Dreaming
Happened!
I swear by the chaste vast firmament
Through which pierces into the depths of azury ocean
Whizzing like an arrow the sanguine sun
The phratric first of Ikshvaku domain
Of which notable king was Lord Rama
To whom drowned gusty in devotion like Hanuman
I was taken to recite my verses
Which when opened got drowned
Into the unfathomable mercy of Lord Rama's effulgence
Which made His whole court tolerant
That ever so makes me pursue my dreaming..
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Related quotes
Seeta, a pity.
Seeta, you are a noble lady,
So chaste, so modest and so graceful.
Rama is your noble lord,
So virtuous, so chivalrous and so truthful.
Ravna is your bitter lover,
So passionate, so devoted and so lustful.
Rama waged a war to redeem you.
Ravna laid his life to retain you.
Rama loved you, as you are his wife.
Ravna wanted you for what you are.
Rama tested you by fire.
If you failed, what would be your fate?
Can Ravna do so, if he were in Rama’s shoes?
Love of Rama is conditional
Love of Ravna is categorical.
Rama loves you; Ravna devours you.
You are second to none to Ravna,
Who lost everything for you and
Who could do anything for you?
Have not you committed a sin
In being the cause for killing a loving dog?
The love for keeping chastity,
More than you love for Rama,
Weighed on you to reject Ravna.
The love for your chastity,
Rather than his love for you,
Weighed on Rama to own you back.
Ravna’s love for you is pure.
He desired you more than Rama did.
You would have lived more vividly
Had you met Ravna first and married.
Instead, you were at loss to earn a sin.
I pity you.
06.06.2002, pakd
[Based on the Hindu Epic
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Lord Is His Devotees' Slave
Whatever is a devotee's
caste, clan, family, or name,
Rama's love for him is the same.
Beggar and king
are one to him.
Say, of what caste could be
Brahma or Shiva?
Rama will never abide
in the egotistic man's heart
therefore his slave, Suradasa,
has abandoned pride.
Rama was born in the Raghu clan
Krishna found his home in Gokula.
Words fail to tell of
the Lord's love
universal, all-embracing;
Dhruva was a Kshatriya,
Prahlada a demon and Vidura the son of a maid:
yet the Lord gave them his supreme love,
Krishna washed the devotees' feet
at the Rajasuya.
The Lord is the slave
of his devotees
age after age.
The tongue can't relate
his countless deeds.
Says Suradasa, the Puranas and Vedas
are witness to these.
poem by Sant Surdas
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Rama
The Day That Kausalya Does Not See His Face
She is restless and sad so her heart does race
Every person speaking she thinks it is her son
She calls out His Name Rama Rama dear son!
She goes about her work her mind is on Rama
What a fate have I to be separated from Rama
Let no Mother suffer this and part with her son
What a sacrifice this is to have God as my son!
I am a Mother like any other who raised her son
I wished for Him the very best like a human son
Did not wish even for a human son to leave me
How can I bear this separation of Rama and me?
He is the best in the world for me and for you
Taking His Name they will have salvation true
I don't need anything in this world ever to gain
Rama dearest please show me your face again!
poem by Ashoka Harichandan
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Sri Rama Jayam
Evokes chanting of my 'RamRam'
Picking up Pavalamalli flowers at 6a.m
A good day ahead
My regular counts of SriRamajayam
After a hectic kitchen record at 9.30a.m
Inking out in words in a note book
And on a day of submission...
'Before pooja almirah supporting me a mat-seater
My concentration grips Rama better
Although bossing over my anger to fade out
As the maid keeps sweeping
Dust from the broom splattering
Without a divine heart for the sacred book
I say sorry to Rama
Chuck out myself of the room
To make coffee for the lady-broom
And give up not; I further continue with Rama
Sitting in the chair in the porch in silence
A while later hubby next glances
Brunch ready?
Rush to the dining table
Hubby relishes his pappads crumble
Hmm.. I say sorry to Rama
Back to pooja almirah
Sit up to pursue Rama
But oops, a phone call
Daughter! And hubby is hysterical
Me too driven towards grand-son's prattle
Forget myself and quite unaware
But soon conscience pricks
Work be soon finished for Rama's blessing looks
Should submit it to the Lord
I say sorry to Rama
Sit back to my writing
Lunch time past; Yet mind not skipping
Write and write on
Rama must be invisibly looking at me
My hope, Anjaneya recommends me
By 4p.m complete my work
March on to the temple
Hand over my book so humble
Pray with closed eyes
Finally blessed with ' prasadh' when awake.
But lo, the wrapper to shake
A piece of Ramajayam-paper...
