#dresses for Lord Krishna

[femsolid]

Fun fact! The god Vishnu is probably the most famous hindu god and, according to hindu texts, he would stalk women as they were bathing and then steal their clothes.

Only after the women begged him would he return their clothes and let them dress themselves and leave. Of course men made lots of art about this beautiful event.

It's funny how male gods act exactly like male humans isn't it? What lesson are hindu women supposed to take from this? Well the metropolitan museum has a perfectly good explanation: "Krishna, the mischievous Divine Cowherd, has stolen the clothes of the bathing gopis, who shiver with cold but also with delight in their devotion to their lord. This splendid allegory of spiritual love-" excuse me what? the splendid what? lol Krishna is Vishnu in case you're wondering, he's an avatar of Vishnu kind of like Jesus is the avatar of God etc. Anyway, the museum details: "it recounts his playful theft of the clothes of the female cowherds, the gopis, who had left their clothes on the Yamuna River bank while bathing. Krishna placed them high in the branches of a tree, in which he is seen perched, daring the gopis to venture from the water. Metaphorically, this story serves to convey the power of devotion, to stand vulnerable before one’s God, secure in the power of bhakti, the unquestioning devotion to one’s god." ah it's not a creepy story it's just like if you love god and you're a woman you need to show him your body and beg him for your clothes and stuff. Makes sense.

Still according to hinduism, humans were created by the god Brahma.

Brahma was a pervert "in love" with his own daughter, the goddess Śatarūpā. She tried to run from him so he grew several heads and arms to reach her no matter where she tried to hide. He grew four heads to look at her from every cardinal direction, she couldn't escape his gaze. He's a buddhist idol still represented with his 4 heads and arms for better stalking.

Fun facts all around... I love religions.

[ahamasmiyodhah]

Imma go Desi hindi w this one at some aspects otherwise Tumblr will block me.

Read a comment on IG which said, "Why can't we worship Karna? Both he and Krishna struggled and went from hardships. Why can't we worship Karna just because he's a Suta Putra and Krishna is Bhagawan?"

Sabse pehle to bha***o, Sutas were the ones who were born of a Brahmin Mother and a Kshatriya Father. That means Suta was NOT a Lower Caste. There is a HUGE ASS DIFFERENCE between Suta and Shudra. Don't make Karna a Shudra. He was a Kshatriya.

His foster Father Adiratha was Charioteer and dear friend of Dhritarashtra, and I have also read (I'm not sure if it is true) that Adiratha was ALREADY King of Anga, and later Karna became one.

And secondly, Karna ki asliyat is known by the people who have read epics. Mene puri nhi padhi par itna to knowledge hai. Krishna ko kyu puja jata hai yahi puche the na?

Why do our Mothers dressed up us like Kanha— be it a Boy or Girl— when we were babies and Toddlers?

Because every woman on this entire Earth wants a Child like Krishna.

Krishna always helped Arjuna— not in just materialistic things. If he wanted he could have got the Hastinapur's Throne in mere seconds. But he made Arjuna and Pandavas struggle. Why did he?

Because Lord take our tests. He breaks us to the EXTENT we lose Faith. Vo paristhiti hi aisi banate hai ki koi bhi andar tak toot jaye. But he focuses on who trusts Krishna.

Who doesn't want a Friend and Mentor like that?

He (and Dau) made Abhimanyu such a great warrior that so many Maharathis were defeated by a mere sixteen year old boy and Kauravas had to round up at him and k!ll him by deciet.

Who in this world wouldn't want a Teacher like that?

Those who said Pandavas won because God was their side- no idiots. Pandavas won because they were with TRUTH. They were with Dharma. With right.

And Krishna is the Eternal Truth aka Parama Satya.

So before you compare Karna to Krishna, know that Karna isn't even the dirt of Krishna's feet.

[divinum-pacis]

August 2023: Dhaka, Bangladesh Children dressed up as Radha and Lord Krishna during the Janmashtami festival as the community marks the birth of Lord Krishna Photograph: Mohammad Ponir Hossain/Reuters

[brian-in-finance]

Twitter

Everything You Need To Know About Standing Ground, the British Brand Making Time-Traveling Garments

Ahead of his London Fashion Week show, the designer offered a look inside his sculptural fashion label, built on Irish mysticism, fantasy classics, and an intuitive approach to craft

Ireland’s standing stones, or dolmens, are the oldest remaining neolithic monuments in the country. For Michael Stewart, the designer behind London-based label Standing Ground, they are portals through time: stoic witnesses to the eons. He recalls taking frequent trips to visit them as a child, enchanted by the centuries-old mysticism buried deep within. “Ireland is a superstitious country, which is a good thing, because the dolmens have been preserved and protected over time,” he muses. “They’re feared in a way, so people don’t dare touch them.”

It’s no secret that Stewart’s spiritual connection to these megalithic tombs informs his brand’s name and modus operandi. Speaking from his new studio at the Sarabande Foundation in East London, he explains that the dolmens possess a transcendent quality, which he projects onto his own statuesque garments: deceptively simple creations that borrow from the futurism of sci-fi and fantasy classics such as Lord of the Rings to imagine evening wear, custom garments, and body ornaments that feel rooted in neither past, present, nor future.

After graduating from the Royal College of Art in 2017, Stewart established Standing Ground in 2022, before attracting the attention of Lulu Kennedy’s Fashion East incubator program, and making his London Fashion Week debut as part of the Spring/Summer 2023 shows.

Remaining loyal to his source material of neolithic artifacts and figures—images of a dolmen and a Saint Brigid’s cross adorn his spare studio walls—he doesn’t have a mood board or sketches, and freely admits to having done no new research since his master’s degree. Instead, Stewart takes an intuitive, and manual, approach to draping, sculpting, and craft, developing his own lines and patterns by hand to produce alien silhouettes that flow from and protect the body like topographic armor.

