did after hearing the call from his mother.

And she looked up, she knew her life was now doomed.

He was walking towards her, just like he did in her dream, his night cloud-like skin shone brightly under the setting sun. It was a divine contrast and if she wasn't already on the ground, her knees would've given up already.

His black beetle iris I'm middle of his lotus-like eyes was more beautiful than the whole of the Vrindavan forest and brought tears of her own.

But the most beautiful part was his smile, the way his eyebrows turned and eyes narrowed as his tulsi-shaped lips curved was no less divine than the shadow of Lord Vishnu himself.

He approached her, sat in front of her just like he did in her dreams, took her face in his hands, and Chandrika finally saw what all the Shyam premis saw. This time she wasn't dreaming.

"Sakhi," his voice echoed in her heart, and her eyes started to shed tears, "I'm here now because you called me." There were healing powers in the vibration of his voice and in that moment, Chandrika felt the worldly infections, all getting cleansed away from her body.

"Sakhi," she started again, "Are you happy now?" He was smiling knowingly but this time it didn't irritate her heart.

"You wanted to see me the way everyone else did," he wiped her tears, "Aren't you happy?"

"I am," she smiled, "Forgive me, Manohar. I don't know why I was unable to see your beauty with my eyes."

He laughed at her and Chandrika knew she would die and take another birth even as a kadamba fruit if that would mean him looking at her the way he was right now.

He chucked again, "No need to die, Sakhi. It is very unfortunate that you've never realised it, but I always look at you like this. There is no change in me, just your heart."

"What is that change, Shyam? What is different within me?" Chandrika didn't know what had happened since the morning, but she knew he would.

"You opened your eyes, Sakhi." He wiped the tears off her face again, this time they stopped, " Since the day we met, you had a blindfold over your eyes that prevented you from seeing the truth.

"You've always loved me, priye, but your mind refused to let that happen. Your pride was too strong to break away from. But your heart? It was still surrendered to me. Unknown to you, it beats for me, Day or night."

'But this morning, there was a change. Your heart couldn't bear the weight of your pride anymore and broke away from its clutches. The moment you saw me this morning, you were liberated from your only flaw."

She kept looking at her peacock feather boy, as her soul finally smiled through her body, "Is this how all your other sakhis see you, mrignayan?"

His smile didn't flatter even a second, "No, Chandra ti, not at all."

She frowned, was he more beautiful than he appeared right now? Did the other Gopis see him in that form rather than this one?

"The answer is yes and no." He finally pulled her up from the ground and his feet and guided her to the swing, "I'm much much more beautiful than any human eye can see and this is not even a fraction of what radiance I have."

If it were any normal scenario, she would've raised an eyebrow at his words, but she knew that every word that came out of her mouth was true.

"And the other gopis are all also human, though their love cannot be compared to that of those. All the sakhis, whom you envied, priye, for being able to see me have a different image of what my beauty is. The physical features are the same, yes but the perception is not. For some, it seems dark as a cloud for some, dark as the night. For some, I smile like a child and for some like a handsome man. My eyes are like lotus petals to some and doe to others. Meaning, no two gopis see me the same, Chandra ."

"How can I see your true essence then, Keshava?"

'Close your eyes, Sakhi," he sat her on the swing and guided her hands to the flower-draped rope that managed its weight. Then he lifted his right hand and closed her eyes with his soft cushiony fingers. "What you find in your heart, is what I am Chandra ."

Chandrika let the boy do as he willed, not hesitating to trust him now. She tried to find what he asked in her heart, a light fear that it would disappoint him.

"What do you see?" his voice came from behind her now, as he started to sway the swing, his hands over hers.

"I-" Fear plagued her soul. What if the reflection she was in her heart wasn't up to his satisfaction? Would he not be disappointed? She would rather not say anything, than say anything wrong.

"Fear is a disease, priye," the air gushing from each of the swings pushes made her hair fall on her face, "Let it go, for I'm with you."

The Bansi bajaiya was with her.

