From Shadows to Scriptures: A Poetic Pilgrimage

Urmila: The chants still echo, the garlands bloom, The Sindoor fresh, not touched by gloom. Just yesterday, I was your bride— With stars in eyes and love inside. Today you stand with bow in hand, The forest calls, the royal command. You speak of Vanvas, of sacred trail... But my heart breaks, my limbs grow frail. Lakshmana: My Urmila, my light, my grace, I see the storm upon your face. But Prabhu Shri Ram, my guiding flame, Has been wronged, stripped of His name. He walks the woods, with Devi Sita near, And I must guard them, shed all fear. How could I rest in golden walls, While He bears pain and forest calls? I choose this path with heart and soul, To walk with Him—that is my goal. No force commands what love decrees— I go, because His sorrow grieves. Urmila: And what of me? This wedded bond? Of dreams we dreamt and life beyond? Is love so frail, so soon denied? Can I not walk right by your side? Let me serve Maa Sita, too, Let me share this exile with you. What joy remains in palace...

  I opened my eyes by Ganga’s side, A son of gods, where fate would ride. A Vasu once, now cast below, In mortal form, I came to grow. –(1) My mother whispered ancient hymns, And taught me laws through dusk and rims. A prince by blood, a sage by way, She left me in the light of day. –(2) My father’s eyes, once bright with pride, Dimmed by longing none could hide. He loved again — fair Satyavati, But bound by love, he turned from me. –(3) I saw his pain, I saw his plight, And swore away my birthright. A crown I dropped for love alone, My vow eternal, my heart a stone. –(4) No child I’d sire, no throne I'd seek, No joy of touch, no love to speak. The gods above rained flowers fair, For vows no man would ever dare. –(5) “Bhishma” they called me — terrible and true, A warrior's path I would pursue. And so I stood, the kingdom’s shield, With oath as sword, and heart concealed. –(6) I fought for peace, for right, for name, But kings and queens still pla...

In forest deep, where shadows creep, Lived Ratnakar, in silence steep. A man once feared on every trail, Who looted lives to no avail. --- (1) With trembling hands and hardened heart, He played the looter’s ruthless part. “For bread and kin,” he’d oft explain, “To feed my clan, I bear this stain.” --- (2) One day beneath the forest shade, A saintly soul, in saffron laid— It was Narada, calm and wise, With truth that pierced like arrowed skies. --- (3) “O Ratnakar,” the seer began, “Why spill the blood of fellow man?” He bowed and said with voice grown rough, “I do these deeds to earn enough.” --- (4) Narada smiled, but with a spark, “Will they, your kin, bear sins so dark?” The bandit paused, his soul now stirred, A question sharp—a sacred word. --- (5) He rushed to seek his family dear, His heart now filled with shame and fear. "Will you," he asked, "my sins embrace, That I may loot and still find grace?" --- (6) His parents sighed, hi...