#Miracle of Sai baba

[devotional-theme-park-shirdi]

Top 10 Attractions in Shirdi

Shirdi is a small town in the Ahmednagar district of Maharashtra, India. It is known as the spiritual abode of Sai Baba, a 19th-century saint who is revered by Hindus, Muslims, and Christians alike. Shirdi is a popular pilgrimage destination, and it is also a growing tourist destination.

Here are the top 10 attractions in Shirdi Saiteerth:

Sai Baba Temple: The Sai Baba Temple is the most important attraction in Shirdi. It is the place where Sai Baba's tomb is located. The temple is a beautiful complex that includes a number of shrines, a museum, and a library.

Sai Teerth Theme Park: Sai Teerth Theme Park is a devotional theme park that is based on the life of Sai Baba. The park has a number of rides, attractions, and shows that are related to Sai Baba's teachings.

Wet n Joy Water Park: Wet n Joy water park is located in Shirdi. The park is a popular place to visit for its water rides, slides, and pools.

Dwarkamai Masjid: Dwarkamai Masjid is the mosque where Sai Baba spent most of his time. It is a small, simple mosque that is still used for worship today.

Lendi Gardens: Lendi Gardens are a beautiful park located near the Sai Baba Temple. The gardens are a popular place to relax and escape the hustle and bustle of the town.

Dixit Wada Museum: Dixit Wada Museum is a museum dedicated to the life and teachings of Sai Baba. The museum houses a collection of artifacts, photographs, and documents related to Sai Baba.

Khandoba Mandir: Khandoba Mandir is a Hindu temple dedicated to the deity Khandoba. The temple is a beautiful example of Hindu architecture.

Maruti Mandir: Maruti Mandir is a Hindu temple dedicated to the deity Maruti. The temple is a popular place for pilgrims to visit.

Shri Saibaba Sansthan Temple: Shri Saibaba Sansthan Temple is a temple dedicated to Sai Baba. The temple is a popular place for pilgrims to visit.

Sai Baba Hill: Sai Baba Hill is a hill that is located near the Sai Baba Temple. The hill is a popular place to visit for its panoramic views of Shirdi.

These are just a few of the many attractions that Shirdi Saiteerth has to offer. With its rich history, beautiful temples, and serene atmosphere, Shirdi is a place that is sure to leave a lasting impression on visitors.

[brijkerasiya]

श्री साईं बाबा चालीसा

श्री साईं बाबा चालीसा विडियो श्री साईं बाबा चालीसा पहले साई के चरणों में, अपना शीश नमाऊं मैं। कैसे शिरडी साई आए, सारा हाल सुनाऊं मैं॥1॥ कौन है माता, पिता कौन है, ये न किसी ने भी जाना। कहां जन्म साई ने धरा, प्रश्न पहेली रहा बना॥2॥ कोई कहे अयोध्या के, ये रामचंद्र भगवान हैं। कोई कह���ा साई बाबा, पवन पुत्र हनुमान हैं॥3॥ कोई कहता मंगल मूर्ति, श्री गजानंद हैं साई। कोई कहता गोकुल मोहन, देवकी नन्दन हैं…

[corvuscorona]

akuse! on github. honestly i only use it for older anime which i cant source copies of both online and offline. really curious about the sources they use bc i searched extensively for some anime online and couldnt find it for years and they just. HAVE it. they dont have any appimages just a linux guide on how to build it yourself with the terminal. there's not that many steps but i'm so scared of messing up

hi. I went and looked at this github project the second I saw this ask & immediately went "OH I SEE" because oh my god the technical writing skills on display in that readme file are . let's call the overall effect "confusing". let's describe this situation like "the dev could follow the trail of breadcrumbs they left in there & they figured that pretty much was good enough." many such cases unfortunately but I THINK I have decoded it now.

here is what you're gonna do:

1. where it says "code" on the project page, click on that & yoink the zip file. you do not need to learn git today, so don't worry about "cloning" it. just download it.

(that green fucker on the right.)

2. extract it. put the extracted folder wherever. I have a folder in my "home" directory called "Programz" where I put oddball stuff like this because it makes it easy to find later.

3. MAKE / LOG INTO AN ANILIST ACCOUNT, THEN go to the "developer settings" page they link in the readme file without telling you what it is (which redirects you unhelpfully to the homepage if you're not logged in. jesus christ)

4. I cannot see the form for this because I didn't try it myself, but you want to "create a new anilist API client." find whatever button does that. When you do that, there should be a "redirect URI" field. put "akuse://index,https://anilist.co/api/v2/oauth/pin" in it.

5. in the folder you extracted, go to the "src" subfolder and then the "modules" subfolder. make a new file in there called "clientData.js"

6. the readme explains this part okay. open clientData.js and put this stuff in it.

7. open your package manager. you are going to search for 3 different things, and if any of them aren't installed, you're going to install them and any dependencies the package manager says you should also install. search for: npm, libcrypt, and rpmbuild.

8. now I am going to tell you to open a terminal window. inside the modules folder*, right-click and there should be a menu item that says "open terminal here". do that. then, in the terminal, type "npm run dist:linux rpm" and hit enter. (*I THINK? if this doesnt work try the top level folder maybe. it won't explode if you do it wrong just try stuff)

Theoretically, this should generate some kind of Something that you can run like you would run akuse on your Windows machine! I didn't get a chance to step through this process, so it's possible I am fucking something up, but I hope these instructions are at least clearer than whatever's going on in that readme file. it's worth a shot!

If you try this and it breaks down along the way somewhere, you are so totally welcome to report back here & tell me about it if you feel like it. maybe I can help! maybe I can't help but having an outlet to go "hey what the fuck" at will be nice for you anyway. either way this is awesome enrichment for me thank u

(& also I would like to thank minecraft modders for being the worst ever at documentation, instructions, and all related topics, because had I not been tried in those fires I would not be able to read shit like this at all.)

[davidca]

Sri Sai Charitra is a guidebook to help you start on an amazing spiritual journey of self-discovery with Sai Baba. Sai Baba lived in Shirdi, India in the late 18th and early 19th century. Countless miracles were experienced by his followers and devotees during this period. Even today, devotees all over the world continue to experience such miracles simply by mentally praying to Sai Baba.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

141 spying on you from your phone when you haven't played their game for a while( they miss you) 😂

God they're so nosey 😭

Wdym you're too busy with work/ college to play a game? Wdym your depression is so bad you're just mindlessly scrolling on TikTok, watching edits of them, instead of actually seeing them? Honey, come home, the kids miss you.

They see you lying in bed, hair messed up, pupils dilating at their renders doing the Baba trend. They see the compilations of their banter, their friendship, and their hands while reloading their guns.

They see the stress seep into your skin when your boss gives you endless tasks for the same pay, and it almost catches your eye when your phone screen flickers on in an attempt gain your attention, to no avail.

It's too bad you didn't notice the screen bending on your computer when you looked over your papers, a couple of fingers skeptically testing this new found ability. It's really too bad he had access to the files on your computer, including your address. It's really too bad you had been able to get your work done on time and didn't need to stay late.

Truly perplexing how the security cameras turned off.

"power surge" They'd say

And no one knows that the man walking into your building wasn't truly your fiancé, but they didn't need to.

He had been given a miracle, and he was heading their way.

[jobesbabe]

Summer Baby Part 3 / Dominik Szoboszlai

It’s July, 2024. A few of the Liverpool boys are looking for a getaway before and between the summer series and stumble upon your mom’s vacation home in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. There, they spend their time enjoying the sun and one in particular, enjoying the company. You find yourself falling for a charming Hungarian- Domi.

warnings- Fluff!

A/n - Hi! Please share and like if you enjoy!