Stewart is currently working on his third collection for Spring/Summer 2024, which expands on the dialogue between distant pasts and otherworldly futures. “It’s different to what I would’ve presented last February, which was very beautiful, but not as menacing,” he confesses. “I wanted to take some time to figure out what I was doing, and not pigeonhole myself.”

This collection dials back the clock to pre-human times, focusing on primordial, skeletal, and fossilized forms to create uncanny garments that explore the relationship between objects and their surrounding environment. Imagining a world where ancient objects grow and shapeshift across each collection, the designs suggest a speculative place where humankind and nature are mirrors for each other—or, as Stewart puts it: “seeing the body as a landscape and the landscape as a body.”

Makeup by Machiko Yano / Hair by Moe Mukai / Casting by AAMØ Casting / Model is Nyaueth Riam / Fashion Assistance by Florence Thompson / Makeup Assistance by Krishna Branch-Mackowiak

Cultured

Brian’s Note: Cultured magazine’s story was published last year on 15 September. It mentions “Stewart is currently working on his third collection for Spring/Summer 2024.” Some of the dresses included in that collection are the dress Caitríona wore to the IFTAs and the ones below.

Instagram

Remember… Ireland’s standing stones, or dolmens, are the oldest remaining neolithic monuments in the country. ☘️

[shut-up-rabert]

Rant timeeee

Sometimes I feel like “open minded hindus” need to form a society of our own so to make sure that neither extreme left nor extreme right hijacks the religious movement and give people a wrong Idea of Hinduism.

The way local “Hindu” orgs push for more orthodoxy really scares me. Today I heard a debate on how only salwar kameez and traditional dresses should be allowed in the temple. What is a religious person like me who doesn’t wear trad clothing supposed to do? Not pray anymore?! Not go to temples despite being a god loving Hindu?

What about Vidur’s wife who ran to see Lord Shree Krishna and forgot to put clothes on out of excitement and had to be reminded by him, who was moved by her devotion? What about Mata Bhadrakali who dons skulls, limbs and blood of demons as garments? Are they not respectable women for you?

What the fuck do you mean when you speak of muslim women the way you do? You repay those who harm Hindu Women by doing the same to innocent muslim women? What the fuck do you think women are? What happened to Hari hi Narayani? What happened to us being your equals according to the sacred texts?

What do you mean when you say Lgbtq should be punished? You seem to think you know hinduism more than doctor bhagwat, the RSS chief who unconditionally accepts the validity of Queer existence? More than lord mercury (Budhha, not Budhhā) who loved his partner even tho he turned out to be a different gender than believed? More than lord Shree Krishna who let Shikhandi have his preffered gender? More than Shree Rama who was moved to tears by his Eunech devotees? More than the Narayan who created us all fully knowing what we were going to be?

What should the Queer people who revert to Hindu because of its acceptance do? Revert again? Would your convert hungry self want that?

Do these people not realise how much they are harming Sanatan by this? Not realise that our openness and tolerance to different practices is what makes us, us?

This is not how you preserve Sanatan. The clothes and traditions are a considerable part, but our wisdom and awareness are the major ones.

Protect it from any threat and enemies who want it gone, but don’t go about making enemies from your own people who practice in a different way or aren’t what you want them to be.

If you want to create awareness about Hinduism, learn to be calm and wise and the kind of person a Hindu is supposed to be. Read the sacred texts if you will. Valour plays a big part, but Knowledge and acceptance plays aswell.

*closes powerpoint*

And this is why learned Hindus (and Sanatanis in general) need to speak up more. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Your money will be refunded shortly. :)

[detroitlib]

From our stacks: "Krishna with the Garudas, the ritualistic human birds of the Javanese. Birds occupy an important place in Hindu mythology and are credited with great wisdom. in the Ramayana they figure as the Garudas, Lords of the Air, who come to the aid of Rama when Ravana the demon king abducts his bride Sita. In Java as the Ritualistic Fowl they are regarded with reverential awe, and they appear in one of the most striking scenes in the Wajang Wong, where Krishna holds mystical communion with them, addressing them much as S. Francis of Assisi is reputed to have addressed the birds. Special care is devoted to the construction of their costumes, which are adorned with feathers of the barnyard fowl imposed in life-like fashion on vestments so exquisitely woven and dyed as to be indistinguishable from real feathers of the birds. One dress alone took the plumage of four hundred hens." From Manners and Customs of Mankind. An Entirely New Pictorial Work of Great Educational Value Describing the Most Fascinating Side of Human Life. Edited by J. A. Hammerton. Over Fifteen Hundred Photographic Illustrations from All over the World - and twenty-Seven Plates in Color. Volume One. London: The Amalgamated Press, Ltd., n.d. (c193-?)

[golden-earcuffs]

Pavitr Prabhakar Headcanons Part 2 (Festival Special)

I'm back with headcanons, this time focusing on our precious boy during our festivals!

He's heart broken when girls start avoiding him during Rakshabandhan (the Indian festival where girls tie Rakhi on their brother's wrist. Usually this happens in family but a lot of boys-girls who consider each other brother-sister do this as well) because he's always wanted a sister. (Well sorry Pavitr but I won't want you as a brother).

Has played Hanuman in Ram-Leela (the stage play of Ramayan, a major Hindu Epic) in Dusshehra (we celebrate the victory of Good over Evil). Wanted to be Shri Ram but was told that he's more of a Krishna than Ram.

BECOMES GOVINDA DURING KRISHNA JANMASHTAMI (the birth of Shri Krishna)!!! Ofc he does, he loves breaking the pot of maakhan (butter).

