#Rama’s battles

[compassionmattersmost]

Ramayana No. 17: The Journey of Life: Lessons from Rama’s Epic Story

Inspired by Chapter 1.3 of the DeBroy Translation of the Ramayana In the Ramayana, we follow Rama on an extraordinary journey filled with triumphs and tribulations. As we explore his life, we come to realize that it is not just a story of a prince, but a reflection of the very fabric of human existence. From his birth as a noble soul to his struggles, battles, and eventual return to Ayodhya,…

[jumjum-crafts]

I don't show off my sketchbook enough, cutie potatoe

[oldschoolfrp]

I saw Ash's video on the Guerilla Miniature Games channel about Necromolds: Monster Battles, a wargame for kids or other youthful folks, which lets players mold and build clay characters to fight on the tabletop. It looks like fun, but of course I'm reminded of playing Clay-O-Rama by Zeb Cook which appeared in Dragon 125, September 1987. Paul C Easton created a supplement, Claydonia Conquers the World! for Dragon 144, April 1989. Wizards released a reformatted PDF combining both complete rules in Dragon+ magazine in August 2017, which is still available on their site.

[womanlives]

a platonic kiss just meant to express overwhelming emotion ( hello Wyll(iam))

Wyll’s known since he first set foot into the Nine Hells that he’s living on borrowed time. Sometimes he thinks it’s a miracle he’s made it this far: down underneath Moonrise Towers, in the depths of an illithid colony, surrounded by friends-turned-family on all sides. Other times — a phantom ache from behind his bloodstone eye — he thinks it’s the opposite of a miracle, after all. But.

Here he is. One step away from the Absolute. With Rama, and Shadowheart, and Gale. Surrounded on all sides by strange, reanimated ghouls without brains that fall, then rise, then fall again. They’re led by a skeleton in heavy armor, wielding a two-handed sword. It reeks of necrotic magic, and it has them grid-locked. A Death Shepherd. Every time Rama smites down a ghoul, the Shepherd raises a bony hand, and it rises again. They’ve been fighting these undead for well over a minute. An eternity, in combat-time.

There. Gale sends a homing blast of force energy at a ghoul off to the left. It falls, and the Death Shepherd turns. An opening. Wyll surges forward, raising a palm. Magic, perverse and fiendish and delightful and sickening, burbles in his gut. He opens his mouth to speak it into being, when all of a sudden he realizes his mishap. Too far, too forward. Off to his right, a winged horror lets out a shriek, and lunges for his throat. Oh.

Is — this it? Wait. But he’s not ready. He’s not ready to go.

A gleam of metal, followed by a harsh cry. Rama. She interposes herself between him and the winged horror, slamming it off her shield. Or trying to. There’s too little time, not enough space. The blow meant for Wyll’s throat catches Rama in the chest instead. Wyll can’t see too much from this angle, but he hears the crunch of the blow against Rama’s armor. Armor. Not her shield. She sways, rights herself. Swings, then drops to one knee. The winged horror opens its mouth, vomits black blood. It takes one step forward and collapses. In front of them, the Death Shepherd turns. And Wyll panics.

Any regrets he’s ever had about taking Mizora’s deal disappear in this instant. For the second time in his life, Wyll surrenders himself completely to the power of the hells. Lets it course through him, turn his veins black, fill his blood with fire, grant his body a truly sinful sort of strength. He runs forward, dropping his rapier so he can wrap his dominant hand around Rama’s side, steadying her. His other hands lifts, palm-up, facing the Death Shepherd. His jaw unlocks. He speaks; it comes out like a thunderclap and smells of sulfur.

“Dolor.” Pain. Anguish. The eldritch blast coils around his arm like a soot-black serpent, then explodes from him with a vengeful fury. He sinks everything he has into it. It hits the Death Shepherd with such power that it goes straight through its armored chest, and then circles back around to take care of the rest. There’s a split second where the Death Shepherd stands there, with a pulsing black mass where its ribcage once was. It looks down. And the secondary explosion goes off like a lightning strike.

The Death Shepherd’s skeleton shatters to every corner of the flesh-wall colony. Around them, bodies fall, one after another. Ghoul, ghoul, zombie, winged horror, skeleton with a crossbow, ghoul. Rama. Wyll feels her weight sag into him, and though he tries his best to steady her, the fiendish constitution he possessed is slowly slipping away, burrowing back down. He doesn’t let her go, though. Instead he slows them as best he can, steadies them, so instead of falling on their faces, they drop to their knees. “Rama,” Wyll murmurs, turning to face her fully, lifting his fingers — both hot and yet cooling from the resonance of the blast from his skin — to her neck. Feeling her pulse. One beat. Two. Steady. “Rama.”

Foolish, brilliant, brazen, stubborn, astonishing woman. Wyll lets out a half-laugh, half-gasp of relief, and presses a worried kiss to her brow. It’s frightened and relieved and thankful and thrilled. His eye closes. He breathes her in. Thank the gods. And thank whatever lurks in their shadows, lapping up their powers, too.

Then he remembers himself and pulls back. Carefully, though. Doesn’t want to risk jostling her if he doesn’t have to. Wyll gives her a quick little smile — bashful, almost, except he isn’t in the slightest ashamed for how he feels, how he reacted — and then drops his gaze to her armor. His expression turns solemn. “There.” He points to the side of her breastplate. “The impact. That blow left quite the dent, even if those talons didn’t make it through.” He leans forward, studying Rama’s expression. “Are you all right? I’ve a potion in my bag. Here. Take it. I know my specialty isn’t restoration, but — well. Tell me how I can help.”

Please.

SEND ME KISSES feat. @wolfbluff

[best-type-moon-couple]

Round 1, Match 8

[stars-obsession-pit]

Deadman shuddered as he watched King Phantom’s wail tear through their enemies. He knew they were allies in this battle and he didn’t have to fear him, but it was still unsettling.

Reminded him far too much of his meeting with Rama when he acted against her.

Her scream hadn’t been nearly as directed as Phantom’s, but even so, the power of a god is never something to scoff at. He’d thought his soul was being torn apart. Maybe it was. She’d already revived him once after his first death, who’s to say she couldn’t have done it again?

…did Phantom know Deadman was the product of another god’s meddling, that Boston may never have become a ghost without her intervention? It had occurred before Phantom’s ascension, and the pair had never directly interacted face to face yet. It’s possible he never found out. Even if his power included access to all knowledge about ghosts, gods didn’t necessarily consider all angles fully, so he could still have missed it.