PART THREE

It was a bit late now, The day being wasted away with you lying on the beach watching your favorite footballers bask in the sunlight shirtless. You had hid your face behind a book, hoping none of them would notice you stairing at the most attractive footballer you’d ever seen. Domi.  Lucky for you, the most of them were more focused on having a nice beach day than paying attention to little old you. Most of them. 

Dominik most definitely noticed you stairing at his muscular and tattooed arms and laughed. He pulled his sunglasses down to wink to you and you tilted your head to the side with a smile. 

After a few hours of pure laziness and relaxation, you sighed and began to make your way inside, to prepare dinner. 

You decided that Italian food would probably be best for the lot of them and started making your grandma’s famous sauce recipe. 

Tomatoes, Garlic, onions, you began pulling out of the fridge and dicing so you could add them to your already brewing pot of sauce.

You were playing a Jonas Brothers song and dancing around the kitchen when Caoimhin and Dominik came in, both shirtless and covered in sand. 

“mmm, smells good,” Caoimh said to you with a smile. 

“Thanks, I’m making Italian for dinner if that’s what you all like,” you replied to the irishman. 

“Whatever you make, I’m sure it will be good,” Domi said, smirking. 

You didn’t know exactly why, but his mood and actions toward you sent your stomach into a fluttering mess. 

You giggled a bit before asking, “How was the beach, Good I hope?” 

“Very,” Caoimhin said and Dominik hummed in agreement. 

“Do I have time to shower before dinner?” Dominik asked you. 

“Yep, I still have to make the pasta and finish off the sauce so you should have at least thirty to forty five minutes,” you told him. 

He nodded and they both went off to shower leaving you alone to cook. 

One by one, the rest of the boys came in muttering ‘hello’ or ‘how are we?’ before going to their respective rooms. 

Twenty minutes go by and you’re struggling with your pasta machine. Your dough isn’t going through it well and you have flour all over your face. 

After a few huffs and puffs, you decide to give yourself a five minute break. 

Scrolling on insta, you hear footsteps approaching the kitchen. 

“Hey,” Domi says to you, his heart wet and himself in a compression shirt and loose shorts. 

He looked good. Too good than humanly possible. 

“Hey,” you said lifting your head. 

Dominik started laughing, then quickly stopped, biting his lip into a smile. 

“what?” you asked him. 

He shook his head and walked over to you. 

His hands reached up slightly to your face and he brushed off the flour. 

You smiled slightly at the action before those oh-too-familiar knots appeared in your stomach.

“You okay baba? You look like you got into a fight with the flour,” he said to you, the baba part slipping off his tongue like he’d been calling you it for years. 

“more like the pasta machine. I think it’s broken,” You told him. 

“let me see,” he asked. 

You handed him the machine  and within minutes, it was working.

You laughed out loud. 

“Domi, You’re a miracle worker!” you exclaimed. 

He shrugged.

A few minutes later you were serving the food to the hungry lot of them. 

Again, they insisted you eat with them. 

You sat with them at the large round table, across from Dominik, with Caoimhin on your left and Bobby on your right. 

The first bites were priceless. All but Bobby let out audible groans of contentment and you laughed. 

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” Harvey asked. 

“It’s all my grandma’s recipe.” You told them proud. 

“It’s heavenly,” Curtis said, his scouse accent making the phrase sound kind of funny to you. 

they all nodded, except for Bobby, who was too focused on finishing his plate to make the effort. 

Within minutes, he was asking for another helping. You laughed. 

After finishing dinner, you cleaned up with slight help from Conor and Dominik. 

Before going into his room, Dominik came over to your ear. 

he whispered to you, “If you knock on my door in ten minutes, I’ll be ready for that walk we talked about.” 

You smiled and agreed. 

You knocked on his door what felt like an eternity later.

He opened it, Now wearing a Essentials hoodie and having fluffy beach hair. 

You, had changed into a blue and pink White Fox hoodie and braided your hair back out of your face. 

“ready?” He asked. 

“mhm!” You said, and the two of you walked out the back porch where nobody was currently looking. 

After a few moments, he spoke, his accent sending shivers up your spine as he did. 

“y/n, you look good.” He said.

“Thanks, you look good too Domi,” You said. 

The air between you was silent for a few moments, but in a comfortable way. 

Seconds later, Dominik was reaching for your hand and lacing his fingers in between yours. You met his eyes and you smiled at each other silently, continuing to walk. 

“Dominik, Can I ask you something?” you said. 

“Anything.” He said. 

“How did you know Liverpool was the team? Was it just obvious?” You asked. 

“Well, I really admired the club for the longest time. I have a Steven Gerrard quote tattooed on my arm, the dynamics of the team were just so different and family like.” He smiled remembering the day he made his decision. 

“A question for you now,” He said. 

“Shoot,” You told him. 

“Have you ever had a crush on someone who was staying at the house?” He asked you. 

You shook your head, “no, well-“

“well what?” He asked you. 

“Not before right now.” you told him, heart fluttering at your confession. 

“oh? Now you must tell, Who?” He asked smugly knowing who you were talking about.

“Nobody, I mean, he’s just this guy with fluffy hair and brown eyes. He’s perfect and has a Hungarian accent that drives me crazy.” You tell him smiling at him. 

He smirks and looks away. 

“I can tell you, miss y/n, he feels the same way about you.” Dominik says before dropping your hand and turning his body to face you, grabbing your face in his hands

He envelopes you in a kiss, starting slowly, but then becoming more intense and passionate, expressing the feelings you two had for each other after only a few days. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and yours fought for domination before eventually giving up. You melted into the kiss before the two of you pulled away from the kiss. 

he hummed against your face and grabbed your hand smiling. 

You headed back towards the house hand in hand and parted ways with a kiss. 

Lying on your bed staring at the ceiling you smiled and fell asleep content, hugging your pillow and remembering the kisses you had shared with Domi. 

a/n - Thats it for this part! lemme know if you wanna be tagged in pt 4!!

[gwen-parker2014]

under the mistletoe

reader: named Alana, ditzy (golden retriever gf), has a toxic mom

genre: angst, fluff, best friends to lovers <3

౨ৎ

You shifted uncomfortably in your armchair, playing with the hem of your skirt. The pleated plaid fabric was now worn, the edges fraying from overuse. Your mother had bought it for you last Christmas, and it was so gorgeous you wore it at least once a week in the winter.

You checked your watch, tapping your fingernails impatiently on the arm of the chair. Peter was late. You had no idea how long you could last alone with your mother.

As you nervously sipped your hot cocoa, the doorbell rang. You smiled, knowing exactly who was it was. Placing your mug on the coffee table, you dashed for the door so as not to let your guest freeze.

Your smile faded when you saw your younger brother and his girlfriend.

“Hey!" your brother's warm smile faltered after noticing your evident disappointment. "Don’t look too excited to see me, it’s not like I haven’t seen you in months. Peter’s not here yet?” He gave you a knowing smirk.

“I didn’t think you were him! I…I just thought you were Dad,” you lied through a tight-lipped smile. Clearly, he didn't believe you but decided, thankfully, not to tease you about it.

“This is my girlfriend, Taylor," the girl gave you an unnecessarily toothy grin, throwing you off with her excessive friendliness. "Move it or lose it, sister. Go daydream about Parker in your old room or something.” He grabbed her hand, pushing past you to greet your mother. Taylor gave you a sheepish smile, mouthing a "sorry" for your brother's behavior.

You were about to close the door when you heard an, “Am I late?”

You whipped around, already grinning like an idiot. Even just the sound of his voice did that to you.

