Srimadbhagvat Purana Poem by Dr. Navin Kumar Upadhyay

SRIMADBHAGVAT PURANA

Dr Navin Kumar Upadhyay






















The term 'Puran' more accurately 'Purana' refers to a vast genre of ancient Indian literature composed originally in Sanskrit. The Puranas are encyclopedic texts that encompass legends, myths, genealogies of gods, heroes, sages, cosmology, pilgrimage guides, philosophy, theology, rituals, ethics, medicine, astronomy, love stories, and more. They are traditionally attributed to the sage Vyasa as compilers and include 18 major Puranas (Mukhya Puranas) and 18 minor ones (Upa Puranas) .Puranas hold a significant place in Hindu religious and cultural tradition by weaving together diverse local beliefs and practices into a syncretic framework aligned with Vedic teachings, though they are considered Smritis rather than the core Vedic Shruti scriptures. Major Puranas often focus on principal deities such as Vishnu, Shiva, Brahma, and Devi, and include narratives that inspire devotion (bhakti) . These texts were likely composed and compiled from around the 3rd century CE with ongoing revisions and expansions for many centuries, reflecting both priestly and warrior traditions in their content.In sum, Puranas serve as cultural, theological, and mythological encyclopedias that shaped Hinduism extensively, integrating folklore, theology, and religious practice within a broad Indian spiritual and historical context.



The most important Puranas in Hinduism are primarily the eighteen Mahapuranas, but among these, certain ones hold greater significance based on devotional, theological, and cultural prominence. The Bhagavata Purana (Srimad Bhagavatam) is regarded as the most revered and popular Purana, especially for its detailed and devotional narratives centered around Lord Krishna and Vaishnavism. The Vishnu Purana is another highly significant text praised for its theological depth and depiction of Lord Vishnu as the Supreme deity.Other important Puranas include: Shiva Purana and Linga Purana, which focus on Lord Shiva and hold major importance for Shaivite traditions.Devi Bhagavata Purana, significant for Shakta worship centered on the Divine Mother (Devi) .Skanda Purana, the largest Purana, which includes extensive stories on Shiva, Vishnu, and other deities.In summary, the Bhagavata Purana, Vishnu Purana, Shiva Purana, Linga Purana, and Devi Bhagavata Purana are some of the most important among the Puranas due to their theological focus and widespread veneration across different Hindu sects.
The Srimad Bhagavatam, also known as the Bhagavata Purana, consists of 12 cantos (also called books or skandhas) . These 12 cantos contain a total of 335 chapters and about 18,000 verses. The cantos collectively cover various stories, philosophical teachings, and divine pastimes, with the tenth canto being the most famous for detailing the life and exploits of Lord Krishna.







In ancient woods where sages dwell,
By Naimisharanya's sacred well,
The wise assembled, hearts aflame,
To hear the tales of Krishna's name.

O Vyasadeva, grand seer bold,
Recites the tales from ages old,
The source of all, both time and space,
The Lord of mercy, Krishna's grace.

The sages plead with earnest voice,
To hear of God and divine choice,
The universe, its birth and end,
On this truth all must depend.

From the primal cause, creation sprang,
With a cosmic order, nature sang,
The cycles are vast of birth and death,
Yet Krishna's love defies all breath.

The Lord appears in varied form,
Through ages' storms and tempests warm,
Incarnations by divine decree,
Reveal the truth of unity.

In darkest time, in Kali's age,
When morals fall from virtue's stage,
The Lord descends, to save the soul,
Complete, supreme, to make us whole.

Hear now the glories, wondrous deeds,
The lord who meets all heartfelt needs,
His lotus feet, the gentle balm,
That grants the mind eternal calm.

O listen closely, ye seekers true,
To Krishna's tales both old and new.
The first step in sacred lore,
A path of light forevermore.



Upon the sacred forest's side, where sages meet with humble pride,
The learned souls in circles wide, their eager minds and hearts allied.


To hear the tales divine unfold,
the ancient stories, great and bold,
Of Krishna's pastimes, love untold, and cosmic secrets to be told.

The mighty Vyasa took his place, a seer of vast and boundless grace,
To sing of God in every space, creation's dance and time's embrace.


He told of how the world began, from formless void by God's great plan,
From bliss eternal, the first man,
the source beyond all mortal span.

Eternal time, the endless sea,
from which all being flows free,
The primal cause of you and me, the root of all eternity.


In ages dark and ages bright,
the Lord appears in perfect light,
To save the soul and set things right,
with power endless, pure and white.

The sages asked of cosmic birth, how life was given upon this earth,
Of nature's force and endless worth, the cycle of decay and mirth.


Vyasa spoke of guna three,
the traits in all we choose to be,
From sattva pure to fierce rajas' spree, to tamas thick like shadowed sea.