If Phantom found out now, would he care? Deadman knew he wasn’t a normal ghost. Would the king unmake him for being an infringement on his domain? Would he try to “fix” Deadman and just lead to him being under Phantom’s thumb? Or something else?

Perhaps it would be better to avoid interacting with him at all. He was doing fine, it’s not like he needs the king (though a part of his soul rebelled at that thought).

[proudhinduforever]

What is Virodha Bhakti?

There is something called 'Virodha Bhakti' in Hinduism. Many scholars agree with it. Shri madhwacharya explicitly mentions Virodha bhakti. It's a kind of bhakti where you hate God. An intense hatred towards God. It is a way of finding moksha from hate towards God.

Shri Madhvacharya outlines different types of relationships or attitudes (bhavas) toward God, including:

-Sakhya Bhava (friendship)

-Dasya Bhava (servitude)

-Vatsalya Bhava (parental affection)

-Madhurya Bhava (romantic love)

-Virodha Bhava (opposition or antagonism).

He explains that Virodha Bhava involves an oppositional attitude, where one is constantly engaged with God through emotions like anger, jealousy, or hatred. This intense focus, even if negative, ensures remembrance of the divine.

Examples in Scriptures:

-Shishupala (in the Mahabharata): Shishupala constantly thought of Shri Krishna, albeit with enmity and hatred. Eventually, this intense focus led to his liberation (moksha).

-Kamsa (Krishna's uncle): Kamsa lived in perpetual fear of Shri Krishna, but his obsessive focus on Shri Krishna indirectly became a form of devotion.

-Ravana’s death in battle at the hands of Shri Rama is seen as his liberation. His pride, hatred, and desire for revenge kept him obsessed with Shri Rama. His focus on Shri Rama, though oppositional, brought him into the divine fold.

I don't think normal human beings like us can do Virodha bhakti. Mostly, it was found in Rakshasas(demons). But still.. I wanted to point out that our Hinduism found a way of reaching moksha even in hatred. It's an amazing concept.

[baddiewiththebook]

Over the Years | e.m x reader [18+] | p. 11

-> The origin story of Eddie Munson, and how he fell in love with the worst person he possibly could - his best friend.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language, suggestive themes, smut [18+]

-> <-

Sep 1983

Tying your laces together, the wheels slip beneath your feet. If you aren’t talented enough to ride a scooter, you’re sure enough not to be able to rollerblade. Quickly, you attach yourself to Gareth, who sits beside you. He’s also lacing on a pair of rollerblades. Though, he doesn’t seem too worried.

Gareth snorts at you. You look cute. Frazzled. But, cute. Taking hold of your ankle, Gareth swings your leg over his own. He ties the other shoe for you.

“I’m fine,” you’re not sure you’re convincing Gareth, and you’re sure not convincing yourself.

Rollerskating. A sport for people with more balance than yourself. You avoided the Rink-A-Rama as much as you possibly could in the last couple of years since it opened. There’s no making a fool of yourself if you don’t go.

That is until today.

Jeff is growing bored of the same day after day plot of his life. It’s the last day of summer vacation, before school! Everyone is out in the world exploring, making memories and having more fun than he is. Most of the time, Jeff is taking care of his grandma. An elderly woman that has bunions the size of the country of France. The soap operas she watches throughout the day begin to blend together into one mash that has Jeff spinning like a top! And, doing her laundry? Boy, if he could skip seeing another pair of her underwear. Yuck!

The highlight of summer is when he is with the boys. And, you, of course. Corroded Coffin sounded good, and Eddie wants them to sound great. They play gigs regularly for a bar in town. As long as they keep their hands away from the alcohol, they’re welcome to shred some music on those drunken faces.

It gets them an estranged relationship with their conservative town of Hawkins. Most of the boys in the band stay home between practices and rehearsals, or the occasional D&D session held in someone’s basement. There isn’t much to do in town anyway. You could go to Benny’s for a burger, or you could walk down the block for some fresh air. Otherwise, you’re stuck to the same bland day over and over again. Waking up and going to sleep.

Breaking the cycle with the camping trip, suggested by Eddie Munson of all people, has been the highlight of the summer for Jeff. If you ask anyone in that group, they would also agree. The adventure has led to a fine friendship between Jeff and Robin, who are equally as mischievous - and equally as bored in this town. They are the ones to come up with the idea that all six of you guys should meet at the roller rink.

The Rink-A-Rama opened a couple years ago. Certain crowds tend to flock there. Either young couples with their children trying to burn off their energy, or the evening crowd when all of the burnouts and socialites came to play. It’s fortunate that tonight you haven’t run into anyone from school, aside from the group you came with.

The lighting inside turns a moody indigo, and a switch flickers on in the D.J. booth. Earlier, the booth is accompanied by an older guy. Round in the middle. Balding on just the top of his head. Now, sits someone much younger. Maybe his son? He’s got earrings and a horrible gotee. The music changes to something darker. Louder. Definitely not approved by the moms and dads of this town.

Jeff heads to the floor with his new friend, Robin, who has impeccable balance. Freak decided to sit this one out and to babysit a plate of nachos. It was hard enough to convince him to come out tonight. No one wanted to battle him into wrestling on a pair of skates.

You would be much happier sitting at the same table as Freak, but your shell isn’t that hard. It doesn’t take much convincing to slap on a pair of skates and to at least try to roll around the edge of the rink where there’s a balance beam for beginners.

Watching the skaters expertly twirl in a circle has you doubting yourself again. You’re about to be a laughing stock. What if you fall? The knot in your belly tightens.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” your grip tightens on Gareth’s arm.

It occurs to you how silly you might look with your leg over Gareth’s lap. Letting your foot hit the floor in front of you, you also detach from him.

When would you tell your friends that Gareth and you have been spending more time by yourselves lately? That when you tell Eddie you’re too busy to hang out when you’re usually free - it’s because Gareth has already made plans? Unbeknownst to you, tonight would have been the night when Gareth asks you officially to be his girlfriend. A solid sentiment that might take the edge off from him to finally tell your friends.

Still, his affections towards you tonight prove that he’s not ashamed of you, or afraid to show you off. That tonight could still be the night that your friends catch a glimpse of how happy you make each other. It’s not a casual hang - it’s a real relationship blossoming.

Gareth doesn’t have much experience with girls that like him back. The last time he had a crush, it was in middle school. Not only were his feelings unreciprocated, but her friend asked him out for her. Of course, the girl quickly ran up behind her friend to wave erratically and rapidly trying to get her to stop. It was a joke. A cruel game that stuck into Gareth’s mind that has always made him question if he’s even worthy of affection.