Peter stood in front of you in his pine green parka and dorky spiderman hat, two huge bouquets in hand. You wrapped your arms around him, popping your feet off the floor in your excitement. It was a miracle he was still standing since you practically barreled into him with all your strength, but he caught you, shifting the flowers to rest behind your back.

"Did ya miss me?" Peter pouted playfully, his puppy eyes trained down at you with nothing but adoration.

"Mhmm," you nodded vigorously into his collar, simultaneously catching a whiff of his earthy cologne.

His eyes crinkled in affection at your energy. You felt so right in his arms, he never wanted to let go. He would do everything in his power to protect you for the rest of his life.

He stepped inside and handed you the flowers. Pink roses with baby's breath. He knew you better than the back of his palm.

Peter admired every little thing about you, like how even now, you reached up to fix a loose bobby pin in your messy bun. You always looked so pretty even when you weren't trying. His gaze softened when he looked down at your outfit.

“Are you wearing my sweater?” he asked coyly. Your eyes widened. You hadn’t even noticed you had it on. You had "borrowed it" a couple weeks ago without telling him. He had looked everywhere for it and now the girl of his dreams was wearing it.

“Wha-No. This thing?…Yes?” your face flushed a deep shade of maroon as you turned from him to place the flowers on the countertop. Peter smirked. He had made you flustered, and he was enjoying every moment of it.

“Keep it, it looks better on you. Maybe ask next time though,” he chuckled as you covered your face with both hands.

You led Peter to the couch, gingerly taking a seat beside your mother.

“Peter! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here, I don’t think Alana can stand me for much longer without you! You got yourself a girlfriend yet?” you groaned at your mother's incessant badgering. Poor Peter had barely stepped into your home, and she was already interrogating him.

“Mom, stop! Leave Peter alone. I’m sure a pretty girl will come along eventually and sweep him off his feet,” you rolled your eyes.

She already did, Peter wanted to say.

“Jeez, baba, don’t be such a Grinch. This is why you don’t have a boyfriend,” your mother mumbled.

You scoffed, trying not to let her throwaway comment ruin your day. “Please, Mom. How did this go from-”

“Lana, I need to talk to you…about our assignment?” Peter cut in. You took a deep breath and nodded, letting Peter drag you to your room.

“What do you actually want to talk about?” your eyes were wide with wonder.

Oh, God. Peter gulped, steeling himself. It was now or never. He couldn't hold it in any longer. He really hoped he didn't blow this, he cared about you more than anything in this world.

“You?” it came out like a question. He ran his fingers through his curls, a nervous old habit that was second nature to you as much as him. Now that he was in a room alone with you he was full on freaking out. Man, he should've planned this out better.

“Me? Why would we talk about me? Is everything okay, Pete?” you looked up at him, voice soft.

“Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. I just…didn’t want you to fight with your mom…again,” he looked down at his holey socks, disappointment creasing his features.

You sighed, taking a seat on your bed, motioning for Peter to join you. He sat down and you turned to take his hands in yours. You always liked holding them, they made you feel protected and cared for.

“I love that you care so much, you know?” your voice was barely above a whisper as you gazed into his beautiful brown eyes. He was almost convinced you could see into his soul with that earnest heart of yours.

“How could I not? I mean, I love you,” Peter blurted. Your eyes widened. He what? Peter didn’t realize his mistake till you retracted your hands, settling them on your lap.

“You love me?” you were shocked.

“Pfft…No. Unless you want me to?” he played with his fingers nervously, too scared to look at you anymore. He had messed things up enough already. “Please just...forget I said anything. This is embarrassing enough already.”

“Peter-” you began.

“Don’t feel bad, Lana. I know you're way out of my league, and it could never work out,” Peter rambled on.

“Peter!” you exclaimed.

“What?” he looked at you, noticing you were holding his hands again.

“I love you too,” Peter didn’t register your words at first.

You loved him?

“You do? You’re not just saying that as a joke? Or to make me feel better?” he asked, not quite believing what he was hearing. You nodded, smiling softly up at him.

“I do. A lot,” you brought your hands up to cup his face. Your face was burning up, but you were convinced that you were never more sure of something your entire life. All you wanted to do was kiss Peter. And you finally could. You started leaning in, your faces inching closer and closer. Your lips brushed his gently, testing the waters before you dove in.

You felt nothing but euphoria. You had been dreaming about this since you were twelve. You poured five years of pent up desire into deepening the kiss, not caring that his nose smashed against your cheek or that his mouth tasted like the stale hotdog he had probably devoured on the bus ride here. You thought his lips tasted just like home.

Your breathing came in heavy pants, but you weren't ready to pull away. You wrapped your arms around his neck, which made him that much crazier about you. Peter pulled you onto his lap, arms secure around your waist, holding on like his life depended on it.

You finally pulled away, staring at each other, still not convinced this was really happening. Your face felt hotter than the sun, Peter's no doubt mirroring the crimson blush spread all over it. The sleeve of your sweater had fallen and was now exposing your shoulder. Your lips were swollen, like they'd been sucked by a vacuum cleaner. Or by an idiot teenage boy who was head over heels for you.

Peter thought you had never looked more beautiful. You tried to fix your hair to no avail. Peter grinned, adjusting you on his lap. You laughed shyly as he began pecking your face, dotting each kiss with an, "I love you."

“Hey, look!” you pointed at the ceiling. Peter looked up, chuckling. Ironically there was a mistletoe, hanging right above you. Your dad must’ve put it there. You buried your face into Peter’s chest out of embarrassment.

“I want every Christmas to be just like this,” Peter whispered softly, tenderly kissing your temple. He could get used to this.

౨ৎ

[coldagain]

Routine

So. Ma asked about you again.

She's concerned, she says. But I can see through her. She is just one step removed from all of those people who had debated for hours why you could've tried to kill yourself. Artificial sympathy and the shaking heads. Kids these days— You'd be pleased to know that they didn't water down your ruthlessness to me. It was like you had always wanted: dramatic, shocking.

You once said that our little town is detached, as if somehow it broke off from the rest of the world. Nothing interesting happens here, and you hated it. People here are boring. We could make the same jokes day after day, and everybody would still laugh. Routines, routines, routines. You were driven half-mad with them. But now you were almost dead, and I wonder if this was your plan all along. Perhaps you thought that if you died, you'd become like those characters who had stories written about them. Those perfect girls you had always envied, who had things happening to them. And you said nothing ever happens here.

But you didn't die. And it was worse. It was like watching an ocean wave, the way the story spread from person to person. Overblown, exaggerated, each time it was retold. They came to our house three hours later. Don't worry. I had made sure not to react. No one suspected anything.

After all, we're not friends.

Ma had opened the door that evening, and two of them came in. I hold a particular dislike for the older one, so I had tried to leave. But something about them tonight kept me there, tied to the floor. They sat, commented on the weather. Like I said, routines. You could see the barely reigned impatience in the way they fidgeted, in the way they wiped off their foreheads. Tea and biscuits were placed on the table, and Baba came downstairs. Some more small talk, and then, one of them lowered his voice to a disturbing note. It sent chills down my blood— just the voice itself. "That house by the store? The daughter had attempted suicide three hours ago."

They detailed the decisive scars on your forearm, the blood that stained your bed, the way you were blue and cold by the time people got to you. Even your parents, grief-stricken and traumatised, were not released from their collective contempt. How could they have been so careless? Had you a proper upbringing, you wouldn't have grown so melodramatic. But then again, one of them had said in a conspirational air, maybe it had something to do with an affair? Kids these days—

You were saved by a miracle, they say.

I wish I could know how you feel about that. You've always been so enchanted with miracles and fairy tales. You told me that so many times, but like most of our conversations, I didn't know how to reply. The questions choke my throat now. Did you finally grow out of the extraordinary? Did you even want a miracle that day?

