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ramayantika · 11 months

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Krishna (mystery academia)

I was inspired from that old Vishnu post and that Delhi vala post so here we go. No idea how this will turn up though par dekhte hain.

No, it can't be a dream. You have pinched yourself twice, and your sister has been calling your name out from the past five minutes, but you can't help yourself. Your eyes are transfixed at that giant grey cloud hovering majestically in the sky. A face is etched on the cloud. He looks enchanting.

Your books have fallen on the floor. A mysterious flute tune rings in your ear. You haven't heard it anywhere recently, but the melodious tune starts to grow too loud. Look carefully, who is the girl in a pink saree, her golden bangles blind your vision and you hear a boy's sweet laughter before your legs give out.

It's Janmashtami night. The clock struck 12 and kids from your society broke the pot. They jump around in getting some money from the dahi handi while the adults clap and call their kids to come home. Everybody chants jai shri krishna and bows down folding their hands. You too close your eyes. Once you raise your head to look at the Krishna murti, your eyes see a person standing behind the murti, twirling a flute with his nimble fingers. Someone snaps their fingers beside your ear. The figure vanishes.

'yada yada hi dharmasya glanir bhavati bharata abhyutthanam adharmasya tadatmanam srijamyaham' Goosebumps rise on your skin and a divine vision graces your being. The sun and the stars collide, but everybody keeps breathing. The sound of a conch fills your mind and you see someone larger than any human, than any other organism on earth stand in a battlefield. He looks fierce once and then in a blink turns as calm as a river.

'paritranaya sadhunam vinashayacha dushkritam dharma sansthapanarthaya sambhavami yuge yuge' Tears flood down your eyes as you wake up from yet another dream of this all pervading misery encircling the world that has given itself to crimes and murders, forgetting that the quest for lust, greed, pride and ruthless power has gone in vain. Once again you stand on a battlefield witnessing hundreds and thousand of mighty warriors flanked by their elephants and horses. On your side stands one man. Just one man -- wielding a chakra and a large mace. He charges off at every soldier. In seconds bodies pile up on the battlefield and a guttural cry pierces your ears. The lone warrior clutches every fallen body and weeps.

The sweet smelling fragrant chandan makes you smile. The old temple priest, a gentle soul patiently applies tilak to all the devotees. After ten people comes your turn to apply the tilak. The priest's eyes brighten as if he has known you since long. You don't know him. This Krishna temple is far away from your home. The priest looks back at the beautifully decorated Krishna murti and smiles. You blink and turn your eyes to a pillar beside the garbhagriha. There stands a boy too gorgeous to be real, a form so enchanting that it etches itself on your eyes. You feel your heart thumping as the fragrant chandan clouds your senses. You are about to fall, but that lovely looking boy catches you in his arms. Flowers fall on your head and a sweet voice whispers, "Will you finally come back, sakhi?"

The night sky is full of stars tonight which is highly unusual for this busy city. Two stars gleam the brightest. You try to figure which constellation they belong too until hundreds of stars come together forming an image of a peacock feather.

At Prem Mandir in Vrindavan, you eagerly watch all the moving sculptures showing different pastimes of Krishna. Somewhere nearby, a group of ladies are singing Meerabai's songs. Your feet tap on their own accord and you feel yourself sway. When did you raise your arms to the sky and twirl? Nobody knows. Your family watches you laugh and dance in the temple. You look at no one but Krishna. The handsome boy from the temple is back again wearing bright yellow clothes -- not too hard to miss. A rough shake on your shoulders makes you open your eyes. The devotees in the temple are staring at you, but you blush in awareness of a certain dark one looking at you.

You sit gazing at the cool waters of Yamuna, the river which played an important role in Krishna's life. She saw his arrival into Gokul and his departure to Mathura. The texts and the old say that she later accompanied him as his wife to Dwaraka. You bow your head at her and dip your feet into the water. Nobody is at the ghat, it's all quiet and peaceful. Yamuna cools your body and a sense of calmness pervades your mind. You feel yourself slipping somewhere. The river like a gentle mother's touch touches your skin. "Do not fear, friend."

