Durga Pooja
In the prayers of the purohit
The chanting of the mantras
The aura of the: pratima:
The fragrance of the flowers,
The flickering of the deeyas,
The redolence of the incense,
The sprinkling of the holy water,
The serving of the prasadam,
The dresses and the costumes,
The scents and the perfumes,
The flow of the music ~
The lyrics of the songs,
The beats of the drums,
The rhythms of the dances,
The prattles and the laughs,
The gaggles of those voices,
In those throngs of people,
I saw you, you and only you.
No, dear Durga Ma,
I’m sorry to say,
It wasn’t you.
It was my Beloved
To whom my silence
Echoed: I love you.
Jidhar Dekhun, Teri Tasveer
Nazar Aati Hai…
Teri Soorat, Meri Taqdeer
Nazar Aati Hai…
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Related quotes
Dua! ! !
teray chehray pay mein gul rang nazaaray dekhun
muskurati hui aankhon mein sitaray dekhun
maand na hon kabhi chehray pay khushi ki kirnen
teri nazron mein hama waqt sharaaray dekhun
yeh dua he teri raahon mein bhanwar na ho koi
teri nao ko mein darya k kinaaray dekhun
teri khatir mein Khuda say yeh talab karti hun
jis qadar dost bhi dekhun wo tumhaaray dekhun
apnay bandhan pay kabhi bhi na koi aanch aey
iss jahan ko teri chahat k sahaaray dekhun
raat andheri ho ya pheli hui mahtab shaben
aasman per teri taqdeer k taaray dekhun
jis dagar per teray jaanay ka guman ho jaey
uss dagar ko na kbhi khof k maaray dekhun
teri aamad ka pata inn se hi lug jata he
mein badaltay hue mosam k ishaaray dekhun
azal say behtey huay jharnon ki maanind Batool
dosti k sada behtay hue dharay dekhun...
poem by Shahzia Batool
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Amma k naam...! ! ! (Urdu)
Janay kiskis tarha mushkil se sambhala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko......!
Apne kirdar se, guftaar se taaleem kia
Neik seerat bharay afkaar se taaleem kia
kia sahi, kia he ghalat, nok palak batlai
Ye namaz or dua tu ne hamay sikhlai
Tu ne kundan ki tarha se he ujaala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!
Tarbiat din ki aulad ko aamaal se di
Roshni tu ne sahi raah ki afa'al se di
Zer e taameer sahi, me teri taameer to hun
Aaj me jo hun teri zaat ki tasveer to hun
Tu ne suraj ki tarha shab se nikala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!
Kese pehchaanay teri zeest ka unwaan koi
Bistar e marg tha ya jang ka maidaan koi
Itni takleef sahi dil se magar sabr kia
lub se shikva na dia, sham o sahar shukr kia
Kon mushkil me bhala de ga sambhaala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!
Akhri baar kalejay se mujhe liptana
Kese bhoolay ga kalaavon ka hamay pehnana
Mere naa cheez se haathon ko lagaya lub se
Dil Batool ab bhi yehi bol raha he tub se
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!
Meri maa tu ne boht pyar se paala mujh ko!
poem by Shahzia Batool
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I think it helps a lot when they tell people that Teri Hatcher likes you. If you're Teri Hatcher's boyfriend, suddenly you're hunky I guess. I've spent 40 years being average and now I'm Teri hatcher's boyfriend and here we are. I've been really fortunate.
quote by James Denton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Worship
I saw that
Old man
Offering
Prayers
To the
Mother
Goddess
Amidst
The chanting
Of the mantras
The observance
Of the religious
Rites, rituals…
And fragrance
Of the incense,
Not forgetting
Lighting of the
Holy fire.
In between
The yajna
Whenever
He got those
Little breaks,
When the purohit
Found himself
Busy with all and
Sundry…
The old man
Never missed
A chance to berate
His wife, before
The audience,
Pulling her on
Every little
Thing she might
Have done a-miss
While arranging for
The Puja.
He had forgotten
She was as old
As he seemed to be,
She was frail and feeble,
Her body ridden with
Arthritis.
He remembered
He was the
Man of the
House and so
Had every right
To pick on his wife,
Whose eyes brimmed
With tears, being sneered
By him before the
Onlookers.