"I promise you that nothing that you see will disappoint me in you, for anything you see is inevitably a part of me"

A part of him, a part of Kishore. Wasn't she too a part of him?

"See, sakhi," he tucked a few pieces of her hair behind her ears, his fingers burning a tickle on them, "See and accept me."

Chandrika let the dark of her view consume her, waiting for what she was supposed to see, but nothing came.

"Why do I not see anything, Mohan?" Her shoulders slumped in loss but he laughed, " Nothing? Pay a little close attention to it, sakhi. Do you see nothing? Or do you see everything that has ever existed?"

She peeked into the darkness again as his grip on her hands tightened. She saw the dark night sky with clouds, she saw little kids playing in their mothers' laps and a group of baby birds learning to fly.

She was the deepest underbed of the oceans and the 12-headed serpent that rested. She saw the Goverdhan Parvat and the rain that fell on it. She was the stars and the moon and everything in between them, she saw the whole universe.

But at last, she saw herself. She saw the scene she was in right now as if her soul had temporarily left her body to enjoy the holiness of his radiance even. She saw him looking directly into her eyes, and though he was still swinging her body, he kept looking at her with his tulsi-like pure smile. Then he winked.

Chandrika gasped and opened her eyes, breath stuck in her lungs as she held onto the flower rope for dear life. She looked behind, the swing was now still and he was not behind her. She looked around, now standing up and searching for him, who hadn't really left, just sat under the tree.

"What did you see, priye?"

"I saw everything, Mohan." She fell in front of him, and took his hands in hers, "I saw the absolute ordinary and bizarre. The great and the slight. The woes and the foes. And I saw you, shining bright in all of it."

He just smiled, his eyes looking at their entangled hands that she had a death grip on, "I won't run away, Sakhi." His eyes were sad for a moment, "at least not right now."

Chandrika knew he meant something else in totality but she didn't care at the moment. She would worry when she was back at her home, all alone. Till then, she would bask in his presence.

"I finally saw you," she rested her head on his shoulder, relaxing into his presence, "And I've never felt more actual."

She could listen to his heart beating at the moment, and it synced with hers, loud and alive.

He rested his head on hers then, the way she always saw him do with the other gopis and get jealous. But right now, she felt a lasting pleasure and all the malignancy in her heart was gone. She could no longer curse her friends for falling for the makhanchor.

"Chandra," her name sounded prettier than the whole world at that moment, "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything, Sakha."

"There is something that still bothers my heart, about you." She could feel both of them slipping into a slumber of peace, "Call me by my name, Chandra ."

Her heart sped up, "Krishna?"

He tutted, "Not this one. This one is for the world. Call by the name all my sakhis call, the name by which Maiya Yashoda calls me, the name people who love me, cherish. "

"I'm afraid, I can't do that Manohar." Her cheeks flushed as she nuzzled her face deep into his neck, "Or I'll never be able to get over you."

"Do you want to get over me, Sakhi?" His voice was full of mirth, "Have I not impressed you enough?"

"No," she breathed.

"To the first question or the latter?"

"That's for you to decide." She smiled as her flute boy laughed the heartiest she'd ever felt him do.

As the laughter died down, he spoke again, "Take my name, Chandra."

She thought about all the times he'd approached her as a child, asking her to come and play with the rest of them, and how she'd say no, leaving a disappointed look on his face. She would not sin, yet again.

Taking the last deep breath, she pronounced, "Kanha."

This was roughly inspired by a dream I had a few months ago and wanted to write about it for a while.