I'd never get the answers.

But you finally got your adventure. By tomorrow, you'll be thousands of miles away from me, away from this boring town. And now, I'm the one who's slowly bleeding out. Not because of you, mind it. No. We're not friends.

But because I could have saved you, and I chose not to.

- @nosebleedclub 's prompt for April 24: routine.

[adarkrainbow]

The Yaga journal: The Polish Baba Yaga

I won’t follow the actual order of the articles in the journal, I’ll rather went by those that strike more my fancy. And today’s article is “Portrait of a Polish Baba Yaga”, by Katia Vandenborre.

It might seem surprising to describe “a Polish Baba Yaga”, when the hag is one of the most iconic characters of Russian culture - and even though similar characters have been noted in Ukraine, in Bielorussia, in Slovakia and in Czech Republic, her presence in Poland is not obvious. For Polish folklorist, Baba Yaga belongs to the Russian tradition, hence why she doesn’t appear in “Slownik folkloru polskiego”, The Dictionary of Polish folklore, from 1695... And yet she is one of the main characters of one of the most popular Polish fairytale collections of the second half of the 19th century: Bajarz polski, Zbior basni, powiesci i gawed ludowych, by Antoni Jozef Glinski (The Polish storyteller. Collection of fairytales, short stories and folktales). When the book was released, in 1853, Poland had lost its independance for a few decades now, and finding itself under the domination of Russia, Prussia and Austria, it used folklore as a way to preserve their national culture. In this context, the presence of Baba Yaga in three of the four volumes of Glinski’s work leads to several questions... And thus the article wants to paint a portrait of the “Polish Baba Yaga” by studying the seven fairytales she appears in, to understand how different and similar she is to her Russian counterpart. 

Baba Yaga in the video game “Smite”

I) The two faces of Baba Yaga: angel and demon

Glinski depicts Baba Yaga under two opposite and yet fused aspect, benevolent and malevolent at the same time, a self-contradicting nature that makes it hard to simplify the character.

The first of these “faces” the reader meets in Glinski’s collection is Baba Yaga’s role as a precious auxiliary that helps the hero find back his beloved. It is “The Princess turned into a frog” (O krolewnie zakletej w zabe). The story begins with a prince finding a wife, but said wife has been cursed to turn into a frog. After a failed attempt at trying to break her curse, the princess flees away from her husband-to-be, now turned into a duck. After wandering for weeks searching for her, the hero discovers a house on chicken legs. He pronounces a rhyme that basically says “Little house, little house, moves your chicken islands, turn your back on the forest, and face me”. The house moves on its leg, and opens its door to the hero. He enters and find Baba Yaga, spinning a spindle while singing a little song. The hero tells her all of his misadventures, and trying to help she tells him to catch the duck that comes to her house every day. However the duck escapes the hero, and turns successively into a pigeon, a falcon, and a snake. Baba Yaga is angry at the prince, because now the duck will not come to her house ever again. She however gives him a ball of thread that will lead him to her sister, where he will try his chance again. The scene of the chicken-legged house is repeated, and the second Baba Yaga again tells the prince he needs to catch the duck visiting her house. This time, as the duck escapes, it turns into a turkey, a dog, a cat and finally an eel. It is only by visiting a third chicken-legged house, and meeting a third Baba Yaga (the older sister of the other two) that the hero will finally catch the duck, and break the spell of his beloved princess.

In the fairytale that follows “The princess turned into a frog”, Glinski again shows a Baba Yaga in a similar “helper” function. It is “The princess Virgin-Miracle, the prince Yunak, and the invisible mace”, where the Baba Yaga appears in the second part of the narrative to resolve the crisis. While without any sisters here, she gives precious advice that allows to free the titular princess from the hands of Koscej. It is actually the sun itself who tells the hero, the knight Yunak, to go seek Baba Yaga in order to deliver the princess Virgin-Miracle from the castle of the wizard Koscej. Yunak first fetches an invisible mace with the power to hit things on tis own, and then a horse that can lead him to Baba Yaga. The prince arrives in “the sleepy and virgin wood where Baba Yaga lives”. After admiring the enormous tallness of the oaks, pines and firs, he notices that the forest is entirely silent, “as if all the trees had fallen asleep, and no living creature was in sight”. They finally reach the chicken-legged house, and after pronouncing the same formula as in the previous tale, enter the building. Baba Yaga is surprised to see Yunak, wondering how he could come here when no other “living soul” ever managed to reach her house. Not answering her, Yunak rather asks for her hospitality - the Baba Yaga promptly gives him food, drinks and a bed to sleep on. It is only after two more days of hospitality that the hero agrees to tell the witch the reason he came here. Impressed by this “great and beautiful deed”, Baba Yaga tells him where he can find “the death of Koscej”, that he needs to obtain in order to vanquish the sorcerer: she tells him to go on an island in the middle of the ocean, to dig up a chest from under an oak, to get from it a hare, from inside the hare a duck, from inside the duck an egg - and inside is Koscej’s death. With this advise, Yunak kills the evil wizard, breaks all of his spells, and marries the princess. Another tale where Baba Yaga worked for a happy ending.

Even though these two tales do show Baba Yaga as doing poitive actions, she still has a negative aura to her. She is an old, grey-haired woman with an aspect as disquieting as the places she live in. She lives in a house that is initially closed to the hero, since it only opens up after a certain magical incantation - and it is located in a very dark, very old, very silent forest, a forest that evokes death. So even as a helper, Baba Yaga seems to be tied to death - and she seems to have a mysterious side to her as, when the heroes see her for the first time, the narration tends to mention that he finds her in the middle of “hatching plans inside her head” or “conceiving plots in her mind”. So the witch is constantly up to something, a something that is never revealed.

A third tale breaks what seemed to be some sort of generosity. In “The Princess Virgin-Miracle”, Baba Yaga acted out of admiration for the noble deeds of the hero ; in “The princess turned into a frog”, she purely helped without asking anything in exchange. But in “The prince with the mustache of gold, the princess with the hair of gold, the heating cap and the cooling flask”, she starts asking for things in exchange for her help, revealing her more ambiguous nature. In this tale, Baba Yaga agrees to help the titular “prince with a mustache of gold” only if he brings to her some “water of youth” that is said to run down the mountain where the hero’s quest is heading to. To recap briefly the story, a royal couple had two boys, young princes that tried to rescue an imprisoned princess (the titular princess with gold hair) at the top of a mountain, only to die trying to (though everybody merely believes them mysteriously gone). God took pity on the couple and gave them a third son, with supernatural power, here to remedy to the disappearance of his brothers. Growing rapidly into adulthood, the magical prince sets on his quest, and finally arrives in a dark forest, where he finds the chicken-legged house, in the middle of a field surrounded by blooming poppies. The closer he gets to the house, the sleepier the prince gets, so he has to destroy the poppies before being able to reach the house. After pronouncing yet again the same formula, he finds inside Baba Yaga, a decrepit and grey old thing covered in wrinkles and pimples. This awful demon is however surrounded by two young and pretty girls, all three sitting at a table. Upon seeing the prince, Baba Yaga asks what he is looking for, and after hearing his tale, she explains to them how and where her brothers died. The hero asks her how he can find the one who ravished the princess (who as it turns out is a living hurricane, a sentient malevolent wind), even though Baba Yaga warns him the wind might take him away too. However the prince is confident in his supernatural power, and so the Baba Yaga asks in exchange of her help for some of the water of youth located on the same mountain as the princess. She gives to the prince three gifts: a ball of thread to show him the way, a heating cap, and a cooling flash. These three objects will allow the young man to reach the mountain, and climb it without fearing the strong temperature changes. Once his quest is done, he returns to Baba Yaga and gives her some of the water of youth. She takes it, and immediately she becomes young and beautiful. Overjoyed, she gives as a reward her two daughters (the two maidens seen in the beginning) to the prince’s brothers for them to marry (the prince with the golden mustache marrying the princess with gold hair).