Ganesh Chaturthi (the birth of Lord Ganesh) is his favourite festival, dresses up the best during this, silk blue kurta with sleeves rolled up and plain white pajamas complete with mojri (a type of shoes).

Has cried once during Visarjan (immersion of idols of Bhagwan Ganesh after the end of festival) while screaming "agle baras tu jaldi aa!!" ("next year, come soon, God!")

Goes to his Muslim friends' house during Eid because sevai is delicious.

LOVES DIWALI. Would never forget to bring lotuses for Maa Lakshmi during the Puja. (and then jokingly say "Ma I brought you your favourite thing now you give me mine" and avsolutely refuses to say what he wants because "Ma already knows")

Lights up the entire house with Diyas only during Diwali and makes it look more serene than lights.

Cannot talk properly during Holi (festival of colors) because his mouth is always stuffed with gujia, malpua or Dahi Bara. Also his clothes in Holi are as colorful as his face.

Visits Gurudwara (the Sikh place of Worship) on the birth date of the Gurus because again the lungar is soo good.

Lol I typed this so fast and as soon as ideas came into my mind. More will come.

[reasoningdaily]

5 Black Gods Whitewashed in Recent History

The Brahma Samhita is a Sanskrit Pancaratra text composed of verses of prayer spoken by Brahma glorifying the supreme Lord Krishna or Govinda at the beginning of creation.

The lyrics, chapter 5 verse 38 reads: “I worship Govinda, the primeval Lord, who plays on His transcendental flute. His eyes are like lotus flowers, He is decorated with peacock plumes, and His bodily color resembles the color of a fresh black cloud, although His bodily features are more beautiful than millions of Cupids.”

Chapter 6, verses 1-2 reads: “The Lord was dressed in yellow garments and had a blackish complexion.”

The Sanskrit word “Krishna” has the literal meaning “black,”  “dark” or  “dark-blue.” Krishna is also called “Śyāma,” the blackish one, or the beautiful dark boy with a blackish color.

[krishnaart]

☀ SHRI KRISHNA KESHAVA ☀

"My Lord, I offer my respectful obeisances unto You, who are dressed in yellow garments, whose bodily hue resembles the marakata gem, and who have full control over the goddess of fortune. O my Lord Keśava, I offer my respectful obeisances unto You."~Srimad-Bhagavatam 8.16.35

[sambhavami]

The Lost Flute - Part 11 (The Blazing Fire)

Rukmini rushed down a side path parallel to the main street, Manmatha following close behind her. In her hurry, she had barely worn any jewellery. She pushed through the crowd gathered along the main road to see the angry sage. Krishna was already there, standing quietly as the sage cursed up a storm of insults. Krishna's face was inscrutable but his eyes lit up the moment he spotted Rukmini. Beckoning her close, he whispered to her, "He seeks your hospitality, Vaidarbhi. He will not settle for anything less." Rukmini stole a glance at the sage before lowering her eyes as was customary. His eyes were bloodshot, his face almost hidden by his matted mane. He smelled like the accumulation of dirt and slime over a decade and was dressed in tattered tiger skin.

Rukmini had grown up listening to the stories about Durvasa's temper and his affinity for cursing anyone and everyone. She was terrified of the stories alone, and above all, she knew her husband was not exactly fond of him. They were both devotees of Lord Shiva and hence tended to run into each other at regular intervals, at conventions and festivals. Rukmini had never seen Krishna return happy from any of these meetings. "Working on your makeups, were you?" The sage taunted, breaking Rukmini's chain of thoughts. She hesitated, not knowing how to even respond to such a comment. Krishna cleared his throat, "We were unprepared, Sir. This won't happen again." Rukmini looked up at Krishna. His face was still neutral, but his jaw had hardened and his knuckles were white as a sheet.

"Too late for that, is it not, Vasudeva? I see that your wife dares to stand in her fancy slippers while my feet burn on these marble tiles you have installed here! Is this how your women receive your guest in your new kingdom?" Rukmini's eyes shot towards Krishna's feet. He had already removed his boots, standing barefoot. Rukmini quickly kicked off her sandals, nervously shifting from one foot to another as the hot tiles burned her soft feet. Durvasa continued, "What? Is she too good to answer when spoken to?"

Rukmini's eyes burned with humiliation. How dare he talk down to her, in front of all their subjects no less! Still, she controlled herself, mumbling a brief apology. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Manmatha too was shaking, his hand steady on the hilt of his sword. However, Krishna simply smiled, "Wouldn't you like to visit our humble abode? What would you like for lunch?" He said, as he slowly whisked the sage away from her. Rukmini felt Manmatha's hot, shallow breath on her shoulder. "You just say the word, your grace," He whispered, "I'll take his head off before he can even blink!" Rukmini gulped and slowly shook her head, "Do not sin on my account, just let it go."

---

In the afternoon, after lunch, Durvasa summoned Krishna and Rukmini to the guest quarters. Rukmini could've sobbed when Manmatha came to fetch her.

He had already made her and her co-wives cook the same meal thrice, each time rejecting it citing some minor issue. "Is he a saint or our evil mother-in-law?" Satyabhama had quipped while mincing the vegetables for the third time. "Maybe he heard how exceedingly nice our actual mothers-in-law are, and came here to give us the other experience!" Rukmini had laughed ruefully.

Rukmini sighed as she looked at Krishna. He was pressing the sage's feet with the same neutral expression adorning his face. She wondered if his fever had subsided yet, but she was too afraid to ask, lest the sage start firing off again. Only a few hours ago Durvasa had made him clean the entire guest quarters by himself. She wondered why did the sage insist on such bizarre, seemingly useless shows of faith. It must add up to something, she tried to convince herself.