You notice how far into thought Gareth has gotten, and you give his skates a tap with your own. The wheels slap together. A metallic clink can be heard by your bare ear. You nudge him, and he lets out a soft bite of laughter along with a gentle smile.

“I’m going to go request a song,” he tells you over the blasting rock music, “wait here for me? I’ll teach you a thing or two.”

You nod, “okay.”

Gareth skates off like a natural. If only you could hear the repeated phrase ‘don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall,’ in his head. He cannot be that dorky in front of you.

In actuality, you’re quite jealous. The more your friends state around here (aside from Freak, who’s got a fist full of cheese and chips), the more you feel left out. You roll your skates under your feet, while you’re still seated. The potential is there. You just need to get the standing down. And, the skating. The combination of skating and standing. Oh, you’re hopeless!

Disco lights gleam across the hardwood floor. It’s been mocking you since you got here. That, and the many faces smiling as they skate. They won’t fall. They’ve got this thing covered. Learning to drive a car was easier than rolling around on four wheels. You haven’t even tried yet, and you’re already giving up.

The moment you turn your head down is the moment that Eddie tilts his head up over to you. A slick sweat begins to paste his curls to his forehead. The past four or five times he’s been around the rink have been a blast. He’s never done this before, but he feels like it comes to him like walking. You, however, appear upset and alone.

The last person you sat with has gone off to play with the D.J. Eddie curses and swears he shouldn’t have left you with Gareth. For a moment, he thought that you and he were getting along. The band practices have been evidence of some hope. You even laughed at a joke Gareth made last week. Things were looking up! Or, so he thought.

Eddie cut through the crowd of skaters to get to you. The sunken expression on your face destroys him. You have your skates on, so why haven’t you taken a turn around the rink?

“Hey,” Eddie slides into the bench. Show off. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here all by yourself?”

You roll your eyes at your friend playfully. This fake flirting began this year. Something you’ve never addressed, but you can say you don’t mind the banter. You sure hope Gareth doesn’t mind either. Eddie is your closest friend. He’s earned a fake flirt or two.

“I can’t skate,” you explain. “Are you having fun?”

“It’s so much fun!” Eddie beams. “Come on. You just haven’t had the right person show you.”

“I was just-,”

Eddie interjects, “you ‘can just’ later. Let your ol’ pal Eddie teach you a thing or two out on the ice.”

“It’s wood,” you begin to correct.

“Even better,” Eddie stands to take your hands. “Come on.”

Right then is where you could have told Eddie that you were waiting for Gareth. But, Eddie would have asked you why. You would have to explain too much.

You slap your hands into Eddies big ones, and he grants you a cheer. The man is stable enough to put your weight into. One foot under you at a time, you begin to rise shakily to your feet. Squeezing tight, your balance becomes uneven.

“You got it,” Eddie ignores the press of pain through his fingers when you hold on too tight. Instead, speaking to you in a soft tone that you might give a child, he waits until you’re semi-comfortable on your two feet.

To an outside eye, you’re a crooked stature. Figure slanted at the waist. Your knees just bent. The face of pure terror and of concentration. Your lips purse in a way that Eddie might finally admit is cute.

“I’m going to take you to the rink now, okay?” Eddie won’t move until you’re ready.

“Mhm,” your mouth is clenched tight. Just a slight nod of your head has your heart skipping a beat.

Through a series of backwards motions from Eddie, and a few looks across his shoulder, he does make the short ride to the rink. The hardwood is slicker here like a basketball court. Everyone is spinning in one giant loop. A loop that you’re going to mess up when your ass kisses the ground.

“This is a bad idea,” you spit.

Eddie shakes his head, “it’s too late for that, you’re already here.”

Despite a gasp and a short mousy squeak, Eddie guides your right hand as close as possible to the beginner bar. You squeeze your eyes shut. Let go of Eddie’s hand. And, slap it on the bar.

“That was easy, see?”

Eddie wriggles out of your iron grip, so he can skate beside you. Only, you still haven’t moved from that one spot. He could laugh at your predicament, although as soon as you’re free of those skates you might kill him. So, Eddie does the opposite and puts a hand at your back.

“No,” you warn. “No, no, no-,”

You move. The wheels spin and stop. You inch yourself forward on the bar, and pull. Huh! This isn’t so bad after all.

It’s all about patience. Eddie replays this saying in his head day after day. Good things come with patience. So, he waits. He waits and he watches you, a baby lamb, learn to walk for the very first time. In this case, you’re on a set of roller skates. Your knees still shake. The grin across his lips can’t be escaped. He’s so proud of you. His little lamb.

Eddie also can’t help, but buzz at the sensation of your hand holding onto his. It’s different when your children rolling in mud, and you’re trying to get each other to stop flinging dirt. That was er- a tingle. It’s fuller now. There’s no denying anymore what’s been already there the whole time.

Eddie Munson is in love with you.

This is when things become complicated in your friendship. Because if he tells you that he loves you straight away, you might run. No, you would for sure run.

So, Eddie waits.

“Look, I’m doing it!” You’ve hoisted yourself forward all on your own. The laughter that bubbles out of you fuels Eddie.

Love is more than a word to Eddie these days. It’s more than a feeling that rises to the surface when you’re around. Because truthfully you never leave. All Eddie thinks about is you. When you’re not around. What do you do? Who are you with? What are you wearing? Are you having fun?

It dawns on him how silly being in love really is. The agony that holds his shoulders down with a thousand pound weights when you tell him of another silly little boy playing games with your heart. Your heart, which he shall cherish as a crystal gem. The rarest and most delicate flower. That one day he might be able to hold on tight and to never let go.

That same heart that which he does not know yet belongs to another. The other stares over the rink watching Eddie guide you along the outside of the rink. A hot heat radiates inside of him that he’s yet to come to terms with as jealousy. The jealousy that burns the bridge that connects a firm founding friendship.

Gareth waits for you to come around to the beginning again where the rink opens. He no longer cares for the songs that are playing, but would rather just have you back in his arms again.

For a split second, Gareth calms his jealousy by taking a glance over at the two expert skaters they came with. Jeff and Robin are jokingly creating a new routine. That’s when he hears it. A yell. Boom! You’re flat across your stomach, while laying along the hardwood floor.

Gareth speeds onto the rink nearly toppling over a few of the other skaters. It just so happens that someone came around a corner too fast, and slammed into Eddie, who then slammed into you.

You’re alright, but your knee does feel a bit of a sting. The rink might just not be your speed after all.