Now, it seems that Baba Yaga is a benevolent character here... But it is implied she had a role to play in the kidnapping of the princess, the one that caused all those misfortunes in the first place. Indeed, the palace where the princess is locked up by the malevolent wind is... standing on chicken legs. And the prince also has to sing a rhyme-incantation “Palace, palace, move on your chicken legs, turn your back to the void and face me” to enter it. Given the two building work identically, one can wonder if the violent hurricane that took away the princess isn’t just another shape of Baba Yaga... It brings to mind the fact that Baba Yaga was often associated in folklore with storm clouds. So in this tale, she would play both the villain AND the helper... 

Such an ambiguity is also found in “The prince turned into a crayfish”. In this tale, Baba Yaga doesn’t actually exist as a character, but her absence is noted when the protagonist enters her empty chicken-legged house. Instead of the old hag, the prince sees in the house a beautiful maiden. The narrative voice insists that this maiden cannot be Baba Yaga, since Baba Yaga is old and ugly. And indeed, the maiden is revealed to be the daughter of a royal couple, who has been kidnaped by “the master of all wizards”, that is to say “a viper-flyng spirit” (a zmij-latawiec). Nothing implies that this reptile-wizard has anything to do with Baba Yaga, but maybe some secret link can be seen - again, in folklore Baba Yaga has strong snake connotations and serpentine roots. On top of that, “latawiec” is the male form of “latawica”, and while latawica usually designates a flying spirit, it is also a term to designate a witch in Polish. This mysterious evil wizard, who not only kidnapped the princess, but also turned the titular prince into a crayfish, might very well be Baba Yaga under another shape... And yet, it is in Baba Yaga’s house that the hero finds the answers he needs to complete his quests, and the means to destroy the evil wizard. So again, from Baba Yaga, good and bad seem to come.

Baba Yaga’s villainy is however growing when we look at “The flying carpet, the invisible cap, the ring that gives gold and the hitting staff”. While not part of the action, Baba Yaga casts a shadow over the tale. The antagonist of the tale is the rival of a king, who several times tries to invade his kingdom, only to be defeated by an humble fisherman with a magical ring. After being beaten two times, the antagonist seeks Koscej to ask him to kidnap the princess. And the narration points out that the idea of seeking Koscej has been suggested to the antagonist... By Baba Yaga herself! 

Her antagonism is even clearer in the tale “The devil and the old woman”. This folktale is tied to an old peasant proverb: “When the devil can’t, it is the woman he sends.” The devil of this story will say this proverb at the end, admitting that sometimes women are much more talented than him to do evil. The story goes as such: the devil can’t stand seeing the happiness of a couple, and tries to break their relationship, to no avail. A “baba” comes by and sees the desperate devil - she agrees to help him, in exchange for new shoes. This woman is described as “dry, and wrinkled, and charred like a fire-poker”, and it is suddenly revealed that this woman is none other than “the famous Yaga” (or Jedza in Polish), “who had been called a witch, and who had been plunged in the pond several times without ever drowning”. Baba Yaga manages to create trouble between the lovers, and the devil pays her with new shoes.

However it is in another tale that Baba Yaga clearly appears as a malevolent being: The knight Niezginek, the sword that cuts on its own, and the gousli that play on their own”. A couple who has twelve sons advises them to go to Baba Yaga, to ask the hand of her twelve daughters in marriage. The parents tell them of “the famous witch Baba Yaga with a leg of bones, who moves in an oak-mortar, who uses an iron pestle, and who erases her tracks with a broom.” They also tell them of Baba Yaga’s twelve daughters, all beautiful and wealthy and ready to be married. The twelve brothers go to Baba Yaga’s house, but the horse of the twelfth son (the titular Niezginek) warns his mater of the witch, reminding him that “it is hard to reach her house, but it is even harder to leave it, because she devoured thousands like you”. Baba Yaga is described as a demon, a cruel old witch as old as the world, and even though she appears to be human, she actually eats human flesh. Baba Yaga welcomes the brothers, gives them wine, mead and plenty to eat, she prepares twelve beds in front of the ones of her aughters. At midnight, she gives the order to her gousli to play music, and tells her sword to cut the head of the boys. However Niezginek tricks them into cutting the head of the daughters instead. Discovering this in the morning, she screams, tear off hair from her head, and using her mortar and pestle hunts the brothers down. Thanks to magical helpers, Niezginek slows her down by making a river, than a lake, then a forest appear. Baba Yaga is forced to let them go and return home, but it is said that her blood-shot eyes still glow in the sky, leaving a red trail behind them. While the witch seems vanquished, the eleven brothers of Niezginek grow jealous of him, and force him into confronting the witch again. They inform the king of the existence of gousli playing on their own, and convince him to send Niezginek steal them. Thanks to his horse, who gives him a magical herb putting Baba Yaga to sleep, the hero returns with the gousli. The increasingly jealous brothers tell the king about the sword that cuts on its own, and Niezginek once again goes there - neutralizing the sword with holy water. The jealous brothers finally evoke the existence of the princess Virgin-Miracle, and the king asks Niezginek to bring her to him. The hero discovers that Virgin-Miracle is actually the youngest daughter of Baba Yaga - after losing her other twelve daughters, her gousli and her sword, she feared to be robbed of her last daughter. So she locked her in a boat of silver with a mast of gold, and sent it to wander across the sea, the key to its doors thrown into the depths of the ocean. And Baba Yaga guards the boat by swimming in her mortar, sending malevolent winds to push away any boat getting too close. (Another association with wind, which confirms the suggestion from “The prince with the gold mustache” that Baba Yaga might be the same evil hurricane that took away the princess). 

Baba Yaga in “Thea: The Awakening”

II) A double nationality: Russian witch, Polish witch

The ambiguity and mystery of Baba Yaga doesn’t simply rely in her morality, but also in her nationality. 

Despite her shape-shifting, the Baba Yaga from the tales of Glinski is extremely similar to the one of Russian folklore. Like her Russian counterpart, she keeps hoping from the role of a helper, to the role of a villain, to an ambiguous character. And the Polish Baba Yaga shares with the Russian one several traits: the appearance, the familial relationships, the house, the powers, the objects owned, the symbolisms... Baba Yaga lives alone, or with her daughters - sometimes she had sisters with the same appearance and same name. Very old, she has grey hair, is covered in wrinkles and pimples, and has a bony leg. She is a decrepit, dry, even “charred” person, except when the water of youth turns her into a beautiful maiden. She moves in a mortar of oak, with an iron pestle and a broom. She lives in a chicken-legged house in the depths of a dark and morbid wood. The hero must use a magical incantation to enter the house, and inside Baba Yaga is spinning some thread, singing, or thinking about various projects. Surprised by the hero, she questions him, and offers him hospitality, and afterward she either helps him or tries to devour him. She has numerous magical servants and helpers, and in exchange for her help she can ask something, be it new shoes or the water of youth. However when she hunts down the hero, she can only be stopped by other magical means. For the symbolism, the witch is tied with death, is linked to a violent wind that captures human, and also appears as some sort of flying spirit associated with snakes.