Durvasa, meanwhile had started speaking to them, "So, the lunch was okay, but I had expected better from your wives, Vasudeva. Anyway, would you two not take me sightseeing?"

"Of course, Sir." Krishna smiled briefly, "I'll order a chariot to be drawn up. We can start whenever you wish."

Rukmini was surprised to see Durvasa smile through his peppery beard. "Why waste good daylight? Let's start now!" He exclaimed as he jumped down. Rukmini breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him leave. Happily, she called up Daruka, Krishna's charioteer, to prepare Krishna's eagle-peaked chariot itself to take the sage around the city.

She watched, smiling, as Durvasa settled in the chariot, patting the cushions for good measure. Half the city had turned out outside the palace gates to see the prince's chariot being paraded. Krishna had decided to drive him himself. However, at the moment that Krishna was about to mount the chariot, Durvasa held up a finger, smiling. Krishna looked at him quizzically. "Untie the horses," Durvasa said.

"Why, Sir? Do you not like them? We have others!" Krishna reasoned.

"No, no...just humour me, untie them." Durvasa was still smiling. Rukmini felt strangely uneasy at that moment. A chariot without a steed? Krishna untied the beasts without another word and turned towards the sage, expectantly.

"Now get in there." 

Rukmini gasped as realization dawned on her. Durvasa wanted Krishna to pull the chariot himself. Rukmini felt like cursing herself for suggesting they take this one. This was one of the heaviest chariots on the continent, in addition to being the most ornate. Krishna stared at the sage for a few seconds before wordlessly picking up the huge golden yokes. "Wait!" Cried the sage. Rukmini prayed with all her heart for this to be a test, one that Krishna had passed, but instead, the man stayed at her, "What, do you need a special invitation, better half?" Rukmini looked bewildered. Surely, he couldn't expect her to pull this enormous car? The yokes themselves were taller than her! However, as she met the sage's eyes, she realized he was completely serious, and was quite enjoying bringing her husband 'down a few pegs' as he had put it so eloquently some time earlier. As she hesitating stepped between the yokes, narrowly avoiding the horses's ropes hanging from the sides, she saw Krishna whip back toward the sage. Krishna was staring unblinkingly at his face, his eyes blazing. Rukmini subtly touched his arm to signal him to give in. With a jolt, she realized that he was still burning up. Krishna slowly lowered his eyes to meet hers. She felt like crying as she saw the helplessness in his eyes.

Without another word, Krishna started pulling the chariot. Rukmini tried her best to reduce his efforts but to no avail. Krishna was pulling the bulk of the chariot, even though he occasionally stumbled, leaning on Rukmini for support. It pained her to hear his breaths get shallower and more laboured as they made their way through the main street. Then she heard...CRACK! Somehow, Durasa had sneaked a whip past all of them. Rukmini turned immediately to Krishna, whose face was contorted in pain. Before she could react, however, she felt a searing pain rip through her back. She looked up to see Krishna had turned back as well, glaring at the sage. "Well, now you know how your poor horses feel!" He laughed as he cracked it again, causing Rukmini to jump instinctively. Desperately, she shook her head at Krishna, not here, please, she pleaded. Krishna shook his head as he picked up the yoke again, and started walking.

As they had walked through the crowd of people who had come to see them, the cheering crowd had fallen silent, appalled at this inhumane treatment of their beloved prince and princess. However, none of them dared to protest, or even help, for they were all too familiar with Durvasa's reputation. Rukmini had gritted her teeth, trying her best not to react, even though she could feel streams of blood gliding down her back seeping through her now-tattered saree. Glancing at Krishna, she could see that his back was in a similar state as well, he was staggering at every second step now. Drawing in deep breaths, she tried to focus all her strength on the yoke she was pulling, to try and take at least some of the pressure off of her husband.

However, Rukmini had never performed hard labour in her life. Soon, she was coughing from exertion. "Water?" She croaked to Krishna. Immediately she felt a forward push on her arm. Krishna had halted the chariot and refused to move. "Does anyone have water here?" He asked the crowd. Immediately, a few arms thrust forward holding glasses of various shapes and sizes. Rukmini took one of them and took a sip. Immediately, she spit it out and pushed the glass into Krishna's hand. Krishna smelled it and looked around. By great chance, he had stopped the chariot right in front of a winery, and the owner had produced whatever liquid he had spotted first. "Anyone has water that isn't actually wine?" He called out while throwing a reproachful glance at the bartender. An old woman finally produced some water, quenching her thirst.

Both Rukmini and Krishna whipped around at the swish of another whiplash. Durvasa had cracked his whip against one of the wheels of the chariot, chipping the paint. "Having a grand old time, wine-tasting aren't we?" He taunted, as Rukmini recoiled from the sound itself. Durvasa continued, "Did not even feel the need to seek permission first, eh? Daughter of Bhishmaka? Addiction is a terrible disease you know, corrupts a person from the inside out. I've met both your father and brother, dear. No wonder you're going down the same path, it is in your blood after all!" 

Rukmini couldn't stop herself from breaking down this time. She had worked so hard to gain the trust of the citizens of Dwarika, to rid herself of the shame that her murderous brother had brought upon her. Here he was, breaking it all down with a single, cruel comment! Sowing the seeds of derision once more in the brains of these people! Rukmini helplessly let her tears fall to the ground, tugging desperately at the end of Krishna's dhoti.