Yet, as every
Subservient
Wife does,
She kept quiet.
Her silent tears
Didn't move
The old man.
He continued
Worshipping
The mother goddess
Unperturbed by his
Wife's state of
Unfolding misery.
I kept wondering
If the goddess
Would accept the
Prayers of this
Ardent devotee
Who's trying
So many ways
To appease her
From day long
Fasts to endless
Sacrifices of
Money, time
And animals…
All for this
Stone idol of a
Deity.
Yet, this devout
Hindu doesn't
Respect the
Living and
Breathing…
Grihalakshmi
Of his home and
Hearth.
(Theme: Hypocrisy)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Kash Kabhi Aisa Hota
Kash kabhi aisa hota
Teri justuju me meri khusi na hoti
Tum bolti aur mujhe sunne ki kwahish na hoti
Tum khamosh hoti aur mujhme bebasi na hoti
Kash kabhi aisa hota…………..
Tum naaraz hoti aur mujhme manane ki bekarari na hoti
Tum paas hoti aur mujhe kahin jane ki kwahish ho jati……….
Tum dur jati aur mujhe paas na aane ka istaqlal ho jata..
Kash kabhi aisa hota…..
Teri khushi me meri jindagi na hoti
To tum bhi azad ho jati………….
Meri har betuki bato se
Alhar swalo se.., namuraad jwabo se…..
kash kabhi aisa hota
poem by Ainan Ahmad
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Exploring The Joys Of Music
Music resembles a bouquet
it comes to sound of wonder floating in the air
dances gracefully, a setting of romance
it holds a surprise like stars that twinkle
its a divine art that pleasures, like treasures
it's like sunshine, exposing light to brighten our minds
its sentiment welcomes the halls, of warm mellow elegance of sound Music ties to a big bouquet, it sets the stage places the mood for
a wedding day lingering rhythm brings meaning of courting days
varieties compare to flowers in a florist the beats of drums in
a jungle of Africa thunder burst produces a rumble, music is a
miracle its love comes true its passionate in moonlight and in
summer night music is a mystery of heavenly stars, prayers set
to music to praise Christ, music carries us in time preeminently
songs we are fond of, to croon, we rehearse and we carry through
the end of time; feelings of joy, it excites us in spirit, its
sweet we keep time with our feet, old songs are memories for-ever
to keep, it's all clusters in mind
poem by Inez Kobus
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My Eyes Open Into All Citadels
born into soft cradle songs
hymn human heart speech
across millennia passings
my eyes open into all citadels
world faiths winged prayers
heavenward cultures aspirings
purity worships in pristine beauty smiles
radiant as each breath divinity shines
in eyes sparkle love peace God happiness
all beauty all arts all sculptures
dedicated by prayer worship hearts
singing their soul divinity praises
all sung in love purity creator offerings
all is heavenly music cascading rhythms
all is harmony glorious angelic melodies
these lines words sing to me in crystal rhythms
times past so clearly felt benediction worships
eyes shine in joy love as God souls embraces
all praise God with nobility of their services
all love God across landscapes ethnic diversities
all praise God with sincerity hearts devotions
'Dotted with holy shrines, churches, mosques
Built in antique styles fitting home for mystics
Varied cultures, unique rituals and festal airs'
all praise God with singing love life heart offerings
souls great repositories of virtues vices dreams ideals
soaking up life truths serene silence purity seekings
I love the diversity of all these sincere people
pouring out their love, their worship to God;
these beloved souls share God love one people
in heaven everywhere voices sing songs are sung
by each individual in love and praise of God;
different genders, voices, songs, but all sparkling
with their individual love praise worship of God;
I also want to sing only of love not differences
a great sea of love washes souls into presence God
Inspired by and quotation from the poem ‘MY MOTHERLAND’ by Rekha Sathya.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Festive Time
Hey Devotee!
It is festive time
For you,
To please yourself
And me.
Yet, I’m sorry to say
It doesn’t appease me.
You must be
Really enjoying
The cacophony
Of drums and beats
That scare away the birds
And animals on the streets.
May be, there are old people
Resting nearby in the very same
Streets through which your
Clamorous procession proceeds.
May be, a baby is in deep slumber.
May be, a child is having his exams.