All these traits are found in or have equivalent in Russian fairytales. It seems thus very obvious that Baba Yaga was borrowed from the Russian fairytales to be placed into the Polish ones - which is very probable given the “Ivan Krylov” incident. Respected for a long time as a great collector of folk tales of Poland, Ivan Krylov caused a scandal when in one of his book about Polish folktales he merely rerote several tales of Aleksander Puskin, Vasilij Zukovskij and Piotr Ersov. This caused an outrage among Polish folklorists, and under this light, some of the stories talked about above seem to be tied to Russian folktales. The second part of “The Princess Virgin-Miracle” seems to be inspired by “Ivan Tsarevitch and the Grey wolf”, while the main plot of “Knight Niezginek” might have been taken from “The Small Hunchback-Horse”. The tale of “The Princess turned into a frog” seems to confirm this transfer from Russia to Poland, since this tale is very common and widespread in Russia. Its most famous version was collected by Aleksandr Afanassiev as “The Princess-Frog”. However, Glinski couldn’t have plagiarized Afanassiev’s collections of Russian folktales - simply because they were not published and still in the works when Glinski’s own collection of Polish folktales was released. Given how the tale of the princess-frog is very popular in the Slavic tradition, it is more probable that, instead of borriwing it from Russian folklore, Glinski might have rather ressurected a memory of it from the Bielorussian or Ukrainian folklores (which were very strong in the region Glinski came from). This would notably explain the different depictons of Baba Yaga in his tales.

Now... while there are attested roots of Russian literature, these roots only cover a quarter of Glinski’s collect. And even then, when we look in more details, other sources were clearly in the work. For example, “The Princess Virgin-Miracle” has ties to Ersov’ “The Small Hunchback Horse”, and yet this tale doesn’t have the Baba Yaga part the Polish one has - it seems to be mixed with a tale of the type “Baba Yaga and Small Piece”. What is unclear is if Glinski actually fused the two tales himself, or if the fusion had been done by the storyteller Glinski took his story from - probably a fusion born from a “local genealogy”. A similar “wedding of fairy motifs” is found in a Bielorrusian tale called “Ivan the idiot and the Small Hunchback Horse”, which seems to confirm that Glinski might have been more influenced by Bielorussia than Russia.

So... is Glinski’s Baba Yaga actually a character of the borderlands of Poland, rather than Poland itself? You see, Glinski came from the region of Nowogrodek (Navahrudak) who, while being part of the Republic of the Two Nations for a very long time, is now located in Bielorussia. Glinski claims that the tales of his book are coming from his childhood - so it is safe to assume that “The Polish storyteller” (Glinski’s book) is actually reflecting the fairy-traditions of the Nowogrodek region in the first half of the 19th century. Which means Baba Yaga could be part of a local folklore, mixing influences from Poland, Bielorussia, Ukraine, Lithuania, and Russia. Glinski himself, noticing this cultural mix, did not felt the need to make a difference between strictly Polish tales and “foreign” stories. For Glinski, this local folklore of the borderlands reflected the original Slavic unity that preceeded the divide of the various nations - it is a leftover of a distant, pagan past. Glinski was convinced that all the folktales of Poland, Lithuania and Russia where all once part of a same culture of the Slagic tribes, which then was split among different countries, and each “nationalized” until they couldn’t be recognized anymore. This idealized vision of a “primal Slavic culture” was notably an echo of the theories of Johann Gottfried von Herder, Zorian Dolega Chodakowksi and Kazimierz Brodzinski, when they insisted that intellectuels should re-create a national literature based exclusively on Slavic folktales. Glinski (who was a fan of Brodzinski) seemd to clearly have the goal to recreate a “Polish fairy literature” through the Slavic culture of the borderlands - and thus, his Baba Yaga is a manifestation of what is supposed to be the Slavic pre-Christian community. 

This idea was denfed by Wojcicki in his essay “On witches”. This man, who was named “the Polish Grimm” for being the first to ever publish a compilation of fairytales in Poland, deemed that the witches of Russia and Poland have numerous common points, most notably in their physical appearence. He noted that, in both countries, they were old women with wrinled and dry faces, with deep and red eyes, an abominable and repulsive creature”. He concluded in a common origin of those two figures. The “Slagic genelogy” theory can also be reinforced by the study of Ryszard Berwinski, in his “Study of enchantments, spells, superstitions and folk-belief”: he pointed out that Baba Yaga seems to be born from the degradation of a Slavic deity who was probably the wife of Perkunas and the mother of the world. Christianity apparently reduced her to a mere “wicked witch”. This theory, still very popular today, seems coherent from a linguistic point of vie, as the word “baba”, which denotes the feminity of the character, is present in ALL Slavic languages. “Yaga” is more ambiguous, but some trace it to the proto-Slavic. Glinski, in his tales, rather uses “Jedza”, the Polish variant of “Yaga”, though he uses the Russian form “Jaga” in one tale, “Knight Niezginek”. 

Despite this complicated and confusing genealogy, the heavy use of the Polish “Jedza” suggests that one of the main preoccupation here was the “Polization” of the figure. We could once again invoke the essay of Wojcicki who, despite theorizing a common Slavic source, pointed out the national differences that allowed the creation of a strictly Polish witch. For example, even though Baba Yaga’s role as a “witch” can be disputed, she clearly has parallels with the myth of the Polish witch. In Polish folklore, the witches are linked to the devil, and they gather some nights for a “sabbath” on the Bald Mountain (Lysa Gora). Even though there is a Bald Mountain among the mountains of the Holy-Cross (Gory Swietokrzyskie), the name was actually a general description for any high place outside of a city or a village. Already present in medieval literature, the character of the witch becomes more frequent in Polish texts starting in the 17th century, thanks to the numerous witch trials, which reached their peak in Poland between the 17th and 18th centuries.

In the “Komedia rybaltowska nowa”, the witch is called “baba”, even though the most common name of a witch is “czarownica”, or “wiedzma”. The witch has a lot of other names: lamia, latawica, poludnica, przepoludnica, nocnica, jedza, strzyga... And it is the last one that interested searchers such as Berwinski. The strige, the striga, the stryzga, with which witches were fused in Polish minds. This type of feminine vampire is not only tied to the Roman Lamia, but also to the “jedza” who was originally supposed to be a “female demon of the forest, appearing as a human and who dates back to the Middle-Ages ; she is the embodiment of the soul of a woman who died giving bith.” Due to an etymology tied to the verb of eating (jezenie), the jedza is also a flesh-eating, human-eating monster. The fusion of these pagan demons and the witch probably happened when the witch figure was brought from the West into the Polish culture, and while the witch took over the pre-Christian creatures, she still kept their names, even though they were emptied of their original meaning.

Glinski did use a few of the terms talked above to designate Baba Yaga - though he does so rarely. In “The devil and the old woman”, she is called “czarownica”, while in “The knight Niezginek” she is called “jedza”. But in all the other tales, Glinski doesn’t mention that Baba Yaga is a witch, he doesn’t even mention her occupation or position. So she is only called a witch when she plays a negative role in the story. It is very revealing of Glinski’s own Catholic culture - by associating the witch with evilness, he feeds into the demonization of Slavic traditions through Christianity. In fact, Glinski even mentions the punishments inflicted to witches - how they were thrown in the water to see if they were in a pact with the devil. However Glinski still tries to reach out for the old paganism. For example in “The devil and the old woman”, the “baba”, who is described as a “czarownica” is called Baba Yaga - however, in a story collected prior by Wojcicki, the character of the witch is simply called “baba”, without any mention of Baba Yaga. So Glinski seems to have tried to fuse the witch of the Catholic Polish folklore with Baba Yaga. Similarly, in “The Knight Niezginek”, the character called by the Russian name Baba Jaga, is also called “jedza” and “czarownica”, when in truth this Russian character shouldn’t have any link to the Polish witch. So, the author of the article here, thinks that Glinski actually tried to make the figure of Baba Yaga more “polish”, the same way he made other Russian fairytales “Polish” in nature.