I look at the Lord so puzzled
But He, smiling as He ever has stood
poem by Indira Renganathan
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My Sweet Lord
My sweet lord
Hm, my lord
Hm, my lord
I really want to see you
Really want to be with you
Really want to see you lord
But it takes so long, my lord
My sweet lord
Hm, my lord
Hm, my lord
I really want to know you
Really want to go with you
Really want to show you lord
That it wont take long, my lord (hallelujah)
My sweet lord (hallelujah)
Hm, my lord (hallelujah)
My sweet lord (hallelujah)
I really want to see you
Really want to see you
Really want to see you, lord
Really want to see you, lord
But it takes so long, my lord (hallelujah)
My sweet lord (hallelujah)
Hm, my lord (hallelujah)
My, my, my lord (hallelujah)
I really want to know you (hallelujah)
Really want to go with you (hallelujah)
Really want to show you lord (aaah)
That it wont take long, my lord (hallelujah)
Hmm (hallelujah)
My sweet lord (hallelujah)
My, my, lord (hallelujah)
Hm, my lord (hare krishna)
My, my, my lord (hare krishna)
Oh hm, my sweet lord (krishna, krishna)
Oh-uuh-uh (hare hare)
Now, I really want to see you (hare rama)
Really want to be with you (hare rama)
Really want to see you lord (aaah)
But it takes so long, my lord (hallelujah)
Hm, my lord (hallelujah)
My, my, my lord (hare krishna)
My sweet lord (hare krishna)
My sweet lord (krishna krishna)
My lord (hare hare)
Hm, hm (gurur brahma)
Hm, hm (gurur vishnu)
Hm, hm (gurur devo)
Hm, hm (maheshwara)
My sweet lord (gurur sakshaat)
My sweet lord (parabrahma)
My, my, my lord (tasmayi shree)
My, my, my, my lord (guruve namah)
My sweet lord (hare rama)
[fade:]
(hare krishna)
My sweet lord (hare krishna)
My sweet lord (krishna krishna)
My lord (hare hare)
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hare Rama
Soaked in the tears of this home
Memories grind me into my bittered life.
Earlier days were lively in full bloom.
But soon got into this rancid life.
I was not the home minister, but
In the production of babies and dishes.
Not considered to be a prestigious post.
Unprofessionally professional was my status.
Cutting vegetables for curries and sambar
Grinding black gram and rice for dosas
Ooh la la la, for everyone at home, other
Than me finding no day for my own wishes.
Age has put me on the altar today.
Children ask me about wasted talents why?
What shall i say? that i sacrificed?
Or have i been a coward?
Ere shaken my mortal, chanting Rama Rama
Shall be the best resort to replace the wasted.
So Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Hare Rama!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Hari Chrishna
People with light orange cloaks
comes pass in a jolly procession.
There are two hitting drums
and one sings over a loudspeaker horn
and I see a few
getting rattling noises out of cymbals
that makes the people
on the sidewalk stand still
while the small group of people
draws attention and pass.
It’s a shrill “hare krishna hare krishna
krishna krishna hare hare
hare rama hare rama
rama rama hare hare”
that goes right through you
and I wonder
what the strange words
are exactly saying
and I hear how the drums
keeps the earthly rhythm
and it’s like a street circus
that disappears in the distance
while they disappear behind buildings.
poem by Gert Strydom
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You May Have Obtained Nama
You may have obtained nama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!
Lord resides within you, but you couldn't discern him;
You wander aimlessly thinking him to be afar;
You calculate about the One beyond the calculations;
You limit the Illimitable
And in this state of twoness, you count your futile beads!
You may have obtained nama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!
You try to be Harijan without having Hari!
How can pangs of hunger subside by a bash of hollow words?
How can throes of separation subside by mere donning of ascetic clothes?
It is like the futile roaring of rainless clouds!
You may have obtainednama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!
You think you have become harijan by merely singing lord's praises,
You try to rival a swan, when your deeds are those of a crow!
The lord will indeed disregard you!
You may have obtainednama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is barren like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without groom!
Says Narsinh, only he is worth our obeisance,
Whose mind has dissolved into the formless;
In whom the delusion of the world of differences is shattered
And in whom the flame of renunciation is resplendent.
You may have obtained nama, but without Rama
Your title of Vaishnava is like a cradle in a childless home
Or a marriage procession without the groom!
poem by Narsinh Mehta
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From The Banks Of Ganga: V
I open my eyes
Non-light on the Ganga
Breaking into dawn
A la Kubja stood as if waiting
For me to open my eyes
Kabhie Krishna ko dekha?
Chalo meri saath!
Like a mute animal
I follow her into a chamber
Where a marble Krishna welcomed me
How long did I sit in His presence?
Hare Rama hare rama
Rama Rama Hare hare
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
My own chanting
Reverberating in my ears
There flowed Ganga
In bright sunlight…
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Sinners Prayer
(by lowell glenn and lowell fulson)
Lord have mercy, lord have mercy on me.
