Tag Archives: spirituality


Faith is the exhilaration of a kid thrown playfully in the air knowing he is safe.
Faith is the song of a lark that knows that the rising sun will dispel the dark.
Faith is the swagger in the dance of a peacock welcoming the rain.
Faith is believing what your eyes cannot see.
Faith is a knowing of a certainty that it is given to you even before you ask.
Faith is a gratitude in advance for its deliverance.
Faith is beyond hope.
Faith is not having to worry.
Faith is not believing in an alternate possibility.
Faith is pure love.
Faith is surrender but not cowardice.
Faith is a knowing beyond doubt that you will succeed.

Notes on the Lives of Dreams

Years tick away with

their incessant urgency,

days expire in a breath;

There is not world enough

to encompass all that

has been dreamt;

Unrequited dreams are

promises of a future

aborted in the womb;

I am left raging

with the fire

of a thousand unborn Suns.


Why do we need to lose innocence
to realize its value?
Why do we have to value relations
only after we bid adieu?

Why do we hate everything
that we don’t like?
Why is the opposite of like
is not respect but dislike?

Why do we make a virtue
out of our habits?
Why should heretics always be
looked upon as culprits?

Why do we seek comfort
in familiarity?
Why do we always loathe
any dissimilarity?

Why do we return an insult
twice as strong?
Why do we sometimes not even
return favours to where they belong?

Why should nine people lose
for one to win?
Why should the inner voice drown
in the outer din?

Why are breakups needed
to unfold a person’s real character?
Why should adversities separate
the real person from the actor?

Why is a king’s crown dearer
than a child’s doll?
Why should the worth of a person
be bound by a monetary wall?

Know that you are coming home

When dreaded loneliness starts becoming tranquil solitude,
when winning or losing cease to matter much,
when the outward focus of your eyes
resembles the tip of an iceberg,
when it starts getting easier to let go,
when the grip of life’s drama starts loosening,
when being socially normal feels like a sin,
when being natural and spontaneous feels right,
when you start seeing the unending fiction of your own thoughts,
know that the reverse journey has begun.

When normal friends start to wither away,
when coincidences start happening more frequently,
when you find your needs receding
and the need to be needed withdrawing,
when you notice your ‘love for self’ blooming,
when you find yourself celebrating uniqueness
and yet have nothing to compare,
when you often choose to slow down and ponder,
or just stop and wonder,
know that you have taken a U turn.

When judging people starts feeling alien to you,
when forgiveness starts coming easily to you,
when you start feeling the wind that caresses you
and become aware of the water that wets you,
when gratitude starts replacing grudges,
when stillness comes to you unbeckoned
but in acute awareness of the movement of life,
when joy visits you often for no reason,
when others find peace emanating from you,
know that you are coming home.

Rumi Visits Me Sometimes

Rumi visits me sometimes and whispers in my ears.
Gibran too bumps into me often and paints life through my eyes.
Tagore calls in at times and composes mystical symphony.
Tulsidas comes over to recite the greatest poetry ever told.

They all come randomly, and take me over.
They don’t knock but knock me over.
They mesmerize me and leave me gasping.
They show me the real me and leave me yearning.

I go there often now
And wait for them to come.
But now they don’t come to me,
they come through me.

When Man kills God

When all that matters is material excess.
When mammon and fame become parameters of success.
When mortal success is the only thing pertinent.
When eternal human values become wholly irrelevant.

When man finds excuses to divide and discriminate
through religion, caste, colour and race.
When the eternal commandment of “Follow My Path,”
is misconstrued as “Follow My Religion.”

When greatness of religion is sought in numbers,
proselytizing gives birth to communal embers.
When even charity ceases to be unconditional,
it becomes a tool for religious ambition.

When religious bigotry is rule of the day,
when fundamentalism is having its say,
misinterpretation of holy text ruins humanity,
as secular voices drown in communal frenzy.

When Christ becomes greater than Allah.
When Krishna becomes better than Rama.
In these comparisons – man mortalizes God.

When a man kills another in the name of God,
he kills, not man, but his own God.

The Chill of the Wind

The soul of this wind needs
No rainbow
But only desperation for a crushing blow.
He blows and blows and blows
Over the life
Of the seeds in the fruits,
And blows again
Over the purity
Of all the creeds.
Much more, he blows
Until everything around bleeds.

This wild wind needs to feed
His inner fire, which is a bloody furry
For a sunless time,
And fights an uphill battle
Against any existence.

His chills gather speed
While coming down from the hills.
He’s wild enough
To get the naked trees riled,

He has been blind
But never mild.
This wind has never been a child.

Love Cajoling at Vrindavan


Bank of Yamuna, spring eternally embellished.

Lover’s dais an adorned amulet frothing in love

Love notes playing on perfumed petals of lute.

Horizon blushed in hush seeing the charisma

Dusk with vermillion pride hanging on the west.