“You alright?” Gareth hoists you up with Eddie. Soon, come Robin and Jeff begging to know what has happened. “Let’s get her off the rink.”

“I’m fine,” you reply with an achy grunt. Most of the impact is across your knees anyway. A bit of rest, and you’ll be as good as new.

You make it off the rink, and find yourself sat next to Freak. He sits hugging his second round of nachos, while completely indulging in Jeff’s friendly agreement to pay for food.

“You okay?” Freak grunts. The man is of few words.

“Yeah,” you assure with the initial pulsing fading away. They’ll be purple by the morning.

Gareth comes whizzing around you with a cup of ice to hold at your knee. That’s the only gesture that the cheapskate employee hovering about the food court would offer for free.

At the same moment you want to thank Gareth for looking out for you, a second player comes to bat. Eddie also has brought you ice.

“One for each knee,” your attempt to split the tension in the air. Indeed, a bit awkward for the boys.

Were you aware of the tension, or were you simply being friendly? A hand grazes the spine of your back. It’s Gareth, of course. Those soft eyes could make you melt like ice cream left out on a sunny day.

The thing about dating is that the person you’ve grown so close too has made you forget what either of you argued about daily. Those petty squabbles don’t seem so important now.

“The hell, man,” Eddie stumbles over his words. The green eyed monster is coming to buy himself a home inside of Eddie’s brain. “Are you? When did you?”

Evidence lays before him. Gentle touches. Far away gazes. Gareth laying his hands on you is the final wire that ignites Eddie’s brain. How could something like this have happened? How has he been so oblivious?

Questions arise like bile. None of which comes clean out of his lips. Eddie’s talking to himself now. Gareth can’t even get a word in to explain. The whole time Gareth thought that maybe Eddie could be happy. Because after all, didn’t Eddie want them to get along? And, you are. In a way.

You watch as Gareth chases down Eddie, who’s skating away at such speed. The pleasant day at the roller rink ends, as Eddie is ripping off his shoes without a single word to spare to Gareth.

Meanwhile, Robin nudges Jeff. The pair stand ideally by soaking in the soap opera before them. Neither have put a word in, but rather speak only so loudly that they can hear.

“That was awkward, right?” Robin whispers to his ear.

Jeff nods, “very.”

-> <-

While Eddie might be dubious of your relationship with Gareth now more than ever, neither of you let the moment at the roller rink spoil the budding relationship you have with each other.

Kissing the skin of your knuckles, Gareth has gotten cuddly in the past ten minutes with you. He finally has you alone, and to himself.

There’s no one at his home to interrupt the lovers.

Gareth’s home is quiet with sleep. You reject his offer to come inside because you can’t fathom waking his mother at an hour like this. Instead, you hop on the front hood of your car. Sitting next to each other like two peas in a pod.

“We’ve been on a few dates now,” Gareth starts slowly with a thumping deep in his chest.

You agree, “we have.”

The night air kisses your cheeks with a bite of cold, but suddenly the apples of your cheeks feel quite warm. Gareth’s body heat radiates against your left side. The long sleeved shirt you wore can’t save you from being too frosty. Gareth nudges closer to you.

“Do you- er- like spending time with me?”

“Yeah,” you blush.

There’s a pregnant pause, as Gareth tries to form the words of what next to say. He knows what he has to say, but he doesn’t quite know how to say it. The past month has been the most alive he’s felt in years. You’ve awoken a part of him that he didn’t know existed.

“I-,” he clears his throat. “I like spending time with you. And, er- we’ve been going out a while. I guess-,” Gareth takes a deep breath, before landing the words, “I was wondering if I could call you my girlfriend?”

You’re not too shy to kiss his lips. Something you’re quite used too now. The sweetness from your chapstick bounces back to your mouth, as you share this moment together.

“I’d like that a lot,” you bite back a yell of pure joy.

Gareth couldn’t keep the shit eating grin from his face, and he connects your lips again.

-> <-

[September - December 1983]

tags -> @leelei1980 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @jesuisbuginette @starrywhitenight @meetmeatyourworst @munsonburn3r @5tud10-54r4h @pvdulmol @loveryanax @am0iur @naatggeo

[blackknight-100]

It'll never stop being funny to me how Indra's status and power level changes throughout the different texts because initially, you have this absolute badass God-King who defeats a giant monster and gets together with his wife and holds court in heaven. Next the Ramayana rolls up and he is set as a benchmark for battle-skill: Meghnad, as the warrior who defeated him, is an absolute powerhouse who nearly kills both Rama and Lakshmana (and one of those two is a god). In fact, depending on the version, Rama and Lakshmana only survive by semi-divine intervention (Garuda and Hanumana). It is a story about how Lakshmana, an exiled third prince, kills the man who defeated the King of Gods, thereby proving the victory of good over evil et cetera... et cetera... You know the drill.

And then, you have the Mahabharata. Where Krishna, then a young boy, protects an entire settlement from Indra's rage. Which... you know what, fine, he too is a god.

But then, Arjuna defeats Indra, who is his father. Arjuna, who presumably upset the audience a few moments ago after he just burned a whole forest with everyone (including children) in it to supposedly satisfy Agni.

Then, Indra shows up to Karna's doorstep begging for his armour, and Karna who had previously angered the audience by calling Draupadi a harlot gets to demand things from the king of the gods.

See the pattern?

Also they have that absolute disaster of a ceremony and their city is called Indraprashtha.

Like come on, at this point you're just using Indra as the bonus +500 point in games to get your favourites in the audience's good books after they messed up.

[compassionmattersmost]

Ramayana No. 3: The Battle Within—Reflections on Dharma, Maya, and the Path to Enlightenment

A reflection on how different traditions approach the conflict of good and evil. As we journey deeper into the Ramayana, we begin to sense the epic struggle that lies at the heart of this story—the battle between Rama and Ravana, between dharma and adharma, righteousness and unrighteousness. Though I haven’t yet reached the point where this battle unfolds, my mind naturally turns to how such a…

[bhrm555]

The great battle between Rama and Ravana c 1780, Guler style, Pahari

[magic-coffee]

Books to Learn More About Hindu History

List and description under the cut >>

The India They Saw : Foreign Accounts from 5th Century BC -> 19th Century

Spanning over 4 volumes, this comprehensive collection brings together account of various foreign travelers, explorers and scholars. Their wonder at her rich philosophical efflorescence and material abundance.