Hope you guys like it and enjoy

Radha Radhe💜

[tamamonomaes]

This is not intendend to be a go at anyone, more so me just sharing my thoughts as a friendly debate but. While I get people's criticisms of zero, I really do, as a women myself, the whole women get hurt thing has just never bothered me because everyone gets hurt. There's some fair criticism in the misogynistic thing -- the thing I thought was a bit misogynistic about Zero was how every woman was ultimately a tool for a man's goal. Iri being the grail that Kerry has to use to achieve his own ideals, Rin and Sakura being tools for their respective families, Saber being powerful yet forced into a situation with very little agency and a lot of her personality being removed to win the grail for kiritsugu, Maiya straight up devoting herself to kiritsugu's goals -- when she's injured Kirutsugu straight up asks when he can "use" her again. Sola ui had potential for agency but unfortunately that was taken from her very quickly and her agency revolved around a man anyway. So yeah, it's not like FZ is ideal when it comes to female characters, but lots of anime have that problem. I just dont think "women get hurt" has any merit. Like when you think about it, Sakura's, Saber's, Iryisviel and even Rin's fates in fz were all decided by Nasu and I dont see people calling him a misogynist. Yes, Urobochi wrote the scenario how they got there but ultimately it was nasu who doomed them from the start. From a writing perspective, it just makes sense that FZ would end in failure for the characters so that there would be a reason for people to come back to fsn. They want people to see these characters succeed and be happy and having fz end in failure for them adds more stakes to the journey there, it makes you feel like these characters CAN fail. I don't know what Urobochi had planned for Sakura, but at the end of the day this is all fictional. If you're going to acknowledge that what he planned was bad you also have to acknowledge that the suffering Nasu put her through was also terrible. Yeah maybe he gets a little lost in the suffering sauce, maybe you can notice a trend if you examine all his works, but isolating fz zero alone, I just don't think Urobochi is a bad person for writing FICTIONAL scenarios. All writers put their characters through shit and if we take heavens feel into account, we KNOW that sakura can have her happy ending.

[barkskins]

💕

send 💕 and I will tell you some muses of ours I think could work as a ship.  ( feel free to message me to establish any connections or brainstorm further ! )

spencer & maiya — we could have a really cool supernatural/fantasy plot here. maiya is a mage and an assassin—perhaps she is tasked with protecting spencer and their abilities, and in turn on their journey they develop something that's stronger than simply friendship. an otherworldly devotion, an affection that knows no bounds; maiya would lay down her life for the wix and, in return, wishes only for the other to treat her heart as it had always yearned to be treated. as though it were something to be cherished. after losing her sisters maiya has been closed off, impenetrable. until now. there could also be the sweet dynamic of teaching each other how best to utilise their powers. maiya is a mage, but she deals primarily in ferrokinesis—there is still much to learn about her powers, her sexuality, and about the love that lies in wait, willing her to simply discover it.

clayton & park-ji — park-ji, or pj, is the bassist in a pop-punk band named fish brains, fronted by jaden lapointe. they are working tirelessly towards a record deal but, thanks to their vocalist and front man being rather preoccupied, it is mostly up to pj to make ends meet, to arrange gigs and try to make a name for themselves. their father was a cruel man, and so every day pj fights to become something. i can imagine she and clayton met at a show; whether he thinks they are any good is up for debate, but there would certainly be stars in pj's eyes whenever their gazes meet across a bar or a poky little campus venue. it could develop into late nights songwriting together, playing each other demos, moments where clayton is behind pj and guiding her fingers over nylon threads. if they are going to make it, they'll make it together.

[8817446220]

#छठ_पूजा_Reality

Our sorrows cannot be removed by worshiping Chhathi Maiya and Suryadev. Rather, our sorrows i.e. sins can be ended only by true devotion to God KavirDev (Kabir Saheb). – Yajurveda Chapter 5 Mantra 32

Satlok Ashram YouTube Channel

[vikramsinghchauhan]

#छठ_पूजा_Reality

Our sorrows cannot be removed by the worship of Chhath Maiya and Sun God. Rather, our sorrows i.e. sins can be ended only by the devotion of God KavirDev (Kabir Saheb). – Yajurveda Chapter 5 Mantra 32

Satlok Ashram YouTube Channel

[dangerouschildchaos]

There is a belief on Chhath Puja that by observing the waterless fast of Chhathi Maiya as per the rituals, a childless person gets a child. Just consider that if this had happened then no sister or daughter would have been childless today. In fact, all happiness is achieved only by true devotion to God Kabir.