May be, someone is reeling under
High fever. Needs some rest, if only
You could feel and see their stress
That keeps rising…the more your
Blaring mikes reach their crescendos.
What about the waters of my rivers
That swell up with tears…they know
At the end of the day, when the
Pooja culminates, the Pratima is
Immersed for Visarjan,
Their flora and fauna will take the brunt
Of all the plastic, the lead and mercuric
Colours, the numerous poly bags,
That float all over…
My waters blow up with carcasses
In the burning ghats, as if that wasn’t
Enough, now you do it all the year
Through…some Pooja or the other,
And my fish and crabs, turtles and frogs,
The shells and corals, the molluscs, you name it,
I have it in varied forms: my aquatic life
Pays the price for your water pollution.
Not to mention the noise pollution -
That comes with every Pooja celebration.
Why make a hue and cry, why publicise
Religion, why commercialise it, why not
Offer silent prayers to your temple deity?
I’m omniscient. I know it all…
Your desires and wishes.
I know you love me.
No need to overflow with so many emotions
That disturb the peace and tranquility
Of the environment.
Please preserve its sanctity.
Do not detonate it with all your commotion.
Religion should be heartfelt devotion.
Not a razzmatazz of pomp and show.
Remember me in your silent prayers,
Why upset the eco balance with your
Irreverent actions of religious fervour?
Worship me as Kali, Durga, Lakshmi.
I may be also your Saraswati. You also
See me as Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, Ganesha.
So many forms, myriad tales of my myths.
But leave out nature from the pain and agony
You inflict on its plants, birds and animals.
Don’t malign religion
With noise pollution
And water pollution.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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The Joy of My Youth
The morning is cold,
the moon slung low
lighting the snow
iridescently blue
In the dark, glowing church
red votives flame
throwing bright prayers
to the ceiling
Introibo ad altare Dei,
The old priest intones
“I will go
to the alter of God”
and I quickly recite
Ad Deum qui laetificat
juventutem meam
“To God,
the joy of my youth.”
The church is empty,
but still we go on,
chanting the ancient love-songs
to the One who lives
in the flickering flame
to the One who rises
in ascending incense
and hears our words
and becomes them.
poem by Steven Federle
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I Listen To thy Music Everywhere!
I feel my spine is thy flute,
My breath is thine,
Producing strange music,
AUM in different tone and pitch!
My heart beats like Drum and
bass,
when my ears able to listen,
Songs you sing
Everytime different and new,
using different flutes!
Thy face I see in mirror of
different drops of life,
the rainbow of colors appear,
When your light refract through
drops that rain from heaven!
Thy light glows too in fire of hell,
and thy beauty in colourful
flowers,
Birds and butterflies,
Thy light shines in different colours,
life in every species making whole world colourful!
Thy song echoed even in murmur of bees,
in the flow of rivers,
Or in the voice of persons,
and the noice of people alike In the roar of a lion or of ocean waves,
Or in the silence of icy
mountains,
I listen to thy music everywhere!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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I am blessed to be able to work at a job I love and also give back in the most vital way - to people in need.
quote by Teri Hatcher
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Goddess Durga - Prayer
Goddess Durga! O My mother!
you, the invincible power!
you are strength of deities
you destroy all the fear.
Goddess Durga! O My mother!
you, the mother of universe,
It's you who takes care of it
and removes glooms of hearts.
Goddess Durga! O My mother!
universe is just your fraction,
You are the absolute of
creation, operation, destruction.
Goddess Durga! O My mother!
without you life is no meaning,
Whoever remembers you
you arrive for their wellbeing.
Goddess Durga! O My mother!
we're thankful what you given;
Keep away troubles and pains,
let your kindness be remain.
Goddess Durga! O My mother!
be kind to accept our prayers,
Let always be your compassion
for blissful living of your creatures.
Goddess Durga! O My mother!
let your world always be radiant,
Stay to protect everyone
everywhere and every moment.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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What Is There In The Night?
What is there in the night?
only darkness...
the flowers, the trees are the same...
only not lightened
and the people...
only tired.
What is there in the night?
not a silence...
the voices in the garden...
loud and clear
and the water in the river...
only chanting.
What is there in the night?
...only darkness.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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One Whisper of the Beloved
Lovers share a sacred decree –
to seek the Beloved.