Hindu Temples : What Happened To Them Vol 1+2, Sita Ram Goel

The first volume includes a list of 2,000 mosques that the author claims were built on Hindu temples, based primarily on the books of Muslim historians of the period or inscriptions found on mosques. The second volume excerpts from medieval histories and chronicles and from inscriptions concerning the destruction of Hindu, Jain and Buddhist temples. The authors claim that the material presented in the book as "the tip of an iceberg"

Heroic Hindu Resistance to Muslim Invaders (636 AD - 1206 AD), Sita Ram Goel

An analysis of Ram Gopal Misra's Indian resistance to early Muslim invaders, up to 1206 A.D.

Invaders and Infidels: From Sindh to Delhi: The 500-Year Journey of Islamic Invasions, Sandeep Balakrishna (Book 1 + 2)

Tells the story of the origins and trajectory of Islamic invasions into India. It begins with the first Muslim conquest and ends with Babur's invasion of Hindustan, spanning the period of the Delhi Sultanate which was in power for almost 320 years. This epochal story encompasses a vast sweep of events, which changed the history of India forever, and introduced it to an alien faith and a religious despotism such as the country had never experienced before. It comprises major and minor sagas of great heroism, untold savagery, stout resistance, brutal intrigues and epic tragedies.

The Hindus of Hindustan: A Civilizational Journey, Meenakshi Jain

Notwithstanding the views of a section of historians and literati, spiritual, religious, and cultural continuity in India goes back many millennia. Identification with, and adoration of, the land was expressed in the sixty-three verses long Prithvi Sukta of the Atharva Veda, described as the first “national song” in the world. Veneration of the land remained a recurrent theme in sacred literature.

Kautilya, in the Arthasastra, articulated the ideal of political unification, when he said that from the Himalayas to the seas, the land should have one ruler. That ideal was accompanied by a consciousness of cultural union.

Evidence of continuity of religious beliefs and motifs could be traced to the late Upper Palaeolithic (c. 9000-8000) site of Baghor I (Sidhi district, Madhya Pradesh), to the celebrated Indus Valley Civilization, and well thereafter.

Fight For Deities and Rebirth of Temples, Meenakshi Jain

This work examines the medieval response to temple destruction and image desecration. While temples were destroyed on a considerable scale, also noteworthy were the repeated endeavours to reconstruct them. In each instance of rebirth, the temple retained its original name, even though there was a visible downsizing in its scale and grandeur. The Keshava temple at Mathura, the Vishwanath temple at Kashi, the Somnath temple in Saurashtra, the Rama mandir at Ayodhya were among the shrines continually restored, well after Hindus had lost all semblance of political power. The Bindu Madhava, the most important Vishnu temple in Varanasi, was demolished in 1669 and a mosque constructed in its place. The temple now bearing the name Bindu Madhava is a modest structure in the shadow of the mosque, but continues the traditions associated with the site. Intriguingly, mosques built on temple sites often retained the sacred names —Bijamandal mosque, Lat masjid, Atala masjid, Gyanvapi mosque, and not to forget, masjid-i- janamsthan.

The Battle for Rama, Case of Temple at Ayodhya, Meenakshi Jain

From questioning the antiquity of Rama worship and the identity of ancient Ayodhya, certain historians have also challenged the widely held belief that Babri Masjid was built on the site of the Janmabhumi temple. Scholars have, however, traced the antiquity of the Rama Katha as far back as the sixth-fifth century BCE, when ancient ballads (Akhyanas) transmitted Rama's story orally. Valmiki’s Ramayana itself has been dated to the fourth-third century BCE. Over the centuries, Rama's story has been re-told in many vernaculars of the country. Rama is the exemplar of moral values for Hindu society and epitomizes its aspirations of Artha, kama, and above all, dharma. The proceedings of the Allahabad High Court have exposed the vulnerabilities of Left historians. They could proffer no evidence of continued Muslim presence at Babri Masjid, while the unwavering commitment of Hindu devotees to the site has been attested by several sources. Babri Masjid was not mentioned in the revenue records of the Nawabi and British periods, nor was any Waqf ever created for its upkeep. No Muslim filed an FIR or complained of dispossession or obstruction in his alleged use of the Masjid when the image of Sri Rama was placed under the central dome on 23rd December 1949. The Sunni Central Waqf Board entered litigation on 18th December 1961, just five days before the twelfth anniversary of the placement of the image in the Masjid, on which date any claim would have become time-barred. The Board did not file a suit for a possession; instead, it sought a declaration on the status of the property. Further, excavations of the ASI revealed uninterrupted occupation of the site since the 13th-century BCE. They also exposed remnants of the temple on which Babri Masjid was erected. The assertions of Left historians on Babri Masjid have all been found to be erroneous, yet there has been no public retraction. Indeed, they continue to peddle their discredited theories despite the mounting evidence against them.

Waiting for Shiva: Unearthing the Truth of Kashi’s Gyan Vapi, Vikram Sampath

Half Temple, Half Mosque. Few places in the world carry the heavy burden of history as effortlessly as Kashi, or Varanasi, has. The holy city embodies the very soul of our civilization and personifies the resilience that we have displayed over centuries in the face of numerous adversities and fatal attacks.

Waiting for Shiva documents these cataclysmic events in the temple’s history. The final death blow was dealt in 1669 by the Mughal despot Aurangzeb, who demolished the temple and erected few domes on the partially destroyed western wall to call it a mosque. The temple complex was desecrated and left strewn with ruins as a grim reminder of the humiliation and insult that Hindus had to face as a consequence of their holiest shrine being torn down to smithereens. The area that is now called the Gyan Vapi mosque and the surrounding land that lies adjacent to the new temple of Vishwanath, which came up towards the end of the 18th Century, has always been one of intense contestation.

Vasudeva Krishna and Mathura, Meenakshi Jain

This work examines the antiquity of image worship in India. Its main focus is the Bhagavata religion that evolved around Vasudeva Krishna of the Vrishni clan. At Mathura, several noteworthy archaeological finds dated to the early Common Era were recovered from the site of Katra Keshavadeva.

In the medieval period, Katra Keshavadeva was subjected to repeated devastation, beginning with that by Mahmud Ghaznavi in 1071 CE. However, within a century a temple dedicated to Vishnu was built at Katra Keshavadeva. Thereafter, the story of destruction followed by construction was repeated over and over again. In 1670, the Mughal emperor, Aurangzeb ordered its destruction. An Idgah was built at the site. Later developments at Katra Keshavadeva were recorded in the judicial records of colonial India. In 1815, Katra Keshavadeva was sold by auction to Raja Patnimal of Banaras.