From Brahma's mind the worlds expand, all elements by his command,
And countless creatures fill the land, all parts of one divine grand band.


The sacred sound Om's rhythmic beat,
in every heart and every street,
A cosmic mantra pure and sweet, the Lord's own name so sure to greet.

Then Vyasa's voice took higher flight,
recounting men of holy light,
The dynasties of ancient might, and gods who keep the law of right.


The first to know the sacred law,
the sages, whose unshakable awe,
Uplifted all through Dharma's draw, the righteous path without a flaw.

Yet time would roll, and darkness fall, as humans slip from sacred call,
The age of Kali's grasp would maul, the hearts of those both great and small.


In that dark time, the Lord again, takes form in flesh to aid all men,
His mercy wide, devoid of stain, the final hope for souls in pain.

The sages thus received the word, and understood in soul's accord,
Through stories told and songs preferred,
they worshipped Him, their spirit stirred.

With faith renewed and hearts alight,
they praised the Lord with pure delight,
Resolved to tread the path of right, till darkness turns to morning bright.

So let us too, with spirits high, embrace these tales that never die,
Of Krishna's birth and heavens nigh, whose name alone can pacify.


The first canto's sacred lore,
a gateway to Bhakti's core,
Invites us to explore much more, the Lord's eternal cosmic store.

For in that chant, that holy song,
the pilgrim's journey moves along,
From mortal coil to realms so strong, where souls in God's bright light belong.


O hear the ancient seer's call, the Bhagavatam's shining hall,
Where God's own glories fill the all, united, one, beyond the thrill.


In cosmic realms where truth does glow,
The sage wise Brahma sought to know,
The Lord supreme, the highest goal,
Whose cosmic form outshines the whole.

Within his heart an eight-inch space,
Resides the Lord of boundless grace,
Four arms he bears with lotus fair,
A wheel, conch, and mace declare.

His eyes like lotuses that shine,
His garments are saffron, pure divine,
His smile was so vast, his face so bright,
The source of day and endless light.

Brahma beheld this wondrous sight,
The cosmic Lord in holy might,
Whose body vast beyond compare,
Holds worlds and all life's varied fare.

Upon His form the mountains stand,
The oceans stretch at His command,
The rivers flow along His veins,
And fragrant trees adorn like plains.

His breath creates the endless air,
The passing Time moves everywhere,
His arms deploy the gods' array,
While lotus feet all fear allay.

From His own form the cosmos springs,
The source of all created things,
Yet He transcends this vast display,
Unborn, beyond the night and day.

Illusion's veil the Lord controls,
Maya's dance that traps lost souls,
Its modes of darkness, passion, light,
Entangle beings in their plight.

But Brahma bent with humble vow,
To meditate and learn just how,
From this great form the worlds arise,
And the truth behind the veiling lies.

He undertook a thousand-year,
A deep penance, with sincere faith,
To realize the Lord is so sweet,
Whose lotus seat none can defeat.

Pleased with his penance pure and deep,
The Lord revealed His cosmic keep,
Vaikuntha's realm of endless bliss,
Where souls enjoy unending kiss.

No time, no fear, no sorrow's weight,
All dwell with God beyond the gate,
Blue-hued, with eyes like lotus flowers,
Garlanded in sacred bowers.

Within His realm the energies,
Of nature's modes and majesties,
Obey His will and dance in time,
In rhythm with His grand design.

The Lord explained creation's tale,
The source of every earthly vale,
That Brahma's power, though vast and true,
Flows from the Lord who forms anew.

All karma, birth, and death's array,
Depend upon His boundless sway,
And knowledge springs from the sacred vow,
To serve Him humbly here and now.

The cosmic sound, the primal song,
Within all hearts have dwelled so long,
'Hare Krishna' calls the soul to rise,
Towards the Lord beyond the skies.

Thus Brahma learned the sacred art,
Of serving God with a humble heart,
For penance leads to wisdom's flame,
And frees the soul from pain and blame.

O seeker, hear this truth revealed,
The Lord's own presence is concealed,
Within and yet beyond all space,
The cosmic form, the saving grace.







In the quiet shade of an ancient grove,
a king, burdened with the weight of his fate,
sits still—his time counted like the beats of a fading drum.
Parikshit, crowned yet humbled,
eyes steady on the horizon where life and death converse.

Then comes Shukadeva,
an ocean of silence and endless knowing,
bearing not swords or shields,
but the living word—a cascade of stories,
of Krishna's play and cosmic dance.

No judgment in his gaze, only compassion—
the balm for a heart tight with fear and regret.
A dialogue begins without haste,
not of power or glory, but of eternal truths—
of the self beyond flesh, the soul beyond form.