Moon savour Yamuna’s dancing waves of joy

Night stood metamorphosed like a dream.

Green wood tranquil, tamed leaves non fluttering

Humble breeze unfold magic mantra in hour’s spirit.

Heaven perched upon Vrindavan as a bough

And the habitants’ left in spell bound.


Vrindavan yielded to Lord Krishna’s fervid Leelas.

His footprints kiss sands and imprints sing keertan for him.

His pranks on Gopis, moments of supreme celebration

Such fiesta they foster as caprice and love to indulge more

Unconditional love of Gopis an undisputed renowned truth.


Radha , the true love and shadow of Krishna

Love stricken ethereal beauty of Vrindavan

Often hides her presence playfully in the bushes

To invite Krishna’s blissful apparitions to get lost

in his sudden embarrassing embrace of love.

She forgets self in those elated soulful moments.


When her soft fingers touch His peacock feather

There is rainbow harvest on the bluish sky.

When Krishna caress her tresses romantically

Her anklets and bangles giggles in ecstasy.

When Radha’s honeyed lips kiss His Murali

Shivarangini Raaga flows as Ganga everywhere.


Whole Vrindavan exhale their love saga

There is a melody in the mesmerising love.

Glory of Radha and Krishna touch the sky.

It chimes on the clouds and reach Devalog.


Away from all crowds, simple and divine lass Tulsi

Surrender in devotion as garland for Krishna

To remain on Krishna’s chest as Srivatsa forever!


© Maaya Dev 2015 Dec


Foot Notes

Vrindavan : A Hindu pilgrimage site, especially in referenced to Lord Krishna

Gopi _A sanskrit word meaning ‘cow-herd girl’. Having unconditional love for Lord krishna

Leelas – A sanskrit word which means play

Keertan – Devotional hymn

Devlog – Heaven

Murali – Flute which is Lord Krishna’s favourite instrument.

Tulsi : Basil leaf which is  considered as a sacred plant.

Srivatsa  –  It is a mark on the chest of Lord Vishnu where his consort Sri Lakshmi resides.

( Krishna is considered as the reincarnation of Lord Vishnu)

Frederick and Geraldine (Part 7)

Chiara, Arturo’s wife, approached them together with
Lucca and Francesca, the other Italian pair
Saying, ”Is Quare’s invention real? I think it is a myth.”
” His barometer measures the pressure of the air.”

Chiara wore a red big gown, with lace trimming the low,
A green velvet mantel, which was lined with some ermine,
Square neckline and sleeves, which were gathered at the elbow.
She spoke well Italian, Spanish, and German.

Italians wanted to disembark at Syracuse.
Bella and Miguel traveled to Barcelona home.
To find a new home, Naimah and his son had an excuse.
Out of their Turkey’s limit, through the storms, they would roam.

Tia, Athan, Megan, and Karsten would disembark
At Selanik, an Ottoman province, where Ahmed
The Third was reigning while his war was a fire in the dark.
They were Greeks being born during the reign of Mehmed.

Marco and Rosa, Cruz and Pedra, Pedro and Carla
Were Portuguese pairs coming home from America.
They had bought from the Pueblo Indians some ollas.
They gave one to the Russian pair, Ivan and Erica.

Ivan said, ”Tell me something about these Indians.”
Carla said, ”Their belief means dualism; they eat corn.
Some of them became Catholic due to the Spanish civilians.
They think they emerged from the underwater space to be born.”

Carla wore a black cap, having a veil, and a green gown
Patterned with acorns and flowers, and her sleeves were caught
With jeweled clasps on the lace at the elbow; her eyes were brown.
”The water is fresh in the ollas; I like their color a lot.”

She asked Ivan’’ Now, where do you go? ’’ ‘’We left the war.’’
”Ahmed and Peter the First! ” replied Cruz, ” tell me something,
How could you reach Constantinople after coming from a far ”
Zone? ””I do trade with them, but this war destroyed everything.”

”Did you lose everything you had? ” Marco asked Ivan.
”To make business in Turkey, I sold all my Russian goods.”
Erica tried this conversation to enliven,
”In Portugal, we’ll search for a job in cities and hoods.”

Marco wore a banyan with a patterned lining; his cuffs
Were embroidered in gold; his justacorps and stockings
Over his breeches were red like Rosa’s shoes and muffs.
All of them wore periwigs and talked a lot while walking.

(to be continued)

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Divine Sonnet 3

In praise of God I write this soulful verse
You are the only Truth that I do know,
You are my self’s divine healer and nurse
I follow your path wherever I go.
This joyous world of yours, where I live in,
I have a blissful journey,full of mirth.
Where your supreme-self lives, being unseen,
O Lord ! each day my soul enjoys on earth.
My body and mind with you I do unite,
And I forget my earthly life of pain.
I soar in the blue like a flying kite,
And being free, I feel on earth heaven.
When I shall go to your abode to meet ,
I surrender my soul to your Holy feet.