The car is about to cross the borders of Vrindavana. You feel your heart cry for an unknown separation. All these nights, you heard female voices whispering, "do not leave." At dawn you woke up with the sounds of a flute and sometimes your evenings were blessed with a boy gracing your hotel's terrace at sunset. He carried a peacock feather with him. You never shared a word with him nor did he with you. The steep silence yet felt comfortable.

Should I stay? Should I go? Should I call that boy and say goodbye, but how do I find him? What is this feeling in my heart? I feel it break into pieces. The driver caught your eye in the mirror and you hear a screeching break, The small flute replica hits the backside of the mirror and there you see a divine view once again.

Surrounded by cows, his feet crossed, he stands with a flute donning yellow garbs. You see the sun and the moon in his eyes. The universe gleams in his limbs. He appears magnificent. The divine sound of the conch rings again and you fall at his feet. 'I am all yours, Shyam.'

'Glad to have you back finally sakhi...' Red palms touch your forehead and the figure in front shines with bright white light like a halo around him. A lotus flower is placed on the last page of your book over Krishna's photo. The afternoon sky is now grey and far away you see a dark cloud emerging towards you.

"It shall start again, isn't it?"

Tagging the sakhis: @sanskari-kanya @shut-up-rabert @krishna-sahacharini @ketchup-jar-ka @arachneofthoughts @jessbeinme15 @ma-douce-souffrance @tumhari-bhairavi @manwalaage @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @reallythoughtfulwizard @bambioleo @morally-gayy @krishna-priyatama @kaal-naagin

#krishna #mystery academia #krishnablr #hindublr #desiblr #indian gods #desi aesthetic #samridhi writes

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janaknandini-singh999 · 7 months

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OH MY FRIEND GANESHA! TU REHNA SAATH HAMESHAAA

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bishh-kanya · 2 years

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𑁍Shailputri : Navratri Day 1

Daughter of the mountain 🏔️��

#navratri #day 1 #Shailputri #maa Shailputri #indian gods #indian goddess #hindu gods #hindu goddess #desi tag #desiblr #desi tumblr #desi culture #desi academia #indian academia #desi aesthetic #indian aesthetic #desi dark academia #indian mood board #desi mood board

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inc0rrectmyths · 1 year

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Had a funny thought.

The Big4, Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva and Indra once decided to have a rIcH fAm vIbEs party with their wives. So 8 ppl in total. And then Parvati is late. So everyone questions Shiva why his wife is late and just then she barges into the room with.... Durga, Kali, Tara, Matangi, Chhinamasta, Bhairavi, Bagalamukhi, Katyayani, Kushmanda, Shailaputri and 60 other avatars of hers and is just like hi :) I brought the girlies along :)

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qwerty-between-the-lines · 7 months

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I kind of threw together a headcanon about Nico and Will shadow traveling, and they accidentally land in a Indian-themed camp for heroes called Camp Dharmik.

Not sure yet if I'll publish it - or when...

#percy jackson #headcanon #text post #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #indian gods #devas #heroes #camp half blood #camp dharmik

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hypnothalamus · 9 months

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#lucian stanculescu #brahma #indian gods #illustration #art #digital art

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phdguides · 6 months

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May the grace of Maa Skandmata guide us on the path of righteousness and courage. 🌺

#navratri #day 1 #Shailputri #maa Shailputri #indian gods #indian goddess #hindu gods #hindu goddess #desi tag #desiblr #desi tumblr #desi culture #desi academia #indian academia #desi aesthetic #indian aesthetic #desi dark academia

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karnamybeloved · 2 years

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she's a 10 but she has a thing for mythological gods

#indian mythology #mahabharat #indian gods

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pleasantlysecretdream · 1 year

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My ask box is open to anybody interested in talking about or asking about Indian Mythology.

#tumblr #indian gods #indian mythology #vishnu #shiva #brahma #hindu gods #lakshmi #krishna #parvati #radharani #radhakrishna

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adi-25-blog · 1 year

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Why tulsi is not offered to shiva

The gods and goddesses of Indian culture are the subject of interesting tales and beliefs. The thirty-three crore deities in Hindu faith are listed in the ancient Puranas. The most important deities are thought to be Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva.