Parikshit listens,
each verse a thread unraveling the illusion,
showing the path from bondage to freedom,
not in distant heavens,
but alive in the breath, the moment, the heart.
Shukadeva speaks of worlds born from divine breath,
of gods and sages, of love's ultimate embrace,
of liberation found in surrender—not defeat,
but victory over the transient self.

The king's questions,
raw and searching,
cut through the veils of maya,
seeking the eternal spark
hidden beneath mortal skin.In turns,
Shukadeva weaves the sacred narrative,
a melody that transcends time—
from cosmic origins to the tender steppes of Vrindavana,
where Krishna's smile ignites the dark.

And Parikshit, once ruler of a kingdom,
now reigns supreme in the realm of knowing—
with each word a step closer
to the boundless freedom of the soul.

Here, in their meeting,
life's final lesson unfolds—not in fear,
but in awakening—
the story of death transformed into the story of life.



The cosmos breathes with tales untold,
Beyond the veil of time's cold hold.
The third canto unfolds its sacred art,
Where divine pastimes meet the heart.

Vidura questions, voice serene,
In storms of doubt and moments keen,
Seeking truths in sorrow's wake,
The fate of kings, the paths we take.

Maitreya comes, the sage of light,
To share the cosmic dance and fight,
Of gods and demons, fate entwined,
In stories vast, by time confined.

Creation's chords now play anew,
From atoms small to skies so blue,
The boar's fierce roar, the demon's fall,
The Lord steps forth to save us all.

Hiranyaksha, the demon strong,
In darkened seas did stretch so long,
But cosmic Vishnu, in boar's form,
Split his paths through thunderstorm.

The earth was saved from watery grave,
From chaos deep, the Lord would save,
To keep the dharma, law divine,
In swirling depths, a sacred sign.

The saga shifts to ancient days,
Where sages chant and spirits praise,
Kardama muni's life sublime,
A tale where love transcends all time.

Devahuti, with heart so pure,
Renounces pain through faith's sure cure,
Her son Kapila, wisdom's seed,
Teaches souls to break earth's creed.

Entwined with truths of birth and death,
The soul inhales eternal breath,
Material guise now cast aside,
In spirit's light, we must abide.

Fragrance of devotion's bloom,
Dispels the darkest, deepest gloom.
The dance of world and cosmos' song,
In every heart where lovers throng.

The battles rage, but victory's sweet,
In surrender, souls complete.
The Lord's own pastimes forever speak,
Of refuge found for hearts that seek.

One chapter folds into the next,
Where wisdom flows and myths are text,
From glorious skies to earth's embrace,
The cosmos shows its shifting face.

In every atom, every star,
The Supreme dwells both near and far.
Not bound by time, nor held by space,
Transcending mortal run and race.

Vyasa's words, a river wide,
That flows beyond the shifting tide,
To cleanse, to teach, to guide the soul,
Towards the zenith, perfect whole.

The third canto is a bridge profound,
Where cosmic truths are wrapped in sound,
Devotion's light, philosophy,
In a dance of eternity.

So listen close, ye seekers' quest,
To tales that sew the cosmic vest.
Where demons fall and sages rise,
And souls embrace the boundless skies.

Let hearts perceive what eyes can't see,
The hidden self's sweet mystery.
Between creation's ebb and flow,
The eternal truths we come to know.


The fourth canto

In the vastness where time flows in endless streams,
Brahma, the creator, weaves worlds anew—
From cosmic seeds to blooming forms,
The dance of creation turns again and anew.

The Manus arise, guardians of ages,
Each presiding over a cosmic span,
Dividing the timeless into rhythm and form—
Their dynasties bloom like stars in the grand plan.


King Purāñjana rules with splendor and pride,
Lost in pleasures, his soul untied,
His queen burns with silent ire,
A mirror to desire's consuming fire.


The forest calls as Purāñjana hunts,
A journey strayed from rightful paths,
Temptations grasp and shadows collect,
Till fate and karma weave their hex.

The city trembles under Candavega's wrath,
Dark forces storm the righteous path,
Yet light emerges from the darkest night,
As destiny unfolds in cosmic sight.


The tale of Dhruva, child brave and pure,
Who sought the Lord with heart demure,
Denied by kin but guided by faith,
He reached the heavens, beyond death's wraith.


Narada, sage of celestial tune,
Appears to guide with his sweet rune,
Teaching that love, devotion, and grace,
Are the soul's true home, the sacred place.


From seed to tree, from breath to sky,
The cosmic order refuses to die,
Creation, preservation, dissolution's dance,
Eternal cycles of life's expanse.

Mystic practices, sages' prayers,
Worldly struggles and cosmic cares,
All dance within the cosmic song,


Where all beings equally belong.Brahma's world, the fourth order's rise,
Fills realms below and beyond the skies,
From human to demigod court,
Each plays a destined sacred part.