Durvasa, however, was in no mood to stop. He continued berating her, finally raising his whip a final time, to hit her. Rukmini hid her face in her palms trying to brace for the impact but to her surprise, it never came. She slowly opened her eyes to see Krishna holding the other end of the whip in his hand. His eyes were fixed on Durvasa, watery and burning in anger. He was shaking furiously. With a swift motion, he snatched the whip from Durava's hand. Rukmini gasped. For a second it seemed like Krishna would hit him back. She couldn't lie to herself, that she kind of wished that he would. However, Krishna simply wrapped the whip around his arm and resumed pulling the chariot with renewed vigour. All around her, Rukmini saw the people bowing down to them, touching their feet through the barricade, whispering encouragements. Rukmini, at this point, did not even have the energy to thank them or push them back.

---

Durvasa had let the couple return to their chambers only past midnight, only after they had pulled him around the entire island. Rukmini was still shaking from shock when Krishna laid her down on his bed. He gently wiped the dried blood off her back, applying ointment as he went while Jambavati ran a soaked towel over her calloused feet. Satyabhama paced up and down the room, occasionally mumbling insults under her breath. Rukmini had tried to get her servants to attend to Krishna first but he had shooed them off citing a warrior's patience.

While Rukmini had expected Satyabhama to blow up at their treatment, what none of them had expected was Yashoda's reaction. She had yelped when she'd seen their backs and was about to go confront Durvasa herself. Krishna had calmed her with great difficulty. "Who does he think he is!" She had shrieked, "Is this some twisted vengeance for that time when you had stolen his lunch when you were five years old?!" Despite the dire situation, Krishna had laughed. "I seriously doubt he even remembers that he visited us that time, Maiya!" He had said.

Rukmini tried to hide it, but couldn't stop flinching occasionally as she tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The wounds on her back seared if she moved even an inch. She thought Krishna had fallen asleep, but as she turned she found him lying awake. "Can't sleep?" He smiled at her briefly, "I'm sorry I put you through this. I was unsure of who he would choose to curse if either you or I stood up to him. You've heard his words, he is capable of rousing a revolt within our kingdom, and inciting terrible war outside! Even without cursing, he is capable of destroying a lot of things."

"I understand, you did what you had to." Rukmini croaked. She tried not to let the pain show on her face. However, nothing ever evaded Krishna's sharp gaze, "Is it too bad? Shall we summon the doctor?"

Rukmini shook her head. The very thought of the doctor clicking in disapproval, and the news somehow getting to Durvasa, made her nauseous. Krishna nodded, "Okay, don't be mad, but let me call someone. What about Mayavati? I heard she's a gifted healer on top of a magician. Maybe she has something that will speed up the healing process!"

Rukmini wasn't very happy with the proposal. She didn't like Mayavati very much, but she also knew her husband. Once he'd mentioned it, Krishna wouldn't cease till he had convinced her. So, she weakly nodded her assent.

---

Rukmini sniffled as Mayavati walked in with Rukmavati. The latter was carrying a huge trunk, which she propped up against the bedframe. Rukmini clutched at her chest, almost laughing, "What have you done, Mayavate? Didn't Krishna tell you to be discreet?"

"Oh he did, so I created a wall of illusion to hide us as we came. No muss, no fuss..." Mayavati laughed cheerfully, "Now show me what happened?"

"Nothing much," Rukmini protested as the two women climbed up on the bed on either side of her, "I just wanted something to numb the pain, so I could go to sleep. I am so uncomfortable as is...what're you doing?"

Mayavati had lain her head on Rukmini's tummy. "Did you tell anyone?" She whispered conspiratorily, a smile spreading on her bright face. "What will mother tell?" Rukmavati asked innocently.

Rukmini blushed furiously. This was also part of the reason she had been refusing to see the family doctor. "Shh, you two! Don't go gossiping all over the town!" She chided them.

"Did you tell the prince about the baby?" Mayavati asked kindly.

Rukmini sighed, "Not yet. Please don't tell him, not now at least. He would end up with brahma-hatya on the list of his sins if he knew!"

"Frankly, I wouldn't blame him! But, I think he already has made an entry in that list of yours, or at least will do it soon. I saw him walking rather furiously towards Durvasa's room." Mayavati declared.

Rukmini gasped, "And you didn't stop him?"

"He is technically my father-in-law and a prince on top of that. I am not about to cross his path even if I think he's making the stupidest decision of his life!"

---

Krishna leaned on the doorframe of Durvasa's room. The sage was busy performing his nightly yajna. After some time, the sage finally ended his meditation and invited him in. Krishna, however, refused to enter. Standing at the doorframe itself he spoke, "How do you even look your Lord in the eye after what you do every day?"

Durvasa's eyes flickered before the dancing flame atop the sacred altar, "I have my understanding with the Lord. Do you?"

Krishna's nostrils flared, as his eyes blazed, "You're a sadist, Sir. You take pleasure in torturing innocent men, and women. Don't think I haven't heard your stories." He drew closer to the rishi, leaning over the open fire. One of his necklaces that hung over the fire grew hot, reddening his neck. Krishna seemed to pay no attention to it, "I know all about you, Durvasa. You burned your wife alive, and then rejuvenated her only to turn her into a tree?! You forced Shakuntala to raise a child on her own, rejected by her husband!" Krishna grasped the shoulder of Durvasa, making him flinch as he whispered, "I know what you did to Kunti,"

Durvasa hesitated for a second, "You don't realize what power I hold, Krishna. You can't even kill me. Killing Brahmans is a sin!"

"I've committed plenty of sins, Durvasa," Krishna slipped down onto the floor before the sage, "And you know what, I have accepted the consequences of those. I have made peace with my oncoming punishments. So, Durvasa, I really don't mind adding another one on there. See, I've got you now. I refuse to give you the satisfaction of hurting me further. I'd rather kill you first and take the penalty for that."

Durvasa sputtered, "You...you petty thief! From your childhood, I'd known you'd turn out this way!"