According to the Puranas, there was a demon named Jalandhar and his wife Vrinda, who was a renowned devotee of Lord Vishnu. She was a highly pious wife and adored her demon husband Jalandhar with all of her heart. The Devis and Devtas had a terrible time living in Jalandhar because of its brutality. The Devi-Devtas were unable to harm Jalandhar because of Vrinda's powerful prayers, which kept her husband safe.

The Devi-Devta turned to Lord Shiva for help when they were unable to kill the demon on their own. To defeat the demon Jalandhar and his wife Vrinda, Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu cleverly prepared a plan. By taking the appearance of Vrinda's husband Jalandhar, Lord Vishnu tricked his devoted follower. Vrinda bowed down to Lord Vishnu, thinking of him as her husband. Her virtuousness was shattered the instant she touched Lord Vishnu's feet. When Lord Shiva and Jalandhar engaged in battle, the purity of Vrinda was broken, and the force preserving him was destroyed. As a result, Lord Shiva killed Jalandhar the demon with ease.

When Vrinda realised she hadn't touched her husband's feet, she asked to Lord Vishnu to appear in his original form. After totally losing her virtue, Vrinda lost control of herself and cursed Lord Vishnu, who the Puranas refer to as Saligram, by turning him into stone. The demon Jalandhar's demise remedied the issue affecting all Devi-Devtas. Vrinda was granted a wish to reincarnate as Holy Basil. Vrinda refused to worship Shiva with any of her body parts because she was aware that Lord Shiva had killed her husband.

Because of this, Holy Basil or Tulsi leaves are not offered to Lord Shiva, yet they are offered to Lord Vishnu. for the puja to be considered complete for Lord Vishnu.

For more such interesting stories, do follow “ImAvatar”

#hindu mythology #lordshiva #lord vishnu #indian gods #hindusim #spirituality

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snowonthehill · 11 months

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Shiva

#indian gods #om namah shivay

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ramayantika · 11 months

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–✦– 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨, 𝙍𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙠𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙒𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣 –✦–

Usha Lakshmi Gargi Ratri Saraswati

Rati

(@krishna-sahacharini had figured it out 💖)

Amidst my box of pink, peach and nude shades of lipsticks, the bold red lip colour stands out. It appears as if it wants to mock me. 'You purchased me from Ladies Corner two months and I am still sitting in your box with an unbroken seal. Are you afraid of a colour?'

I have worn red sarees, red frocks and even red tops. I have red clips and rubber bands, heck even red sandals, but the prospect of applying red lipstick scares me. It makes me nervous. I have heard this boy tell me that you look gently and dainty in pink and peach shades like a fairy. The other day while coming back from college, I heard an aunty comment on a girl, saying, "God, did you see that bold red shade on her lips. It looks so improper. Girls should wear light shades that makes them look graceful."

But I remember applying the same red shade on my lips after borrowing her lipstick. She was reading a book then and I was trying out her lipstick. The colour suited me so well! For the first time, I got goosebumps when I saw my lips in red. It felt as empowering, liberating, bold as well as beautiful. My friend was observing my reaction and cheered, "You must wear red colour too you know. The shades you wear look pretty, but red has that charm which no other shade has." I blush and mutter a thank you. That evening I bought a red lipstick for myself.

Never wore it after I purchased it though. I always make excuses to myself. I carry a gentle, sweet, cotton candy persona so red isn't suitable.

Like always, I pick my light pink lipstick to retain my natural colour. I look at the black saree with golden borders carefully placed on the bed and then at my reflection in the mirror. Open tousled hair, black blouse, white petticoat and golden jhumke dangling down my ears. I bring the pink lipstick near my lips when suddenly the mirror turns black.

Gasping, I touch the mirror. I pinch myself to ensure if I am active or dreaming. The slight pain tells me I am actively experiencing this. My heart paces in panic. This feels like a scene from a horror movie and for a moment I brace myself to prepare for a ghostly attack when the black fades away only to reveal a lady dressed in dark red robes. Her outfit reminds me of sculptures of dancers, apsaras and goddesses from ancient Indian temples and paintings.