The conclusion of the article is that the ambiguous Baba Yaga of Glinski’s tales is reflecting the contradictions of his project, and the mentality of his times. Glinski tried to make appear from Polish folktales the “pre-Christian, Slavic source” he had perceived in the multiculturalism of his native region, at the borderlands of the Russian Empire. So it makes sense to see this witch, supposed to be a cultural core of the Eastern Slavic, appear in Polish folktales, and it makes just as much sense to see her share common traits with her Russian counterpart. This way of resurrectng Polish culture through Slavic culture (and more precisely the Russian one) might be interpreted as slavophilia by Glinski, and a proof of him belonging to this wave of Polish men who, disappointed by the West and its values after the Spring of the People, turned towards Russia in hope of finding in it the salvation of Poland. In such a context, the presence of a Russian Baba Yaga in “The Polish Storyteller” is far from a trivia, and the huge success of Glinski’s tales in Poland even less trivial. It shows that readers recognized themselves in this “slavophile Polishness”, and it favored the integration of the character of Baba Yaga in Polish culture.

Baba Yaga in “Castlevania: Lords of Shadows”

[devotional-theme-park-shirdi]

A Visit to Saiteerth: A Devotional Journey

Saiteerth is a beautiful devotional theme park located in Shirdi, Maharashtra, India. It's a great place to learn more about the life and teachings of Sai Baba.

A Spiritual Experience

Sai Sansthan: The main attraction is the Sai Sansthan temple, where you can offer prayers and seek blessings from Sai Baba.

Miracle and Wonders: Many people believe in the miraculous powers of Sai Baba and share their experiences of healing and blessings.

Shirdi Hotel Room: There are many hotels and accommodations available in Shirdi to suit different budgets.

Places to Visit: Apart from Saiteerth, you can also visit other holy places like Dwarkamai, Chavadi, and the Museum.

Your Shirdi Pilgrimage

Shirdi Temple Visit: A visit to Shirdi is incomplete without a visit to the Sai Baba temple.

Samruddhi Mahamarg: This expressway provides a convenient way to reach Shirdi from Mumbai.

Shirdi Live Darshan Sai: If you can't visit Shirdi in person, you can watch the live darshan of Sai Baba online.

Saiteerth offers a unique blend of spirituality and entertainment. Whether you're a devout devotee or just curious about Sai Baba, it's a place worth visiting.

[crying-fantasies]

Rodimus wasn't ready to be a creator P7

Masterlist

Part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7: Happiness is limited | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

If someone were to ask Rodimus, back in the day when he just recently left behind the name of Hot Rod, how it felt to be a holder of the Matrix, he would say that it was like being crushed open by your own circuits while being forged again in order to give it a space that wasn't been asked first, it was demanded and his body only listened to the Matrix orders, so, it was a living nightmare at the moment and it really hurt, but Primus what he couldn't give to get the title again (without the carnage, body horror, brutal responsibility placed on his young self, the monstrous anxiety and an auto destructive war, pretty please).

However, he couldn't change what he had.

"Who you love the most?"

"Baba!"

No idea what or who Sunset was referring to, but Primus if it didn't make his spark go all wild for every little thing the little bot was doing in that little human attire you got for him in the last visit to a human settlement.

"Baba" funny thing, Sunset had something close to spit so maybe when he gets older he could eat, just as organics did, but for now he really liked to nimble in his digits or Rodimus', saying baba all the time because some human in the crew said the word, apparently it was spanish, and Sunset liked it, so he kept on saying it.

This moment, while being in the floor with one servo holding his smiling son and touching his still soft frame, was something that he couldn't trade for the world.

"Would you look at that"

Now when Rodimus heard some bots laughing about some pretty funny young bots thirsting over a war hero in Swerve's, he is the first to go and see what is happening, know a little bit more about the gossip and maybe laugh about these young bots with a cup of engex, tease them because they were part of his crew now, and he kind of had the right to do so as the co-capitan.

Paint him surprised, and slightly horrified, when among those young bots, most from Luna 1, he finds his son, the whole group giving what you once referred as "heart eyes" to the war hero that was singing in the bar.

And of fragging course it had to be Jazz.

Jazz and his daughter.

Rodimus was of open mind, really, he really is of open mind, he had you, his dear junxie in the allspark and his techno-organic son were his better example of open mind, Ratchet and Drift were another example, and whatever hot mess Brainstorm was planning to do with Perceptor, what's more! if Megatron and Minimus started dating by some miracle no one would hear a word of complain from him! He would only cringe in the corner.

He doesn't have anything against Jazz, he likes the bot, a bot that is happily married to his human companion and has three wonderful kids!

Maybe is the idea of Sunny growing up, developing feelings and... and physical attraction to others which is totally normal, he also got through it in his cadet days, he wasn't innocent when he finally tied the knock with you, his conjunx, and he knows everything about little escapades here and there with you when your relationship was still young.

His baby is growing after all, he must accept that, it's kind of difficult, Sunset was once just so little that you could carry him around in your tiny arms, you even dressed him in clothes from time to time (Rodimus still can't find that little beanie that Sunset loved while being a protoform), but life goes on.

...

"Sunny!"

Blacksun's whole body jumps on his seat, quickly looking in his direction, desperate and angry red optics with promises of a painful and slow death while he looks at him, his new friends and the object of his adoration in turns, he just wants him to shut the hell up.

"Sunny, my sparkling! What do you say about spending some time with your father?"

He growled, his baby really growled at him while showing his dentae, it's not the first time it happens, but it's the first in public.

Oh, right, Sunny doesn't like it when he talks in human terms with him, and saying "father" out loud shouldn't be a problem if it was only the crew that has know him since his first steps were present, but now they have the newbies of Luna 1d New Cybertron, young bots that his son wants to befriend since the moment they got in the ship, being quite frantic to call him "mentor" or "sire", the first time that he did so Rodimus's data pad falled of his servos by the shock, Sunny always called him "dad", "papa" when he was so little and you just thought him to talk, his first word (for Rodimus the times when he said "baba" doesn't count).

He really wants to be part of a social group, befriend someone from his age, almost not caring from which one, not since he couldn't be accepted by others back on earth, and that is showing in how he finally uses his T-cog to get to his alt-mode, big claws ready to jump at him, wings in full display and fire venting from his intake showing his fury.

That was Rodimus signal to transform and accelerate as far as he could, the corridor was too variant in size for Blacksun's wings to get into and his pedes were too slow to move his big body.

An hour and a glass of flavored energon juice later, the beast was finally placated while drinking from a straw, looking really pissed with Rodimus and his speech of how it was bad to look at some mechs like that.

"I don't want to hear about relationships when you had more than one adventure with several mechs, femmes and Decepticon warlords!"

"Wait a minute I didn't -"

"Uncle Drift-"

"Wait, we weren't-"

"Mister Cyclonus-"

"That's in the past and we were only friends! Primus..."

"Shì, sí, of course"

Why did his son had to be so infuriating, and why did he still hear and remember about his previous things that in reality never reached to something?

"So much modesty..."

"Hey, I didn't throw optics to any bot who already had a conjunx endura"

The silence and tired optics of his son makes him ex-vent, not believing a word he says while crossing his arms over his chassis.

"Okay, not since I meet your mother or I learned those bots had a conjunx"

Blacksun looks at him before finally accepting his answer as good enough, for now.

"I mean, I'm only looking, respectfully, and from distance, he is quite a sight for sore eyes, just like high commander Thunderclash-"

"STOP! Stop right there before I start to leak energon through my optics, I'm begging you!"

