And thus it has been ordained,
by Thou thyself
that in the deepest folds
of all hearts,
one hears
hushed sussarations of Thy name.
What else, if not Thy word
in the contours of our being?
Who else, if not Thee,
in the depths of all souls?

Sabhe ghat raam bole, raamaa bole!
Raam bina ko bole re!!

-

-: Whispers:-
In the shadows of each passing day,
I feel my spirit slowly fray.
Pushing forward, yet weighed with sorrow,
Struggling to see a brighter tomorrow.

Each goal pursued, each dream in flight,
Yet voices echo, "worthless," despite the fight.
Responsibilities burden, futures unclear,
Lonely whispers drown out in fear.

No solace found, no comfort near,
In this world that fails to hear.
Silent cries, unheard pleas,
Lost in a sea of harsh decrees.

Why, oh why, this heavy load,
On shoulders young, on hearts bestowed?
Why are daughters labeled a weight to bear,
While sons are hailed, success declared?

In this cruel dance of societal norms,
A daughter's worth faces relentless storms.
But hear me now, my voice resounds,
Though thoughts of suicide do confound.

For though the world may try to dim my light,
I'll shine on, through the darkest night.
But as despair weighs heavy, and hope seems far,
The shadows deepen, like a scar.

So let the doubters doubt, the cynics scorn,
I'll rise above, though my heart is torn.
For in this cruel world, where pain does grow,
I'll stand alone, but my spirit shall know.

-

" Inn lamhon ko jee lo sukoon se,
Kisi shayar ne kaha hai ye waqt dobara nhi aata..."

-

Magical, love's touch.
A flash of inspiration.
The whispers of heart,
fondly scribbled in blue ink.
Soft, the caress of verses.

-

Sing for me, dear bird,
the song of hills and mountains.
A joyful chorus,
a ballad of my hometown,
a melody of my land.

-

You be my shadow,
never ever forsaking,
walking by my side.
Guiding me towards the sun,
telling me my real worth.

-

Sultry summer noons,
you in arcades of my mind.
Whiff of gentle breeze,
crimson rejuvenation,
this gentle sprouting of love.

-

This road is narrow,
mesh of blended blood vessels,
leading to the heart.
But the one that leads to soul,
well, that's the one least explored!

-

This be my prayer.
This longing, stirring of love,
faithful plunge of soul,
in the days of abundance,
as in trials and ruffles.

-

अहंकार पर चोट मारकर ही परमआत्मा की मूर्ति तराशी जाती है

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