#chhath #chhathpuja #chhathmahaparv #chhathpooja #chhathparv

#explorepage #bhakti #chhath_puja #chhathpuja2023 #trendingnow #trending #bihar #bihari

#SantRampalJiMaharaj #SaintRampalJi

[kanhapriya]

A KRISHNA SAKHI

But she'd still love him.

(Please listen to the song on a loop while reading)

2. Pratiksha

There were many ways in which he came to her.

Like the breeze, gentle and delicate and soothing as if he understood that nothing could bring her the feeling of solace that he did. Nothing but him was that serene to live.

He also came like the rain, dropping all over her body, places where she would only ever allow him, no one else. Like the rain, he carried an attractive melancholic ambience with him, just like the rain, he was erratic and captivating. Like the rain, he brought with him a distinct scent.

Sometimes, he was in the sunny sky, painful to bear but beautiful nonetheless. Like he was the giver of life and death, glowing so luminous for the whole world and somehow still just a sliver of his real light is perceptible to her.

The soil, he for sure was a part of. He'd let people walk on him but when it was too much, he halted his stillness and responded to what was must. He bore so much life, that no one could exist without him, his essence and true personality.

 

Moon too was just him in guise. When the moonlight would glow in her dark chamber, a small part of the room would light up. Those places were the ones he'd always sit on.

Her soul was him, a part of him. He was her himself. She knew he was every part of her, her mind, her heart, her body, her soul and all her features. He was her flowing hair, her black kohl and her sharp nose. He was her.

But her favourite way of him coming to her was when he was her Kanha, her Keshav.

He'd come to her in so many forms, yet Krishna was the one she could never oppose. 

In the form of Krishna, he met her so many times and never at the same time. He was Krishna but not the one she'd see in the crowd, not the one he'd see with Maiya Yashoda or Nand Baba or even Balram Dau. Not even his companions, or other girlfriends. He'd come to her like a Krishna she had never seen before and it stunned her each time.

He was blissful, ecstatic and euphoric all together when he came to her. As Krishna, when he'd step into her room through the window with his lotus-like feet, freshly smeared allta, she knew he'd leave behind traces, few more seeable than others.

When he'd come to her, Pratiksha would accept him in any form.

His hands would grip the periphery of her window on such nights, and she'd keep looking at him with learning eyes, how he must have lied to Maiya Yashoda about going out with his boyfriends. She'd look at him with mischievousness as he would hold the window for dear life.

"Sakhi, help me at least?" He would say out of weariness when sweat would wet his hair and he'd have to toil to keep them off his hair. Then he'd shake the sweat away, looking so lovely that she'd let him struggle. 

However, when he'd bumble a bit too much for even her liking, she'd approach him, slowly, a little tormenting retribution, out of pure devotion. She'd hold his hand, his fingers enveloped all around her wrist as he burdened her with his weight and finally climbed up her room.

After she pulled him up, he'd collapse just on her, not even allowing her to breathe, and she'd laugh the loudest she was allowed to without waking her parents. Sometimes she thought all of it was just a play to him, so she'd help him up and he'd catch her in his arms.

"Kanha, I'll die " she'd try to push him up as he just rested, "I'm too young right now."

"But Sakhi, " he would fake taking deep breaths.  "I'm too tired to move now."

"Come on, oh Nathkhat," she'd finally breathe ad he would lift some of his weight off  "Thank the lord, Narayana,"

He'd grumbled whenever she'd take the name of Lord Narayana, along the lines of, 'Literally in front of you,' but she would pay no heed to him.

When he finally stood up, he'd make himself relaxed on her bed, laying on it like a starfish, his exquisite redolence, colouring her room. She'd go and sit next to him, and using her chunri, she'd wipe the sweat off his forehead. He'd close his eyes but a smile would be present on his face.