Her skin is as fair as milk. Well drawn arched eyebrows between which a red circular dot called bindu is carefully applied. Deep kohl highlights her beautiful pair of eyes. On her neck, I see a nuptial chain and a couple of jewelled necklaces reaching below her bosom. A thick strip of deep red cloth is tied around her chest. On her waist, I see a loosely tied waist chain and her hips sport a jingling hip belt. She wears a dhoti styled draped cloth which reaches till the knees to cover the lower half of the body. There was a specific name to it which I had read in a book. Sadly, I can't recall the name anymore.

I stare at her matchless beauty. She gracefully steps outside the mirror and stands behind me. Her thin fingers gently place themselves on my shoulders, and she whispers in my ear. "Did you recognize me?"

Stuttering, I try to form an answer. "Apsara Menaka?" She looks like a sculpture reborn alive from a temple after all!

The woman chuckles and taps my cheek with her index finger. "I am the Goddess of Love, my darling."

My lips part in shock. I gaze at the reflection of the woman beside me. "Rati...." I murmur.

"Absolutely correct! Thankfully, you remember me. Many women don't -- atleast not in today's generation."

Hundreds of question circle my mind regarding why is the Love goddess here in my room on a random Saturday afternoon when I am to leave for an outing in an hour.

"My my, did you forget about the lady in red from your visions? I am here for that only," I hear the goddess say.

She snaps her fingers and the lady in red appears on my mirror. Her face looks eerily similar to mine. I hear Devi Rati again. "Do not look away from the mirror until the lady in red disappears."

The woman looks mesmerizing. She doesn't have the perfect zero figure like models do. I see her belly rolls and love handles. There are a few stretch marks on the side of her waist where a thin chain lies. But God, the confidence on her face and eyes makes me shiver. Her eyes makes me want to get lost. This was the woman, I wanted to be and not someone who pinched at her love handles and looked up hundred ways of removing stretch marks from my hips and thighs while fretting over my slight double chin and non existent jawline.

Devi Rati speaks again. "Look at her, love. Her bold red dress stands for the feminine energy she carries within herself. Do not confuse her sensuality with lust. Her eyes are bright and playful. She needs no man no woman to tell her how gorgeous she looks or how modest she has to look. She saw you look at the 'flaws' of her form, but she is beyond flaws and perfections of the flesh. She knows the trivial nature of beauty. It only lasts until the age of youthfulness runs. But does that mean one should not appreciate beauty? Should one not wear good clothes and adorn themselves?

"They should and everyone has the right to feel good about themselves. Do not cover or hide yourself. If you love a colour, a dress or a jewel, wear it. If the world has to judge you, they would just do it for a minute and forget about you in the next minute." She picks the red lipstick from my box. "Your life is too short to be spent in worry if a boy or that old woman down the lane will call you bold for wearing a simple red shade."

She gently applies the lipstick on my lips. Her eyes meet mine and what she says next gives me goosebumps once again. "When they tell you to cover yourself on their narrowed understanding of modesty and culture, remind them about me, Rati, the goddess of Love and Beauty. Remind them of the goddesses and their sculptures from the same temples they love to visit. Remind them of apsaras and beautiful maidens who were clever, wise, knowledgeable and beautiful. Remind them of the same golden ancient culture that looked upon the female form, every female body as divine and everlasting."

The goddess makes me stand up and removes her hip belt and ties it around mine. "Do not let them dim your shine. This powerful red shade intimidates many. This power, this divinity and beauty is your reminder that we reside in you. Your body is a temple for the divine Shakti. You are the legacy of us Goddesses, queens and maidens who carried wisdom and power equally. Do not let them take away or make you hide this powerful radiance from your mind, heart, body and soul."

Rati snaps her fingers once again and the mirror shows my reflection. I am dressed in the same red saree, bold dark kohl lined eyes, red lipstick, jingling anklets and roses in my hair just like the lady in red from my dreams. She winks and says, "I not only make two people fall in love, my love. I also teach how to fall in love and admire oneself."