Sati : Evangelicals Baptist Missionaries and the Changing Colonial Discourse, Meenakshi Jain

In it, as a meticulous professional historian, she quotes all the relevant sources, with descriptions of Sati from the ancient through the medieval to the modern period. She adds the full text of the relevant British and Republican laws and of Lord Wiliam Bentinck’s Minute on Sati (1829), that led to the prohibition on Sati.

This book makes the whole array of primary sources readily accessible, so from now on, it will be an indispensible reference for all debates on Sati.

Hindus in Hindu Rashtra, Anand Rangnathan

To those who claim we are now living in a totalitarian, fascist, Hindu Rashtra, one must ask: What kind of a Hindu Rashtra is this where a billion-strong Hindus have been, through our parliament, through our courts, our education system, and our constitution, reduced to not just second-class but, rather, eighth-class citizens? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where Ram Navami, Hanuman Jayanti, Durga pooja processions, and even Garba celebrations, are attacked and stoned with impunity? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where a sitting Prime minister says minorities have the first right to resources? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where Hindus are forced to be refugees in their own land, where one can settle 40,000 Rohingya Muslims but not 700,000 Kashmiri Hindus, the land’s original inhabitants; where the judiciary says it is too late to prosecute those who raped, murdered, and ethnically cleansed lacs of Hindus? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where Hindu temples are exclusively controlled by the State, where Hindus must beg for Waqf land to celebrate their festival while the government usurps hundreds of thousands of acres of temple land and is responsible for more than 100,000 temples losing lakhs of crores in rental income? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where the Right to Education Act discriminates only against Hindus and their schools, forcing tens of thousands of them to shut down? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where monsters like Aurangzeb and Tipu who perpetrated large-scale Hindu genocides are eulogised through State sponsored publications, naming of roads and cities, and organising of festivals? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where a law was about to be enacted through with only the Hindus would have been held guilty in a communal riot even if they were in a minority for example in Kashmir? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where court judgments like the Sabarimala and legislative enactments like the Hindu Code Bill purport to reform only Hindu religious practices but dare not touch practices of other religions, and if they do, the decisions are promptly reversed like in the Shah Bano case? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where The Places of Worship Act continues to deny the Hindus their legitimate right to correct historical injustices and reclaim thousands of demolished temples? What kind of Hindu Rashtra is this where the Waqf Act gives overarching powers to Muslims to declare a 1500-year-old Hindu temple to be on Islamic land when Islam is only 1300 years old? If this is how a Hindu is rewarded in a Hindu Rashtra, he’d much rather be in a Muslim Rashtra because then at least there’d be no pretence of equality - a Kafir will get what he deserves. In this searing commentary penned with clinical precision, the author shreds to smithereens once and for all the guilt-tripping, self-loathing fake narrative that Hindus have been duped with since Independence. There is no pretence, no political correctness, only unvarnished truth – that the Hindus are living under State-sanctioned Apartheid.

India that is Bharat, J Sai Deepak

India, That Is Bharat, the first book of a comprehensive trilogy, explores the influence of European 'colonial consciousness' (or 'coloniality'), in particular its religious and racial roots, on Bharat as the successor state to the Indic civilisation and the origins of the Indian Constitution. It lays the foundation for its sequels by covering the period between the Age of Discovery, marked by Christopher Columbus' expedition in 1492, and the reshaping of Bharat through a British-made constitution-the Government of India Act of 1919. This includes international developments leading to the founding of the League of Nations by Western powers that tangibly impacted this journey.

[victusinveritas]

From Rebecca Solnit:

"My God. I was out all day today. Bashar Al Assad, the Butcher of Syria, has fled, his infamous prison/death camp/torture center has been freed, and rebels have taken Syria as far as I can tell. What a week. Insurrectionary Georgia. Coup-repelling South Korea. Now this.

The Guardian reports: When Islamist militants swept into her home town of Aleppo little over a week ago, Rama Alhalabi sheltered indoors as fear engulfed her. Forces loyal to president Bashar al-Assad, who had sought to reassure residents that nothing was happening, suddenly deserted the city. But as the insurgency pushed south, rapidly seizing control of the city of Hama on the road to Damascus, Alhalabi’s fears about life under militia rule have slowly ebbed. Instead they have been replaced by fears that her friends in the army will be abandoned by their commanding officers as Assad’s regime loses its grip.

“People in Aleppo are feeling more comfortable now we’re further from the areas under the regime’s control,” said the 29-year-old, while still using a pseudonym in fear Assad could retake the city.

“At the same time, I have many friends serving in the army and I don’t want them to get hurt. People with power inside the regime will protect themselves, and they will leave the poor fighters who were forced to join the army to face their awful fate alone.

“Things changed insanely fast,” she added. “We can barely believe what’s happening.”

As militants spearheaded by the group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) massed outside the city of Homs and rebel forces said they had entered the vast southern suburbs of the capital, rapid change swept across Syria. The Syrian army declared it had “redeployed,” its forces in two restive provinces south of Damascus in the latest thinly-veiled message of retreat, days after they withdrew from Hama. In under a week, five provincial capitals across the country were suddenly no longer under Assad’s control.

“We can hear the bombing nearby, and we are praying, hoping – and waiting,” said Um Ahmad, an elderly native of Homs, sheltering with her husband at home as the fighting drew close enough to be audible.

Assad loyalists fled the city, while people who stayed only have a couple of hours’ electricity each day and what goods are left in the shops are unaffordable. Those remaining in Homs waited to see if this might be the end of Assad’s rule, while an insurgent commander told his regime’s forces inside the city that this was their “last chance to defect before it’s too late”.

Um Ahmad was consumed by a single thought, that she might finally be able to see her sons again after a decade of separation and exile. “Most people are frightened but they fear the regime’s revenge more than anything else,” she said, as Russian and Syrian airstrikes pummelled the countryside around Homs and Hama.

When a popular uprising swept cities across Syria in 2011 calling for Assad to go, it initially looked as if demonstrations could topple another regional autocrat. But the Syrian leader swiftly turned the state’s weapons on his own people to crush dissent. As the uprising slowly morphed into a civil war, Assad freed jihadist prisoners from his fearsome detention system to alter the forces rising up against him, before relying heavily on his allies in Russia and Iran to provide the military muscle he used to reclaim control.

The civil war killed over 300,000 people in 10 years of fighting, with some estimates putting the true toll at twice that number. Tens of thousands remain in detention, including 100,000 believed missing or forcibly disappeared in Assad’s prisons since 2011, and subject to what United Nations monitors have described as systematic torture. Over 12 million people have been displaced.