Lord have mercy, lord have mercy on me.
Well if Ive done somebody wrong, lord, have mercy if you please.
I used to have plenty of money, the finest clothes in town,
But bad luck and trouble overtaken me, bound to get me down.
Please have mercy, lord have mercy on me.
Well if Ive done somebody wrong, lord, have mercy if you please.
Keep on working now, child.
Lord every morning.
Well if Ive been a bad boy, baby, I declare Ill change my ways.
I dont want bad luck and trouble to follow me all my days.
Please have mercy, lord have mercy on me.
Well if Ive done somebody wrong, lord, have mercy if you please.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trinity Of Carnatic Music 1-St.Thyagaraja
You're lost in the ism of Rama
Leaving behind a mission of Rama
Whence a practice of euphony
Across the compass of tones
Treasuring a supernal bliss long trailed
You know the heft of the bliss?
As much as that of Rama
Ethereally coloured quantum
Your-way-caressed to melt
Into our souls abundantly scaled
Your realm of scales, mode of melodies
Credence of pristine musical perseverence
Whole spirit alone with Rama
Ineffable elation of a doctrine for salvage
How am I to accost?
Guru? swamy, rishi, poet, writer, father?
You're the immortal, empyreal adept
Permeated and permeating intranssient
A cult of popularism for soul-liberation
How else be acclaimed than 'Nadabrahmam'
And 'Nadabrahmam' alone
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Bibhishan's Warning
Twenty warriors armed and girded in the Council Hall arose,
Thirsting for a war of vengeance, hurling challenge on the foes,
But Bibhishan deep in wisdom-Ravan's youngest brother he,-
Spake the word of solemn warning, for his eye could farthest see:
'Pardon, king and honoured elder, if Bibhishan lifts his voice
'Gainst the wishes of the warriors and the monarch's fatal choice,
Firm in faith and strong in forces Rama comes with conqu'ring might,
Vain against a righteous warrior would unrighteous Ravan fight!
Think him not a common Vanar who transpassed the ocean wave,
Wrecked thy city tower and temple and a sign and warning gave,
Think him not a common hermit who Ayodhya ruled of yore,
Crossing India's streams and mountains, thunders now on Lanka's shore!
What dark deed of crime or folly hath the righteous Rama done,
That you stole his faithful consort unprotected and alone,
What offence or nameless insult hath the saintly Sita given,
She who chained in Lanka's prison pleads in piteous tear to Heaven?
Take my counsel, king and elder, Sita to her lord restore,
Wipe this deed of wrong and outrage, Rama's righteous grace implore,
Take my counsel, Raksha monarch, vain against him is thy might,
Doubly arméd is the hero,-he who battles for the right!
Render Sita to her Rama ere with vengeance swift and dire,
He despoils our peopled Lanka with his bow and brand and fire,
Render wife unto her husband ere in battle's dread array,
Rama swoops upon thy empire like a falcon on its prey,
Render to the lord his consort ere with blood of Rakshas slain,
Rama soaks the land of Lanka to the margin of the main!
Listen to my friendly counsel,-though it be I stand alone,-
Faithful friend but fiery foeman is this Dasa-ratha's son,
Listen to my voice of warning,-Rama's shafts are true and keen,
Flaming like the with'ring sunbeams on the summer's parchéd green,
Listen to my soft entreaty,-righteousness becomes the brave,
Cherish peace and cherish virtue and thy sons and daughters save!'
Love is barren with out memento
Many a script,
Many a gift,
Did I present to you.
You paid me nil.
Acceptance by you,
A forbidden soul,
Itself is the token
Of remittance.
However, I want
From you a memento
To show to others
Your love for me,
Without which
What is love worth?
Give me your fallen hair.
Give me your bitten nail.
Bharata was proud of
Rama’s love by his sandals.
21.04.2002, Pakd
In the epic The Ramayana, Bharata brought the sandals of his brother, Rama, to keep them as the ruler the kingdom in the place of Rama, who, denouncing the throne, went to the exile.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mercy, Mercy Me
Woo ah, mercy mercy me
Ah things ain't what they used to be, no no
Where did all the blue skies go?
Poison is the wind that blows from the north and south and east
Woo mercy, mercy me, mercy father
Ah things ain't what they used to be, no no
Oil wasted on the ocean and upon our seas, fish full of mercury
Ah oh mercy, mercy me
Ah things ain't what they used to be, no no
Radiation under ground and in the sky
Animals and birds who live nearby are dying
Oh mercy, mercy me
Ah things ain't what they used to be
What about this overcrowded land
How much more abuse from man can she stand?
Oh, na na...