"Thank you, Rati..." My eyes well up with tears. It's not because I look so pretty. It's because for finally acknowledging my identity, my power and my connection with these divine women and Goddesses who have looked after me and every woman on earth. I promise myself that I shall let no one especially a man to take away my strength and pride for me, not when I carry the power of the Goddesses in my bones.

"Now now, i would hate to see that kajal drip down your eyes."

I laugh and wave at the goddess. Time to show the world sakhis!

******** ***** ****** ******** ****** ***********

Look, I am really excited for this. For a while before writing about Sarawati, I thought maybe I shouldn't write Rati because I was afraid if I would do justice to her.

But as every piece of art that I do is inspired and dedicated to the gods. Nothing of it is mine, somehow the Goddesses made me do it skskkanskakasmsmsmsks so here I am. Mein jaa rahi nahane ab :)

Tagging all of you because I want all of you to read this 🤧: @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @tumhari-bhairavi @sanskari-kanya @krishna-sahacharini @krishna-priyatama @mere-heera @morally-gayy @shut-up-rabert @arachneofthoughts @thegleamingmoon @flowerheadkiller @ketchup-jar-ka @kaal-naagin

#desiblr #hinduisim #goddesses #samridhi writes #indian gods #indian goddess #writings #devi

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janaknandini-singh999 · 8 months

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"I can't do that to swami!" Rukmini was appalled "What if he doesn't talk to me ever again?"

"Rukmini, love, your dear husband is literally the God of MISCHIEF. Why should he have all the fun? Ok fine, think of it as competition." Radha grinned

Rukmini stopped in her tracks and pursed her lips. She tended to forget that Shri Krishn once had a life before he had met her. She tended to forget this because for her, life had begun only after him. Those stories she'd heard of his leelas when she instantly fell for him, the mere thought of being close to him would kill all the miseries she was going through in the palace, the day her father decided on marrying her off, the stormy night. It was pouring outside but in her chamber her tears were raining and she was pouring all her heart out on the letter. The letter to him. And when she finally saw him, met his eyes, he was more beautiful than she had ever imagined, his hands taking hers into a new life. She smiled but was suddenly pulled back into reality as Radha's hand gently closed upon hers. Rukmini glanced up at Radha and sighed. There was something about Shri Krishn's Radha that Rukmini couldn't pinpoint. She'd admit that she had felt a pang of envy towards his other wives, his gopis. But never Radha. There was something so peculiarly enchanting about her which wouldn't let you feel anything negative towards her, or towards anyone in the world for that matter, when you were in her sharan. Just like how it was with her Shri Krishna. She always felt this comfort with Radha, a sakhi, a sister she never had. Her throat throbbed.

"Oh, Rukmini.." Radha hugged her before the tears could even come out of Rukmini's eyes, as if she knew. She just always knew. Everything.

"Was swami really that much...... mischievous?" Rukmini laughed in her arms

"Oh, you thank your devtas that you weren't a gopi in Vrindavan! Stealing maakhan and our clothes when we are BATHING! Hypnotizing us to make pakwaan for him, then bursting those very matki in which we carry them, getting us in trouble, then just smiling and dancing it away. That natkhat boy would've annoyed yet mesmerized you so, you would've completely lost your mind!"

Rukmini thought "only if Radha knew I would give anything to be a gopi, to be rendered senseless only to fall in his grace"

As if reading her mind, Radha whispered "but if you really look at it, maybe all who love kanha are just a gopi at heart."

Rukmini gasped amusedly and raised her eyebrows "Even Sudama ji?"

Radha nodded and giggled "even Sudama ji."

Rukmini stretched and lay her head in her sakhi's lap as her sakhi stroked Rukmini's hair and looked up at the sky

"So? What's the plan for our prank? Let's take a sweet revenge for all the sweet atrocities caused on the gopis by our beloved" Rukmini rolled over and winked at Radha who laughed so loud and hugged her tighter than ever

"Now, that's MY sakhi!"