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The power of a single glance
India has been known to be a land of sages and spirituality for eons. This impact is even felt today and this is evident from the following story narrated by an Iranian lady who requested us to keep her name anonymous. Her roots are in Iran, but born and brought up in California, United States.
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Q187: On Her Birthday?
Question 187: “In one sentence what would you like to tell Amma on Her coming Birthday?”
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At Your Holy Feet
A garland for you by the flowers of my thoughts, Each petal bears dews of my love. A smile from your eyes glitter my soul. Mother how can I thank you without tears. Let me pour down as offering at your feet. Oh ! If I could turn into milk that consecrates your feet, If
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A Beam (II)
A subtle scent envelops me. Then touch of a soft wind of grace, somewhere in vicinity a giggle. I listen to the soft footfall of my mother. Suddenly, I became a child, a tiny one. My toothless gum ventures a smile. Oh! I smell aroma of untainted love. I became an aged child of yester years.
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God s Descent
God e’er promised to shower light on all plants, Turing the tiny seeds into vast, enormous trees, Even to shed shadow during furious sunny days, For those scorching in bodily conscious torments. God e’er promised to feed all mouths when in hunger, Turning the flowers to delicious fruits, ‘tis no wonder, Filling the earth with
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Q186: Amma change?
Question 186: “What do you feel is the most significant change in you since meeting Amma?” Please make your answer brief and clear (maximum 5 or 6 lines).
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Something for everyone
With bruise n burns we arrive, stretching our hands in despair, Our eyes sore by wrong views and vision. Tongues twisted by distastes. What we hear is curse and swire. We utter words of fire and filth. But, mother by one compassionate hug, You consecrate us; melting each one, into a fine piece of your
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Amma, a living Upanishad
Long long ago, a friend had once remarked to me “Amma is a living Upanishad“. Yesterday, in Swamiji’s class on the Gita, He remarked “If the upanishads have legs and hands, that will be Amma”. I was struck by two statements of Amma that is uncannily the same as from the upanishads: Once when Amma
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A Fallen Feather
In Thy cosmic drama, Mother Stricken by the terrible arrows* From the wings ’d fallen a feather It’s Thy child, living like sparrows. In Thy cosmic delusion, Mother Whirl even the Great Gods It’s no miracle or wonder Thy child is a blown out feather. Vast universes, galaxies unnumbered Ushh … perish and Vanish like