He'd hold her wrist and stop the whole wiping thing after a while, "Come on now, Sakhi," he'd sit up, her wrist still in his hand, "I'm not here get coddled," he would roll his eyes, "Or I would've stayed with Dau or even Maiya."

She'd snatch back her hand, a smile threatening to come over but she hid.

"Then Why Are you here?"

"You tell me."

"Tell you what?" Her brows would turn up and he would ever so gently lift his fingers and ease them. Then she'd smile.

"Tell me, why do you let me in?" He would stand up from the bed then, and approach her dressing space, a small hand mirror placed there that he would pick up and make the moonlight reflect on her face, "Why do you let me trouble you almost every consecutive day?" 

She'd look at him, and he would raise his brows in question, and then She'd blush and look away at the moon every time.

"I let you in because-" she knew it was impossible to find the right answer to his inquiries, no matter how straightforward they were.

What could possibly be the reason if not him?

His smile, his complexion, his existence. Weren't they good enough reasons? Would she have to answer to the world as to why she would allow a not-so-ordinary cowherd boy into her room in the dead of night? Would she have to prove to the world her intentions to protect her laaj?

But those had been secondary issues then, Krishna being her prime. And She'd endure all the world's allegations if it went to be in his presence for a small while. 

"I let you in because I'm selfish." She'd answered truthfully, not caring if it would make her seem wrong. She was selfish enough to want him but it was the most selfless she'd ever been.

He'd look confused, though with a hint of mischief in his star-like thinking eyes, "Selfish?" 

Then he would approach her again, the mirror still in his hands as would sit in front of her, "I'd say, it's quite the opposite." He would raise his hands and tuck a stray piece of hand behind her ears, "Isn't it so, Sakhi? It's selfless."

She'd keep looking at him, the beauty of his beetle eyes capturing her into the slow trap he'd set up.

"It's love."

She'd not blink, how could she?  He would be in front of her and she'd be sinned if even a second was spent without his glimpse.

Her voice would be lost too, the thirst of her throat for water or words, she wasn't sure but she'd desperately need it.

There would be silence worth a thousand words in those few moments. Just Pratiksha and her love personified as a beautiful blue boy.

"Wouldn't you know so much about love?" There was yet again fun in her tone, something that she'd noticed only happened with him.

"Me?" He'd fake being surprised, "Don't be funny, my mohini. You know love so much better than me."

She'd entwine both their hands and kiss the back of his, the skin so soft and cold yet warm, just like she remembered. 

"Indeed I do." She'd look at him, tears overwhelming in her eyes, "For you are what I think is Love. And I know you,"

He'd smile then, not out of a trick or joke or fun poking but genuine, his tulsi smile, too pure, "Better than me?" He'd ask.

"Better than yourself." She'd nod with firm faith and he'd pull her in his arms and she would allow him, every night.

As she would lay on his chest, he'd soothe her mind with his soft head touches which would often lead to a dismantled hairstyle, but they'd ignore it and open the braid completely. 

Pratiksha would then take the hand mirror from him and keep it at a distance from them so she could not waste even a second by not seeing his face, which would also do wonders for his ego.

"I must say, " he'd say between the silence, "Your Lord Narayana must've blessed me with quite a beautiful counter face."

Till then, she'd be in an already deep trance most would call sleep but she would love. 

With no answer in return, Krishna would turn to the mirror to look at her reflection,  mostly finding her in a euphoric stance. 

He'd then allow himself to turn a little, not moving much but to face her. He'd trace the flower pattern above his eyebrows and on her forehead,  the one he'd only make each morning, before bidding farewell for the day.

It would be a comfortable routine for them, dancing through the day and enjoying a slumber together, with peace and silence. 

The next morning when she would wake up, her kahna would be awake too, mixing the fresh flowers he'd brought somehow, and readying the paint for their faces.

She'd stand up, laziness still deep in her body as she'd approach him, "How do you always wake up before me?"

Only then, he'd notice her presence and try not to laugh at her dishevelled appearance, "You look especially beautiful in the morning, priye."