My sweet Lord... No
My Lord... My sweet Lord
song performed by by Michael Mcdonald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wicked man cries, triolet
Wicked man cries ˜ Mercy My Lord! '
He is being taken, to court of God.
Indulged in sin, always did fraud
Wicked man cries ˜Mercy My Lord! '
He did not do any, work of kindness
Shirked from doing, things righteousness
Wicked man cries ˜Mercy My Lord! '
He is being taken, to court of God.
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Live Too Fast Blues/mercy Sweet Moan
Written by: r. robinson & c. robinson
Well I dream of a lady
Like an angel comes to me
And she cools me with water
Cause Im scared of the heat
But when Im gone lord have mercy on me
When Im gone lord have mercy on me
Well I once held my promise
In the palm of my hand
And the twelve unopened letters
I should rest baby when I can ?
When Im gone lord have mercy on me
When Im gone lord have mercy, baby on me
Yeah when Im gone lord have mercy on me
Yeah when Im gone lord have mercy, oh, on me
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Supplication To Rama
In the panoptic yard of my heart's aroma
Deep seated Thee o' Rama
Coronated and with crowned Sita
Past afforested treads of Thy life's data
My heart is sanguine, sunny and unfilthy
As Thy pristine persona is hearty
Ploughing my thoughts a nitty-gritty
Thy bio of Thy Ikshvaku dynasty
All well known of Thou radiance
The hub of cosmos Thy resplendence
Thou wedlock to Sita by ritual relevence
Thou woodland days of perseverance
Also of Thou oceanic valorous conquest
Vanquishing Ravana of southmost
Retrieving Sita, a notable feat
Back to throne endlessly at Thou behest..
Well, safe back in providence
Thee shouldst essay, prove evidence
Unanswered for we by coiled aeons in silence
About Vali killed why in concealed indulgence
Also about Sita much why calumniated
Out of fire much even after was she unscathed
Again to be slandered and expelled
Pregnant with woes, sorrows this day Thee kidded
Thou human- incarnate shouldst answer
Appease Sita in my heart's chamber
About Vali too to me his murder
Before blocked my heart's door
Of Thou infame and dishonour
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Tart Tart
When he came out to the lock-up
He said Im looking for something better
He made his shock announcement
And backed off, backed down, backed off
And then he got up off the floor
He said Im wealthy enough, not to do this no more
And he made it all known with his hands held up, palm
Out
And she said dont know if I should
Cause I worry too much about the tests on the blood
And at first it was a yes, and then a no, then a
yes.
A maggot sleeps on her desk
H wears a sleeping bag as his vest
And hes getting too too bothered
About the spots on his chest, chest, chest
Now shes (blank)...she laid it on
And a few days later shes gone
So its back to the womb
To get drowned, drowned, drowned, drowned warm (? ? ? )
song performed by by Happy Mondays
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chappals
Missed was one out of the pair
And quite unaware was my husband
And I noticed and told him
As I am like Sita of Rama
Whose padukas are ever sacred and pristine
That Bharata even coronated them
That I could so sense the misfitted foot
That I could so sense its unholiness
Of today's youthful pairs
Mounted with dust and grime in sundry mounds
And one such somehow escaped
Possibly at a wedding function
To dirty my husband's one foot
But my chaste love got him a new pair
Which goes on emitting my shining love
Strong like Rama's padukas
Strong like Sita's imprinted feet
Wider- found stony in this country
That every heart is pleased about
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Mercy Street
For anne sexton
Looking down on empty streets, all she can see
Are the dreams all made solid
Are the dreams all made real
All of the buildings, all of those cars
Were once just a dream
In somebodys head
She pictures the broken glass, she pictures the steam
She pictures a soul
With no leak at the seam
Lets take the boat out
Wait until darkness
Lets take the boat out
Wait until darkness comes
Nowhere in the corridors of pale green and grey
Nowhere in the suburbs
In the cold light of day
There in the midst of it so alive and alone
Words support like bone
Dreaming of mercy st.
Wear your inside out
Dreaming of mercy
In your daddy(s arms again
Dreaming of mercy st.
swear they moved that sign
Dreaming of mercy
In your daddys arms
Pulling out the papers from the drawers that slide smooth
Tugging at the darkness, word upon word
Confessing all the secret things in the warm velvet box
To the priest-hes the doctor
He can handle the shocks
Dreaming of the tenderness-the tremble in the hips
Of kissing marys lips
Dreaming of mercy st.
Wear your insides out
Dreaming of mercy
In your daddys arms again
Dreaming of mercy st.
swear they moved that sign
Looking for mercy
In your daddys arms
Mercy, mercy, looking for mercy
Mercy, mercy, looking for mercy
Anne, with her father is out in the boat
Riding the water
Riding the waves on the sea
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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