Krishna chuckled, slapping his thighs, "So it is about that?! Maiya was right after all; you absolute freaking child! You've held that grudge for thirty years?!" Krishna's face grew solemn, "Now you listen to me loud and clear. Take your imbecile students, and be gone from here my morning. If you ever try to think of harming anyone that protected by me, you will live to regret it! Remember, I am not as devout as I look, Durvasa!"

"Huh," Durvasa protested, "You can't drive a guest from your house! Lord Shiva would be ashamed of you if you did!"

Krishna chortled, as he suddenly grabbed Durvasa's hand, "Really, Sir? Say what, let's take a trip to Kailasha right now! Let's see how thrilled, Shiva, the husband of Sati and Parvati, is to hear all about what you did to my wife. Shall we?"

Durvasa glared at him, defeated at his own argument.

---

The next morning, Rukmini woke up to find, with incredulity, a note lying at her door. An apology, addressed from Durvasa! She was definitely the only woman in the entire universe to have received this specimen! Excitedly she woke up Krishna, who only smiled sweetly, denying any involvement, no matter how many times Rukmini asked.

Finally, she gave up, choosing instead to lie down on his chest, smiling shyly, "Unlike you, I actually have some beans to splill." She whispered as she nuzzled her face at the nape of his neck.

[theolivebird]

My 4-year-old daughter and I had a delightful tour of Little India yesterday. We were greeted by the smells of incense and spices once we arrived at Tekka Centre. There were shops selling flower garlands, elephant ornaments, silverware, shiny earrings and bangles, glittering traditional dresses, colourful traditional sweets, and sticks of peacock feathers. We took some close looks but didn't linger for long because the Indians were hungry businessmen. One bangle lady came to us and immediately draped the ornamental pearls around Oli's wrist. "It's nice," she said. Luckily, Oli was willing to take it off, and we bought nothing in that vibrant market.

Then, we went to the Indian Heritage Centre and had a nice little tour of the air-conditioned sterile place. There were bits of interesting information, but Oli was impatient and too young to care who Gandhi was. She was a lot more interested in getting a henna, so we made our way to the Arcade. Very quickly, we found a rudimentary stall - nothing pretentious or fancy. I asked, "How much?" The boss (and artist) replied, "$5, flower or butterfly?" So, we sat down, and Oli had a little butterfly design on her hand in no more than a few minutes. She was quite nervous and worried that it might hurt. It didn't, of course. But she was a little overwhelmed at that point, so we went to a little cafe to have cheese naan and some cold drinks. The naan was okay; I've had better ones. But the daal was amazingly rich with vegetables and spices.

As we had done all we wanted to do, we decided to head home. Again, I pointed out Lord Krishna and "the princess" in the decorative banner, and some Indian men who overheard me were pleasantly surprised that I knew their culture. I was also proud to know Ganesha, the elephant god, and Meenakshi, the Goddess.

On the bus, Oli leaned against my arm and promptly fell asleep.

[neelamkishabdvaahini]

Stardust

Our relations define us. Our life is a product of who we meet, know, or live with. It has been 955 days and 22,920 hours since I posted my first blog post here. It is now time for a small revealer.

I was not even in middle school when my Nani (maternal grandma) passed away. To be truly honest, I never came to understand her properly. When she was running behind me, I was busy enjoying my new world out of mom's uterus, and when I got some sense, she said goodbye. So she was 'Neelam.'

But this blog isn't about her. It was never about her. She wasn't a poet, writer, or a philosopher. And she did not possibly teach me any of the things I write here on Tumblr. Then what did that old lady do that she has her name written right on the top?

'Vaahini' in Hindi means channel. And my pretty granny decided to make me a delicate channel. So, some stardust was sprinkled on me by my grandma (who is possibly enjoying a glass of wine with the Gods now). And that canon event has led to all the beautiful writing I do. My Nani gave birth to my mother, but that is not too big of an accomplishment.

Nani, you still deserve a million thank yous, and well yes a blog by your name for doing something magnificent. Thank you Nani for raising a girl who is much more than my mother. 

PS: She is not at all like you and does not make better food as well.

Thank you Nani for making me fall in love with the festival- Janamashtmi. It was because of you that I dressed up as Radha and sang in my very horrible voice a famous Bhajan dedicated to Lord Krishna.

As a writer, I have had many Eureka moments, and I know that it is your stardust that brings me all those values you couldn't give me in your lifetime.

On a slightly different note...

We go to Uttarakhand every year. Every year it is. My mother loves it and now I have to love it too. I have literally visited every inch of this state. From Haridwar to Chamoli and from Dehradun to Nainital, there is beauty, beauty, and beauty. Aesthetic, spiritual, and cultural beauty. Too much beauty and altitude make me dizzy. But when you know it is the comfort destination for your mother, you end up loving even the mischievous monkeys that reside in every temple’s corridor. Believe it or not Mom, today when I am getting accepted by universities abroad, I understand why the snow in Uttrakhand is gold.

My mother has taught me what a family is. I can’t possibly say that we are the best family in the world because the life I am living with them is the only life I know about. And I can't possibly say that Mom you are the best mother because you are the only mother I have ever had. Plus that would be unfair to Nani. But what I can say is that I am the best version of myself today because I have you.

Happy Birthday Mumma!

This blog isn't the best description of you because you know you are not the best mother in the world.

 Nani, you have to help me choose. Which bhajan from your abundance am I supposed to sing next?

I greet the divine within you-"Namaste"

[swarapatil8]

78th Year of Independence but still women live in fear

Criticizing Vinesh Phogat, not getting her correct physiotherapist when needed, not providing proper support, supporting people like Brij Bhusan, criticizing her when disqualified for Olympics even after not knowing her story. Hating her not knowing how many times she cried for her country and its success.