Assad kept control of Syria’s major cities for years, as battle lines from the country’s years-long proxy war hardened. HTS ruled over a mountainous pocket in the northwest, cut off from the outside world. The group appeared a dim threat to Assad until they suddenly launched an offensive that saw them take control of Aleppo within days.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2024/dec/07/syria-assad-damascus-hayat-tahrir-al-sham-insurgents

[krsnaradhika]

Everytime I see Hindus on Tumblr facing guilt, anxiety and shame and what not when it comes to the reconstruction of the Rama temple 500 years after it was razed by that ruthless Babur— I hear Shri Krishna say, in that one teaching of Shrimad Bhagavad Gita from Chapter 2, verse 3, where he says (to Arjuna) - "Ye napunsakta tumhe shobha nahi deti. Yuddh karna tumhara kartavya hai Pārtha, shashtra uthao!"

क्लैब्यं मा स्म गम: पार्थ नैतत् त्वयि उपपद्यते।

[This impotency doesn't behoove you. Fighting this battle is your duty, O son of Pritha.]

For all we know, the antsy driven Arjuna could have fled the battlefield and claimed that "justice is in our hearts and that Yamadeva would deliver it to us" just like people here are being "Krishna is in our hearts, Rama is in our hearts" and so on. But Krishna urged Arjuna to fight for the constant chain of wrong doings he and his family were subjected to, fight for the kingdom which was a fruit of his valour and hardwork, his brothers' too.

Do not succumb to unmanliness when it comes to protecting what is a heritage, your ancestors' very own faith. Do not let your coming generations' heads down for they will have nothing to hold on to, nothing to cherish, lest you be so merciful to the history of invaders. Babur is not your ancestor, Shri Rama is, and Ayodhya is his birthplace. Not Babur's property.

Remember, there's barely any future without a past.

[80ssuperstar]

Hey Guys I made this Story that's based on The Ancient Indian Tale of Prince Rama and Princess Sita and the Ten Headed Demon Ravanna but I made it different with the Characters like: Prince Mordecai and Princess Samantha, Ravanna, Hanuman, Bharata, Indrajit, Manthara, Surpanakha, Queen Kaikeyi (Prince Mordecai's Jealous Stepmother)

THE STORY OF MORDECAI AND SAMANTHA:

Once upon a time, in the magnificent kingdom of Ayodhya, there lived a noble prince named Mordecai, beloved by all for his wisdom, courage, and kindness. He was the heir to the throne, destined to rule alongside his beloved wife, Princess Samantha, a woman of unparalleled beauty, grace, and compassion. Their love was the envy of all who beheld it, and their kingdom flourished under their benevolent rule.

However, their happiness was not to last, for lurking in the shadows was the wicked ten-headed demon, Ravanna, whose heart burned with jealousy and malice. Ravanna coveted Princess Samantha for himself, and he plotted to separate her from Prince Mordecai and claim her as his own.

Mordecai: "My dear Samantha, our love is like the eternal flame, burning bright amidst the darkness. Fear not, for I shall always protect you, my beloved."

Samantha: "Oh Mordecai, my heart sings with joy at your words. Together, we shall overcome any obstacle that dares to challenge our love."

One fateful day, as Prince Mordecai and Princess Samantha were taking a leisurely stroll through the enchanted forest that surrounded their kingdom, they came across a wounded deer lying in agony. Princess Samantha's compassionate heart was moved with pity, and she beseeched Prince Mordecai to help the poor creature.

Samantha: "Mordecai, look! A wounded deer lies in distress. Please, we must help it."

Mordecai: "Fear not, my dear Samantha. I shall use my magic to create a protective circle around you. As long as you stay within its bounds, no harm shall befall you."

That night, as Princess Samantha rested within the safety of the magic circle, she heard a terrible cry echoing through the forest. Believing it to be her beloved Mordecai in grave danger, she rushed to his aid, unaware of the treacherous trap that awaited her.

Samantha: "Mordecai! I hear cries of distress! I must go to him at once!"

Mordecai: "No, Samantha! Stay within the circle! It is not safe!"

But it was too late. Ravanna, with his dark magic and deceitful wiles, had disguised himself as Prince Mordecai and lured Princess Samantha out of the protective circle. Seizing her in his powerful grasp, Ravanna vanished into the depths of the forest, leaving behind naught but despair and heartache.

Ravanna: "Foolish princess, to trust in the illusion of safety. Now you are mine, and no one shall stand in my way."

Prince Mordecai, upon discovering his beloved Samantha missing, was consumed with grief and fury. Determined to rescue her from the clutches of the vile Ravanna, he embarked on a perilous journey, aided by his loyal companions, including the mighty monkey warrior Hanuman, the valiant prince Bharata, and the wise sage Vishwamitra.

Hanuman: "Fear not, Prince Mordecai, for I shall lend you my strength and my cunning. Together, we shall vanquish the foul demon Ravanna and rescue Princess Samantha from his grasp."

Bharata: "My lord, I pledge my sword and my loyalty to your cause. Let us march forth and bring justice to the wicked."

Vishwamitra: "Prince Mordecai, the path ahead is fraught with danger, but with courage and determination, you shall prevail. Trust in your heart, and victory shall be yours."

And so, Prince Mordecai and his companions embarked on a perilous quest, braving treacherous jungles, raging rivers, and dark caverns in their relentless pursuit of Ravanna and his captive, Princess Samantha.

Along the way, they encountered many trials and tribulations, including battles with Ravanna's fearsome minions, such as his son Indrajit, the demoness Surpanakha, and the wicked maid Manthara, who sought to thwart their noble quest at every turn.

Indrajit: "You dare to oppose my father, Ravanna? Prepare to face the wrath of Indrajit, the mighty warrior prince!"

Surpanakha: "Ah, Prince Mordecai, how handsome you are! Why waste your time on that insignificant princess when you could have a powerful demoness like me at your side?"

Manthara: "Princess Samantha is a threat to my mistress's ambitions. I shall do everything in my power to ensure that she remains in Ravanna's clutches forever."

But through courage, perseverance, and the power of their unwavering love, Prince Mordecai and his companions overcame every obstacle that stood in their way, drawing ever closer to their ultimate goal of rescuing Princess Samantha from the clutches of Ravanna.

At long last, after a fierce and epic battle that shook the very foundations of the earth, Prince Mordecai confronted Ravanna in his fortress atop the towering mountain of Lanka, where Princess Samantha was held captive.