She would be too tired to get angry at his jokes but just look at him who still looked like a world full of happiness and laughter.

She'd sit next to him on the seating in front of the mirror, looking at the colours he'd prepared. 

"Your hair is a mess, Sakhi, " he'd tug on her open hair, "Come, let me tie them."

She'd keep quiet and let him, as she would snuggle deep into her own embrace, the morning dew making her cold. He'd keep pulling some parts of her hair, braiding them as she'd just feel his fingers all through her hair.

After he'd made the hairstyle, as beautiful as all the waterfalls of the world, he'd turn her around, and bring a wet cloth to her face and wipe away all her sleep and paint from yesterday. 

"What flower do you want today, priye?" He'd pick up the bronze bowl with colour and a peacock feather, "What should I paint today?"

"Do as you wish," she'd look into his big dilated eyes, "I know it will look good."

He'd keep smiling as the peacock feather dipped into the white colour and the flowers and bela he'd start drawing. With each delicate stroke of the top, a petal would be created, and with every six petals, a flower would be complete. Like this, the hours would pass and they would read each other with love, colour and laughter. 

And once again, Pratiksha would be reminded that her favourite way of him coming to her was as Kanha, Krishna. 

The routine existed no more. 

Pratiksha no longer exists.

Neither did her room or her friends. 

Vrindavan too is gone now.

They'd cease to exist the day her Kanha had gone away forever. 

Now what existed wasn't what it used to be.

Vrindavan cried now, every second of her existence was spent with sadness now, her rivers bare, stripped of their waves and joy, her mountains, not stable enough to handle the loss of their favourite cowherd. 

No Gopi in Vrindavan truly smiled anymore. Smiles had faded into frowns just the way day faded into night, slowly, taking its sweet time.

And Pratiksha? She hadn't awakened in months.

She'd spent all her days just like she was right now.

As she lay motionless on her bed, her eyes were finished if all the tears she could hold in her two eyes.

Her heart was beating, not with life but with pain, misery and discontent and as she tried to stand up from the bed, her body gave up. Pratiksha was plagued by memories, plagued by him.

She finally gathered all her might, taking the support of the bed still to reach the window of her room.

The window.

It was still there, unlike him. That Makhan chor wasn't there anymore.

Each night, just like today, she would crawl up to the window still from where he would come to her. And just like today, she looked down there, no sign of him, no sign at all.

She would then sit with the support of the opposite wall, looking at her room, which was filled with him. From the floor to the ceiling to the wall to the flowers by her bed, all was him.

How was one to forget it all?

Now no one would climb up her window late at night, no one would beg her to help him up. No one would pretend to be exhausted and lay on top of her till she begged for mercy. No one would call her Sakhi anymore, not like he did.

She'd wait for him, penance endlessly to see his face again, to hear him laugh and giggle again, to hear the madhurya sound of his flute and hum along it once again. But he said he won't be back ever, that history was waiting for him. And who was Pratiksha to anger the immortal she?

But that didn't mean losing hope, right? No, she'd still wait for him. Wait for him to climb up the window yet again someday, and to call for her with the same amount of immense love. She'd wait till her teeth rot and her skin falls.

But right now, she'd cry tears of a lifetime, because her Keshav was gone.

Now she had to wake up alone, bed empty.  No one was there to caress her cheek, to lovingly stroke her hair and turn them into a mess. Neither would anyone wipe off her tiredness with a bare cloth. No one would be able to love her, no one but Kanha.

She had no one to look at now, through the hand mirror, no one to lay on the chest. No one would calm all her fears with a sleight of hand. No one would ever come close to the experience of him.

She wouldn't allow anyone to, no. Her love was only for Kanha. How dare anyone think that she'd forget her Shyam ever?

Krishna was in her, was her and forgetting herself wasn't a decision she was gonna make. She'd wait for her Kanha to come back one day, a year later, 5 years later, a decade later, a lifetime later. She'd stay.