RG Kar College case : A 31 year old Doctor raped and murdered brutally. Not proper safety for Doctors who save others lives. I guess men like the murderers think it's a joke to say "Doctors are like gods". "Beti bachao beti padhao", beti padh likh kar doctor bhi ban gayi aur raat me patients ko problem na ho isliye night shift lag gai uski, par uske sath kuch bura hua. And to make it worse, politicians blabber nonsense about her too.

Jharkand : A 3 year old nursery girl raped by near about 30 year old van driver. Now the babies are also not safe?

A girl killed for wearing jeans for a religious ritual. They say wearing jeans is against our culture so is murder in our culture? Is killing our culture?

A employee of cafe in Bengaluru, a pretty well developed city, puts his phone inside the ladies washroom. Now using a washroom is also not safe for women?

I guess men got the independence but women are still fighting for their.

Being a girl you will always listen to things like : don't go outside at night, return home before 7, dress properly, don't wear revealing clothes, don't put too much makeup, don't wear short clothes. It's ridiculous that these days wearing your own traditional attire like saree will still make men objectify on women.

To dear parents, before telling your daughters how to live, instruct your boys to behave properly, keep a eye on what their thoughts are, keep a watch on who are the people in their friend circle, make sure them to respect women. Khud ko alpha male, masculine agar sach me bulana hai to take inspiration from Lord Rama, Lord Krishna, Lord Shiva.

There are men in my circle who respect women so much.

Not all men are same.

I wanna conclude with saying only one thing that is, if people no matter men or women behave and stay in their own limit, this country will truly develop and be independent for each and every living being.

[ramayantika]

Rajkumari Aarnika mb Dwarkadheesh Krishna mb

। Prologue।

“Sakhi, never in my life did I think that I would advise you this, but,” The newly crowned queen of Ratnagarh, Vedashree, gently rubbed her best friend's shoulder, “you have to take some action now. Nobody can save your future, but you, Aarnika.”

“What should I do? Is there any way out? My father has surrounded the chamber with guards, and my brother is guarding my every move, Veda.” Aarnika, the princess of Mahishaka cried to her best friend, worrying about a future she had nightmares of.

Vedashree opened the windows of her friend's chamber and looked out. Ten guards were stationed on the corridors. The maids were busy decorating the pillars for the princess's wedding to the prince of Vidarbha.

The young queen and the princess had been very close friends since childhood, and Vedashree knew her way around Aarnika's palace, for she frequently visited and stayed with the princess.

She turned back to her friend who was sniffling and furiously wiping her tears every second. Aarnika's face had lost its pallor. She was dressed in the best of silks and shining jewels, but she no longer looked like the divine beauty she was. She looked like a withered flower.

Vedashree could not see her friend in such a pity state. Aarnika had already lost her heart to someone else and was wholeheartedly devoted to him. How could she marry some other man again? How could she marry a man who had once angered and insulted the man she loved?

She picked an empty scroll, grabbed a quill and an inkpot, and placed them in front of Aarnika. “If you run away alone, you will be found easily. I could take you with me, but your brother might declare a war on my kingdom. Take this quill and write a letter to Dwarkadheesh. You may not have your desired love story, but you have a better future with him. Your brother won't be able to declare a war on Dwaraka. You will be safe with him, I know. Run away with him.”

It was better to be one of his queens than live in a loveless marriage with a man whose life's purpose was to seek revenge from the Lord of Dwaraka. All her life, the Mahishaka princess had to live under the ways dictated by her father and brother.

Run away.

No. She would rebel against them for herself, for her life. She would not live like her mother.

Grabbing the squill from Vedashree's fingers, she dipped it into the ink-pot.

To the Lord of Dwaraka

»»————> ◌◌◌◌◌◌ <————««

I could not find a title for this so chose very basic one like Vivah Bandhan which sounds like Ekta Kapoor's show I think but maaf kar do and also for this chutku prologue.

Tagging the tumblr gopis: @ma-douce-souffrance @jessbeinme15 @fantasticchaosdaze (also the one who requested this fic) @lil-stark @manwalaage @itsfookingloosah @pothosinpots @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @riiddhhiii @phoenix666stuff @pokemon-master-elita @saanjh-sakhi @arachneofthoughts

[blessed1neha]

Story behind Sri Hari Vishnu’s Vithoba Avtaar

The saga of Pundalik is one of the most important Mahimas (legends) about Vithoba (Bhagavan Vishnu/Panduranga). Pundalik is a devoted son to his parents Janudev and Satyavati, who lived in a forest called Dandirvan. But after his wedding, Pundalik begins ill-treating his parents. Tired with their son’s misbehavior and ill-treatment, the elderly couple decide to leave for Kashi. Upon hearing his parents’ plans, Pundalik and his wife decide to join them on pilgrimage. While the youthful son and his wife ride on horseback, the frail old couple walk in bad weather and the ill-treatment continued. Every evening, when the party camps for the night, the son forces his parents to groom the horses and do other jobs.

On the way to Kashi, the group reaches the ashram (hermitage) of a pious and venerable sage, Kukkutswami. Exhausted, the family decides to spend a few days there. That night, when all were asleep, Pundalik by chance is awake and sees a remarkable vision. Just before dawn, a group of beautiful young women, dressed in soiled clothes, enter the ashram; they clean the floor, fetch water and wash the venerable sage’s clothes. After finishing their chores, they go to the prayer-room. When they reappear after prayer, their clothes are spotlessly clean. Then, they vanish as inexplicably as they had appeared. Pundalik feels a deep sense of peace witnessing the scene. It remains on his mind the whole day and he resolves to remain awake the next night, and confirm it was not merely a dream. Pundalik is very curious and approaches the beautiful women and asks them of their details. They reply that they are the Ganga, Yamuna and other holy rivers of India. Pilgrims wish to take a dip in their holy waters to wash away their sins, and that is soiling their clothes. Then, the women say: “But O Pundalik, with your ill-treatment of your parents, you are the greatest sinner of them all!”