They roll head over heels,
rushing toward the Beautiful One
like a torrent of water.
In truth, everyone is a shadow of the Beloved –
Our seeking is His seeking,
Our words are His words.
At times we flow toward the Beloved
like a dancing stream.
At times we are still water
held in His pitcher.
At times we boil in a pot
turning to vapor –
that is the job of the Beloved.
He breathes into my ear
until my soul
takes on His fragrance.
He is the soul of my soul –
How can I escape?
But why would any soul in this world
want to escape from the Beloved?
He will melt your pride
making you thin as a strand of hair,
Yet do not trade, even for both worlds,
One strand of His hair.
We search for Him here and there
while looking right at Him.
Sitting by His side we ask,
'O Beloved, where is the Beloved?'
Enough with such questions! –
Let silence take you to the core of life.
All your talk is worthless
When compared to one whisper
of the Beloved.
I understand how hard it is to talk to people about MS. You don't want pity or random advice.
The Aura Of Being
LIKE A RADIATING AURA,
MY WHOLE BEING GLOWS OUTWARDLY,
WITH THE BURNING PASSION FOR TRUTH,
LIKE THE FIRE OF MY BEING,
MY AURA GLOWS,
YES, I WILL EXHALE WITH RELIEF,
WHEN THIS FEELING BEGETS ANOTHER,
THE AURA OF MY BEING IS ME,
I AM ME, YES I AM ME,
A SOVEREIGN BEING THAT LOVES TO LOVE AND HATES TO HATE,
THE AURA OF MY BEING IS ME,
MY PASSION FOR TRUTH,
MY LOVE FOR INTEGRITY,
YES IN THE AURA OF MY BEING, I BASK,
I WILL SING MY SONGS WITH JOY,
I WILL CRY MY TEARS ALONE,
I WILL FEEL MY PAINS ALONE,
I WILL BEAR MY SORROWS ALONE,
WHY? MY BEING IS MY AURA,
MY AURA IS MY BEING,
I AM A BEING RADIATING WITH THE AURA OF REGALITY.
MY AURA IS MY INTEGRITY.
THE AURA OF THE TIGER, PROTECTS THE TIGER.
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Kochi
There is divinity in her eyes
There is serenity in her face
There is purity in her soul,
She overflows with plentiful
Charm and grace.
There is simplicity in her being
She is nature's gift to me :)
With her bountiful natural beauty.
She has a naivety about her
And she's also very cheeky!
I keep falling head over heels
In love with her...
The more she amuses me
With her childish chivalry!
Yes, she's my little girl of three
She's none other than my
Dearest, darling Kochi :)
(Touch Wood. Nazar Na Lage)
I wrote this dedication in 2007 when my beloved daughter was just 3. Her name is Rupashri Chatterjee. I lovingly call her Kochi (which in Bangla means: the tender one) .
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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I have worked enough and I am happy to be touring the country speaking about living with MS to give people inspiration and motivation to help themselves.
The Reclining DeityI
Majestic
on the lap of Anantha, the snake
he lay
eyes closed in divine pleasure
gods on all sides
Kaveri at his feet
the majestic Vishnu
huge mamoth like
wearing a child like smile
the lord of the universe
the lord of many hearts
in the town of
Sreerangapatana
the city of Sreeranga
and the heads bowed
in reverence
in respect
in adoration
when in the evening
he was brought out
to survey the land that is his
the abode that is his
to music
to beating drums
to chanting of mantras
tears of joy and sorrow
of life and lifelessness
of oneness to him
overpowered them all
in utter silence they stood
and broke then into cries
hey! Vishnu! hey Vishnu
Doth he hear
doth he feign ignorance
no one doubted.
poem by Sreelekha Premjit
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Dance Cheat
You are my dance-time lover
the one who dances dances dances;
while I sit at the table
with my husband.
I am bathed in music
and incipient Infidelity
because it is you I crave.
In my mind I get to move with you
your face always in change:
but in your dance
I reach for the evening sky;
expand,
moving with the energies,
losing myself to rhythms there.
Is it cheating?
It is.
Dancing's the blame
and a heart structure
which has no power against
dancers who seduce
wives
with music
and bodies which ungulate.
I am warm.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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