But hey Narayana, for long would she have to cry for her Kanha? Would he never visit her now? Was that the last time she got to look at his face? Was that the last time she touched him, played with his soft fingers, rested in his lap and braided his long curly hair? Would he be able to live without her for so long? She certainly wouldn’t. 

Even thinking of spending a lifetime without getting lost in his dark beautiful eyes was a sin.

His flute, how would she not hear it at least once again? 

No, this was pure torture, and he was the ever-enjoyer.  She comforted herself with many arguments, one being that this was all a big joke, a text of her prem like he always did. But he had to come back. He had to or she would lose her mind.

Did he expect her to let go of this easily? Wasn't she his priye? Which honoured lover would leave his priye to spend a life long in wanting? No, he was Nirmohan but not to an extent that could kill her. He realised this, right?

Then Why did he cry that day, when he came for the last time? Why was he unable to keep his hands from shaking as he tied her braid with flowers? 'Param Shringar' he had called it, the most beautiful he'd made her ready.

He had painted her hand with the leftover flower and tears. 'It'll stay forever, a reminder of me in case you forget,' he had smiled with tears and kissed her palms, some paint on his lips too.

As she looked at her hand now, the smudged part was still visible after so long, the whole palm filled with colours, black and blue petals and flowers. 

He was gone, wasn't he?

A sob came up again, and Pratiksha didn't try to stop it. She sobbed as much as she could, loud and livid, her head throbbed with pain and exhaustion and nothingness and her Kanha. Where was that boy? Why wasn't he here, with her head in his lap? 

Her eyes longed to look at the face of her Nirmohan, oh how he was living up to the name.

He'd come to her as the breeze, uprooting all her beliefs and taking them away with him. As the wind, he would dry up her tears, when he physically couldn't. She'd still love him.

He'd come to her as the rain too, in her dull life, trying to some life to her death. He would fail miserably and then fall on her face as small droplets, mixing with her tears. She'd still love him.

These days, he'd shine less, not troubling her even more. He'd let her escape from his rays and feel more of his might and shine from wherever he was. She'd still love him.

When she would go on the bank of Yamuna to bring back water, he'd stuck to her feet, making her laugh for a second, but then she'd remember. She'd remember how she'd been like that too, the day he was going away. She'd still love him.

On nights, when she'd exhaust all her tears, he'd fall on her as the moonlight, emitting grace and his colour. That would make her cry again, but she'd still love him.

Her soul? It was already a part of his existence. Once he was gone, he'd take her with him. She'd still love him.

But her favourite form, her Kanha? Oh, how she missed. All night she would wait for the morning hoping he'd play his flute and declare it all a big crack. All day she'd wait for the night, so maybe, just maybe he'd climb up her window once again.

He'd disappointed her both times. 

She'd still love him.

She'd still wait for him.

When he would marry all his wives, she'd still wait and love him.

When he would finally become dwarkapati, she'd still wait and love him.

When he'd protect Draupadi from men and their sorts, she'd still wait and love him.

When he'd lead Arjuna to the war, and become his sarthi, she'd still wait and love him.

When old age would dawn upon and her hair turned grey with patience, she'd wait for death. 

And he would come to her, in her favourite form yet again, for the final journey. And she? She'd still love him. Because that was all she ever remembered. 

Loving him was her only memory.

[ashok6206875kumar]

Our sorrows cannot be removed by worshiping Chhathi Maiya & Suryadev. Rather, only with the devotion of God Kavirdev (Kabir Saheb) can our sorrows i.e. sins be eliminated. – Yajurveda Chapter 5 Mantra 32

#छठ_पूजा_Reality

[roshan-shiimperial]

Chhath Puja: A Celebratory Spectacle in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh

Introduction

Chhath Puja, one of the most significant festivals celebrated in the Indian states of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, is a unique and fervently observed occasion. It holds a special place in the hearts of millions, uniting people from diverse backgrounds in their devotion to the sun god. In this article, we will delve into the rich history and significance of Chhath Puja, exploring why it is so enthusiastically celebrated in these two northern states of India.