His baby was growing, Rodimus wished so hard to have you here by his side, telling him how everything was going to be alright like the very first time that he had the inner force to take Sunset on his servos without the creeping fear at the possibility of squashing him by accident, turns out, his fears were stupid, looking at the little bean search for his digits while sleeping in his palm, he can still hear your voice in his left audial, seated on his shoulder armor and telling him that, yes, he was doing an excellent job while Sunset started to coo at him.

His tiny baby, as you always called Sunset, was no longer one, and he finally understood, after years of looking at his son why cybertronians didn't had something similar to human childhood.

Rodimus believes, deep in his spark, that is to prevent any mentor, sire, carrier or parent of the suffering of see their gift growing up so fast that it makes one dizzy.

[prof-polaris]

Do you like your parents?

yeah!! i love my baba and ibaba!!!

baba calls me her little furfrou and she helps me with my homework and shes trying to teach me kalosian but my mouth cant make the sounds and she thinks its funny and she lets me play with the baby pancham hehe!!!

and ibaba calls me his little miracle and he lets me ride around on his mons and makes my favorite dinner and and he says im gonna save the dan one day!!! and he bakes really yummy berry tarts, he says hes gonna teach me soon!!!

[toomuchracket]

baba girl just had her first bath she wasnt a fan in the beginning but i made her a little playlist of the slower/acoustic 75 songs for car rides so i turned it on and she fucking loved it cant say i blame her theres nothing like a warm bath and good music. when i was getting the baba sized bathtub i found this soap thats lavender scented and a lotion that goes with it so i washed her in it and lathered her in the lotion. shes nursing now already got her swaddled up and she can barley keep her eyes open its looking good over here i might be able to eat dinner without a baby in my arms or on my boob (a miracle)

oh, bless her!! how was she afterwards? <3

[happysheik]

This is a side by side of my baba (father) and I. We were both in our 30s. It.has been 17 years since his passing. I haven't heard his voice, gave him a hug or got to tell him I love you. Each day, each year goes by and all I want to do is reach out to him. All I had to do was look in the mirror he was there the whole time. If I knew I would not see my dad tomorrow, I would have taken a million photos. Each moment spent with our loved ones is a tiny miracle. Spend as much time with them as you can. Because once the people you love leave your life. To be honest in your heart you never stop grieving over them. Mama sheik is 73 years old and she still grieves over her parents till this day. They say it you want to know what someone is dealing with, walk a mile in their shoes. Like my grandparents, like my father and my mother letter to letter have walked through rain, sleet and snow from the age of 17 all the way until 28 to get home, school and work 3 to 6 miles a day. Like them I struggled with work, education, life, even immigration when I lived abroad. I have such an appreciation and gratitude for them. I will end this by saying Baba, I love you, I miss you and thank you for everything you did for us. I apologize for the times I may not have been grateful. You are in my thoughts l, my dua's (prayers).

[saiswamikalyan]

Mr.Shevade’s Faith

Baba’s main preaching is Shraddha (faith) and Saburi (patience). There are many stories in the Satcharitra where the faith of the devotee bears fruits. In the last few times of my readings the unique faith of Mr.Shevade has been standing out for me. It is not a story oft quoted as an example of faith. It is present in Chapter 48 of the Satcharitra. In the story, Mr.Shevade and his friends discuss to check how much prepared they are for their exam. Mr.Shevade seems least prepared. Yet, he displays utmost confidence. Upon enquiry he says Baba has told him he will pass the course and he has utmost faith in Baba. Baba’s words, he says, are never untrue. His friends jeer at him and Baba. When the results come, he passes, to the surprise of these friends.

What I find unique in Mr.Shevade’s story is his telling faith in Baba. His faith is not in that he will pass but that Baba’s words are never untrue. Even if the face of discussions that show he is not well-versed in the subject he shows no doubts. Despite peer-pressure and jeering he is confident. There is no wavering of faith. It almost appears to me that the miracle here is the level of faith Mr.Shevade has.

In contrast I am reminded of Mr.Tendulkar’s story found in Chapter 29 of the Satcharitra. He is taking his medical course exams. He is very well prepared. The astrologers have predicted that he wouldn’t pass that year. But Baba assures him that he would pass. He appears for the written exams reluctantly. Since he is still dubious he doesn’t appear for the oral exams. Due to his excellent score in the written exams, the examiner asks him to appear for the oral exams and he passes it with good results as well. Baba’s words are never untrue.

My observation from the two stories is that Baba always has the best plan laid out for us. Faith and patience is in our hands. The peace of mind resulting from this faith and patience are what we are blessed with if we keep it. It reminds me of an imagination I once had. In early days Baba used to sleep on a wooden plank tied high up from the roof and would light four lamps at its corners. The wooden plank was held up by very fragile threads of rope. Yet the wooden plank hung strong. This fragility of the rope is like the maya of the world. We don’t know when it is going to let us down. But Baba is there for us lighting all corners of our life and path with hope and wisdom . He may be high up on his swing. Sometimes he comes close to us, sometimes far. It is but an illusion. We need to know that Baba is always there. We keep him on our hearts. Sometimes incidents show that Baba is present and blessing us in all events of our lives. Sometimes it appears that world is cruel and burdensome. Baba is not there. We are searching for him. Whether to have faith or be doubtful is our choice. It’s our choice between peace and restlessness. If like Mr.Shevade, despite the events unfolding in front of our eyes, however unprepared we are for the tests of maya, whether our friends and peers jeer at us and forsake us, if we keep the faith in Baba alive in our hearts, we will have peace of mind.  

Sai hi hai mere Ek. Sai ke Leela Anek

Om Sairam

[santmat]

The Opposite of "Not One Of Us" is "We Are All One" - Spiritual Awakening Radio Podcast - Listen and/or Download @: https://traffic.libsyn.com/SpiritualAwakeningRadio/We_Are_All_One.mp3

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ABOUT

Before the main segment, The Opposite of "Not One Of Us" is "We Are All One”, I begin the program by sharing spiritual readings covering various topics from several sources: The Hidden Words of Baha'u'llah; a Saying of Jesus from, The Book of the Gnosis of the Invisible God, An Unrecognized Dialogues Gospel Embedded in the Bruce Codex Placed at the Beginning of the First Book of IEOU; also, readings from: The Ghat Ramayan of Sant Tulsi Sahib; Sar Bachan Radhasoami Prose of Soami Ji Maharaj; 1008 Kabir Vani (Saakhis of Guru Kabir); Baba Ram Singh on meditation practice; Saint Isaac of Nineveh; and mystic poetry * of Sant Charandas. (* Bhajans, Hymns)

One of the most mysterious passages recorded in the New Testament is: "'Teacher', said John, 'we saw a man driving out demons in your Name and we told him to stop, because he was not one of us *.' "'Do not stop him,' Jesus said. 'No one who does a miracle in my Name can in the next moment say anything bad about me, for whoever is not against us is for us.'" (Mark 9: 38+39) One may wonder who this mystery person was and what unknown sect or faction of the Jesus Movement he belonged to, since the disciples had apparently never encountered him before. (* The Not-One-Of-Us Treatment.)

The main segment is titled: The Opposite of "Not One Of Us" is "We Are All One”, an essay documenting how Sant Mat historically has never been limited to only "one" living master (Sant Satguru) at a time but there have always been multiple lineages of masters alive in the world contemporary with one another. As Hazur Baba Sawan Singh once said: "It is not necessary that there should be only one * Master in the whole world or even in a single country. There have been different Masters in different countries at the same time, and even in the same country. Thus Guru Nanak and Kabir were contemporaries, and so also Dadu and Guru Arjan. But their teaching is the same at all times and in every country." (* The Path is One.)