Mordecai: "Ravanna, your reign of terror ends here and now! Release Princess Samantha, or face the wrath of a righteous prince!"

Ravanna: "Foolish mortal, you dare to challenge me? I am Ravanna, the Lord of Lanka, the most powerful demon in all the realms! You are no match for my might!"

But Prince Mordecai, fueled by his love for Princess Samantha and the strength of his noble heart, fought with a courage and determination that knew no bounds. With the aid of his allies and the blessings of the gods themselves, he clashed with Ravanna in a battle that shook the heavens and the earth.

In the end, it was not the strength of arms or the power of magic that determined the outcome, but the purity of Prince Mordecai's love and the righteousness of his cause. With a final, mighty blow, he vanquished Ravanna and rescued Princess Samantha from the darkness that had ensnared her.

Mordecai: "Samantha, my beloved! Are you hurt? Fear not, for you are safe now, and I shall never let harm befall you again."

Samantha: "Mordecai, my hero! Oh, how I have longed for this moment! With you by my side, I fear nothing, for our love is stronger than any magic or malice in the world."

And so, Prince Mordecai and Princess Samantha returned triumphantly to their kingdom of Ayodhya, where they were greeted with jubilation and celebration by their grateful subjects. Their love had been tested and proven true, and together, they ruled wisely and justly for many years to come, a shining beacon of hope and inspiration to all who beheld them.

THE END!!

I Hope you guys liked it 😊🥰

For: @fxe4596 , @nicomxm23 , @mordorigs , @jgquintelslut , @pinkcandycatmakesart , @anifaz , @isrrael120 , @notadumbdog , @martingeekermmd , @eeveepalooza , @apollothedeity, @sidoresca, @siinhorhy, @insomniacz, @rhyliethecaterfly , @yeetafry, @at-weeb96, @kiwithekool11437, @kiko2032, @orchestralauthor, @untitled14360, @loudlyhappycupcake

[talonabraxas]

Surya Talon Abraxas

Lord Surya is the chief of the Navagraha, the nine Indian Classical planets and important elements of Hindu astrology. He is often depicted riding a chariot harnessed by seven horses which might represent the seven colors of the rainbow or the seven chakras in the human body. He is also the presiding deity of Sunday. Surya is regarded as the Supreme Deity by Saura sect and Smartas worship him as one of the five primary forms of God.

Surya or the sun, often identified with Aditya, Savitr and Pusan, is another important Vedic deity. He is compared to a bird that flies in the sky and is described as the jewel of the sky. He gives light, produces day and night, gives power and strength to the living beings, makes them active and destroys their laziness and disease.

Surya had three wives, namely, Sharanya (also called Saraniya, Saranyu, Sanjana or Sangya), Ragyi and Prabha. Saranyu was the mother of Vaivasvata Manu (the seventh, i.e., present Manu) and the twins Yama (the Lord of Death) and his sister Yami. She also bore him the twins known as the Ashvins, divine horsemen and physicians to the Devas. Saranyu, being unable to bear the extreme radiance of Surya, created a superficial entity from her shadow called Chhaya and instructed her to act as Surya’s wife in her absence. Chhaya mothered two sons Savarni Manu (the eighth, i.e., next Manu) and Shani (the planet Saturn), and two daughters, Tapti and Vishti. He has two more sons, Revanta or Raivata with Ragyi, and Prabhata with Prabha. Surya is the father of the famous tragic hero Karna, described in the Indian epic Mahabharata, by a human princess named Kunti.

Surya’s sons, Shani and Yama, are responsible for the judgment of human life. Shani provides the results of one’s deeds during one’s life through appropriate punishments and rewards while Yama grants the results of one’s deeds after death.

Karna from the Mahabharata is also believed to be a son of Lord Surya.

Different Names Of Lord Surya

Lord Surya is hailed by 108 names – Surya Ashtottara Shatnamavali. The commonest among them are Aditya, Adideva, Angaraka, Arka, Bhaga, Brahma, Dhanwantari, Dharmadhwaja, Dhatri, Dhumaketu, Indra, Jaya, Maitreya, Prabhakara, Ravi, Rudra, Savitri, Soma, Teja, Vaisravana, Vanhi, Varun and Vishnu.

Lord Surya in Hindu Scriptures

In the Ramayana, Surya is described as father of the King Sugriva, who helped Rama and Lakshmana in defeating the demon king Ravana. He also trains Hanuman. The Suryavanshi dynasty of kings, Rama being one of them, also claims descent from Surya.

In the Mahabharata, Princess Kunti receives instruction for a mantra from the sage Durvasa; by reciting which, she would be able to summon any god and bear a child by him. Incredulous of the power of this mantra, Kunti unwittingly tests it on Surya, but when Surya appears, she gets scared and requests him to go back. However, Surya has an obligation to fulfill the mantra before returning. Surya miraculously causes Kunti to bear the child immediately whilst retaining her virginity so that she, as an unmarried princess, need not face any embarrassment or be subjected to questions from society. Kunti feels compelled to abandon the child, Karna, who grows up to become one of the central characters in the great battle of Kurukshetra.

In astrology

In Vedic astrology Surya is considered a mild malefic on account of his hot, dry nature. Surya represents soul, will-power, fame, the eyes, general vitality, courage, kingship, father, highly placed persons and authority. He is exalted in the sign Mesha, is in mulatrikona in the sign Simha and is in debilitation in the sign Tula. Surya is lord of three nakshatras or lunar mansions: Krittika, Uttara Phalguni and Uttara Ashadha. Surya has the following associations: the colors – copper or red, the metals – gold or brass, the gemstone – ruby, the direction – east and the season of summer. The food grain associated with him is wheat.

Surya Mantra

Surya mantra in Vedic astrology is the ultimate mantra to please Surya Deva. It helps people get rid of all kinds of diseases and gain mental and physical strength along with happiness and well-being. Chanting Surya Mantra daily shall also help the people attain prosperity and abundance. Not only does it develop a sense of assurance in the people, but also, helps overcome self-doubts and other mental distress.

The Surya mantra is:

।। नमः सूर्याय शान्ताय सर्वरोग निवारिणे आयुररोग्य मैस्वैर्यं देहि देवः जग��्पते ।।

Namah Suryaya Shantaya Sarvaroga Nivaarine, Ayurarogya Maisvairyam Dehi Devah Jagatpate

Meaning- Surya Deva, ruler of the Universe, you are the remover of all diseases, the repository of peace. I bow to you, and please bless your devotees with long life, health, and wealth.