Historical Roots of Chhath Puja

Chhath Puja can trace its origins back to ancient Indian scriptures, primarily the Rigveda, where it finds its first mentions. This revered festival is dedicated to the worship of the sun god, Surya, and Chhathi Maiya, who is considered to be Surya's sister or consort. With its roots deeply embedded in Vedic traditions, Chhath Puja has been celebrated for thousands of years, making it one of the oldest surviving Hindu festivals.

Significance of Chhath Puja

1. Sun Worship: Chhath Puja is a unique festival because it primarily involves the worship of the sun, a celestial body revered for its life-giving properties. The sun is seen as a symbol of energy, vitality, and good health. Devotees believe that by offering their prayers to the sun god, they receive blessings for the well-being and prosperity of their families.

2. Natural Cleansing and Detoxification: Chhath Puja holds great significance for its association with the purification of the body and soul. Fasting, rituals bathing in rivers or other water bodies, and practicing specific yogic postures during the festival are believed to cleanse the body of toxins, both physical and spiritual.

3. Communal Harmony: This festival transcends the boundaries of caste, creed, and social status, as people from all walks of life come together to celebrate Chhath Puja. It promotes unity and inclusivity, fostering a sense of community among the people of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh.

4. Environmental Awareness: Chhath Puja has a deep-rooted connection with nature and the environment. The rituals involve taking a dip in rivers and lakes, which highlights the importance of clean and pure water sources. The eco-friendly nature of the festival, with its minimal use of artificial materials, also reflects the community's commitment to environmental preservation.

Celebration of Chhath Puja

Chhath Puja is a four-day festival, usually celebrated in the months of October or November. The rituals and celebrations include:

1. Nahay Khay: The first day, known as Nahay Khay, involves devotees taking a ritual bath and preparing special food items like thekua and thekari to be offered to the sun god.

2. Lohanda and Kharna: On the second day, known as Lohanda or Kharna, fasting without water is observed from sunrise to sunset. In the evening, devotees prepare kheer and roti, which is consumed after performing the evening rituals.

3. Sanjhiya Arghya: The evening of the third day is dedicated to offering Arghya (offerings) to the setting sun. Devotees gather near water bodies, be it rivers or ponds, and offer prayers to the sun god with deep devotion.

4. Usha Arghya: The final day of Chhath Puja is dedicated to offering Arghya to the rising sun. Devotees wake up early, head to the water bodies, and offer their prayers to the sun as it begins its journey across the sky.

Why is Chhath Puja Celebrated with Zeal in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh?

Chhath Puja is celebrated with exceptional zeal in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh due to several reasons:

1. Historical and Cultural Significance: Both states have deep cultural and historical ties to the festival. The roots of Chhath Puja run deep in the traditions of these regions, and the celebrations have been passed down through generations.

2. Religious Devotion: The people of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh have a strong religious and spiritual connection to Chhath Puja. It is seen as a sacred duty and a way to seek blessings from the sun god for the well-being of their families.

3. Community Bonding: The festival fosters a strong sense of community and belonging among the people of these states. It provides an opportunity for family and friends to come together, strengthen their bonds, and celebrate their shared heritage.

4. Geographical and Environmental Relevance: The Gangetic plains of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh are blessed with numerous rivers, making it an ideal location for the performance of Chhath rituals. The close proximity to water bodies plays a pivotal role in the festival's grandeur.

Conclusion

Chhath Puja, with its historical significance, environmental consciousness, and emphasis on community unity, stands as a testament to the rich cultural heritage of Bihar and Uttar Pradesh. This extraordinary festival, dedicated to the worship of the sun god, holds a special place in the hearts of millions, not just in these states, but across the entire Indian subcontinent. As Chhath Puja continues to thrive and evolve, it remains a shining example of the enduring traditions that bind communities together, promoting harmony, spirituality, and devotion.

[kwebhakti]

भक्ति से जुड़े नए भजन सुनने के लिए हमे फॉलो करें ! 👇👇👇  

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