Pundalik is utterly shocked and his conscience transforms. He realises his misdeeds, becomes entirely devoted to his parents and ensures their comfort. Devotion in any form reaches God swiftly and impressed by Pundalik’s devotion to his parents, Lord Vishnu plans to bless and pays a visit to Pundalik’s ashram.Vishnu knocks at Pundalik’s door, while he is busy serving his parents. Pundalik does realise that God is at his door, but such was his devotion to his parents, he wants to complete his duties and then attend the visitor. Then, Pundalik does something strange but out of real devotion. He pushes a brick outside for God to stand on and wait for him until he finishes attending to his parents.Seeing this act, Vishnu is extremely pleased and the ever-loving God waits for his devotee.When Pundalik comes out, he begs for pardon from the Lord but far from being displeased, Vishnu is overtaken by Pundalik’s love for his parents and grants him a boon. Pundalik requests Vishnu to stay back on Earth and bless all his devotees.The Lord agrees to take the form of Vithoba, or God who stood upon a brick (brick aka Vith), and a temple was built there. Along with Vithoba, Rakhumai (Rukmini, the consort of Krishna) is also worshipped here.

[shesadollette]

𓍊𓋼𓍊 Total chapters: 4

𖡼𖤣𖥧 Taglist: @raiha-storm65557, @linsyfelisyya

Ⱄⱄ. 𓆏 .ⱄⰔ

I: A Curious Encounter

In this story, I dreamt of a peacock that possessed an ability to speak and I saw looming gates of a mansion overlooking an acre of verdant belonging to a very wealthy person. I decided to expand and make it into a piece of fable and thus, it is how this story was born in my head…

Once upon a time, in a tiny, remote village in India, lived an heiress who as per usual would spend her days lazing around in her ginormous mansion.

She was well-known to be filthy rich and pretty, but she was also known for her short temper and mean demeanor.

Almost every day, beggars knocked on her gates hoping that they would be given a penny or a grain of rice. And each time they knocked, they’d receive either an earful or if they were fortunate, the gates slamming obnoxiously in their faces.

That year, the village experienced a massive drought. Crops wilted, many livestock died, and the poor villagers were famished. The heiress was the only one known to be the wealthiest in the village; however, knowing her demeanor the villagers didn’t dare to ask for her help and ended up praying to the gods.

Needless to say, their prayers were answered.

One fateful dawn as she was deep in slumber, Lord Krishna appeared in her chambers and with a palm hovered over her forehead, chanted, “My dear child, once you arouse in the morning a peacock shall be waiting by your grand doors. Treat it with sincerity and respect its wishes for it will bring you happiness in your upcoming days. It is my gift to you. You shall treat it well.”

And with that, he disappeared out of thin air, much like how he had appeared.

Not long after, when the slightest rays of the sun began showing on the floor, she woke up from her slumber in deep confusion. She vaguely recalled that somebody had visited her in her dreams while muttering something that she was supposed to remember.

However, she thought nothing of it and brushed it off. She then went to wash herself in the river in the back of her mansion and got dressed in one of her expensive and dazzling garments.

‘I feel like eating some fresh berries for breakfast,’ she thought, grabbing a basket before strolling toward the entrance and swinging them wide open… only to be surprised by a peacock, squawking at her.

Then it struck her, the so-called dream last night.

She gawked at it, jaw dropped. It really was a gorgeous bird but what in the world was it doing standing pridefully right in front of her entrance like so?

“You,” she growled, thick brows furrowing. “A strange voice in my dreams told me that I’d be met with a certain peacock at my entrance. I believe it is you?” She cocked an eyebrow. She then went on recalling the rest of her dream, scoffing in disbelief. “Why that’s ridiculous, have I gone mad already? The fact that a bird would bring me fortune? Oh, please do enlighten me on that.”

She swerved past it, barely managing to make it a few steps into her garden when she heard a voice.

“No no, I can assure you that you are completely sane.”

She swiveled around, eyes wide as saucers but oddly, no one was there but the bird. “Who said that? Was it you?” she asked the peacock warily.

It squawked in exasperation, “Why yes, who or in this case, what else would it be?”

She froze, agape. “Oh my, I must have really gone mad. Perhaps a bit of fresh air would help,” she mumbled worriedly to herself and gradually turned around to step into the garden, attempting to ignore it completely.

“Hey, where are you going? Aren’t you supposed to bring me with you?” it called out, waddling after her.

“This is just a dream, isn’t it? It’s definitely just a dream… A talking peacock? Not in this lifetime. I must be completely out of my mind to think so.”

“Quit it! I told you that you are completely fine. You’re not going mad, young lady. You’re just in denial.”

“Denial, huh?” she laughed incredulously. “Mind elaborating on that?” she bent down to pluck some plump berries into her basket.

“Please, just listen to me! You are not going insane, trust me. I promise you that if you treat me sincerely that you’d be joyful in return,” the bird pleaded with its life, frustrated.

“And how, exactly, is a bird like you supposed to do that other than to be a decoration for my collection of hats?” she spat.

“Ouch,” it clucked, “harsh words, my lady. We shall begin by fixing those manners of yours. I assure you that I do have my ways. All you have to do is to trust me. The only question is, are you willing?”

A long sigh escaped her. She pursed her lips before looking away momentarily as if to gather her thoughts together.

“One chance,” she finally decided and glanced down at it. “One chance to prove that you are worthy, if not, then my gates are always open to throw you out.”

It squawked cheerfully, “Wonderful! Then let’s begin, shall we?”

➳ Chapter the Second