Sacrifices, penances, dharma's frame,
The balance held by law's own name,
Yet even kings must face the truth,
That mortal life is fleeting youth.

The canto closes, wisdom shines,
In every fate, the hand is divine,
The Lord sustains this endless song,
Through every birth and right and wrong.

O listen well, ye seekers of light,
The fourth canto gleams through the darkest night,
A tale of worlds and souls' embrace,
The eternal dance of time and space.



Fifth canto of Srimad Bhagavatam


Beneath the cosmic canopy wide,
Priyavrata rules the earthly tide,
A monarch born with righteous flame,
To shape the worlds within his name.

His kingdom vast, the lands expand,
The realms of earth and ocean's hand,
Yet even kings must bow and see,
The flow of fate and destiny.

The universe, a sacred weave,
With lokas high that souls receive,
From lowest pit to heaven's crest,
All play their parts within the quest.


Agnihotra, holy fire, he lights,
A beacon through the darkest nights,
Sacrifice in ritual's sway,
Guides spirits on the upward way.

The laws of dharma, strict and clear,
Define the paths both far and near,
Yet even kings must face the cost,
Of worldly pride and power lost.



Bharata, once supreme in might,
Succumbs to sorrow's endless night,
Born again in humble frame,
To learn life's truth, release from shame.

His suffering, a mirror bright,
Reflects the soul's inner fight,
To rise above material walls,
And answer cosmic duty's calls.

Through birth and death, through joy and pain,
The cycle turns again and again,
But deeper still the spirit yearns,
For that which never fades nor returns.

The fifth canto unfolds these themes,
Of royal pride and shattered dreams,
Of sacred fires and mindful prayers,
Of lessons learned through worldly cares.

Priyavrata's acts extend,
Creation's web without an end,
Life's impetus, fierce and bold,
In sacred sound and stories told.

The great sages counsel wise,
Unseen beneath the mortal skies,
Imparting truths to hearts that seek,
The light that words alone can't speak.

From galaxies to blade of grass,
All things obey the cosmic mass,
A rhythm set, eternal law,
That binds the flesh and spirit's core.

In every soul the fire burns,
A yearning that no time returns,
To find oneness with the Source supreme,
Beyond the veil, a timeless dream.

The fifth canto's sacred song,
Reveals where all souls truly belong,
Not in kingdoms built of clay,
But in love that never fades away.

So listen close with open heart,
To these ancient verses' art,
For in their depths the truth is found,
That lifts the soul from earthly ground.


sixth canto of Srimad Bhagavatam

In the vast fabric of existence,
where worlds unfold and destiny unwinds,
the Sixth Canto sings of protection,
of refuge found in divine embrace.

Ajāmila, a man once lost,
driven by lust and worldly binds,
descends into sin and sorrow,
his life is a dance with darkness' call.

Yet in final moments fractured by fear,
he utters a sacred name—
not with pure devotion,
no,
but a simple cry amid despair.

That name, that holy sound, reverberates,
stirring cosmic forces unseen,
sending messengers of the Lord,
His lotus-footed order carriers.

A battle ensues in realms beyond—
the agents of death confront the divine.
But mercifully are the Lord's allies,
and Ajāmila's fate is transformed.


Thus is unveiled the power sublime,
the holy name, a shelter sure,
capable to cleanse all stains of life,
to liberate the fallen soul.

The dance of karma twists and turns,
Yamaraja's judges weigh each deed,
but even cosmic laws must bow,
before the purifying name.

Sages impart sacred knowledge deep,
the lessons of dharma and devotion,
the duties of mankind unfolded clearly,
paths to harmony, love, and peace.

Not merely rituals or hollow rites,
but hearts fixed firm on Krishna's feet,
devotion pure, a boundless stream,
that leads beyond the cycle's seam.

The canto weaves tales of gods and men,
of prayers that open heaven's doors,
of cosmic battles, demons quelled,
and those who rise from worldly ills.

It speaks of Mother Earth's plea,
when forests burn and creatures weep,
reminding all of sacred ties,
to all life, the earth, the skies.

To cherish nature's vibrant breath,
to see the Lord in every form,
and through compassion's gentle sway,
align with truth, embrace the way.

Here too, the mind's threefold modes,
tamas, rajas, sattva dance,
govern souls and guide their paths,
yet grace transcends the cosmic trance.

The Lord remains beyond it all,
unchanging, infinite, serene,
within the heart of all that breathes,
the source and end of all that's seen.

So follow these ancient truths profound,
let sacred names resound and rise,
embrace the dance of love divine,
and find your place beyond the skies.




Seventh canto of Shrimadbhagavat

In the seventh canto's sacred scroll,
The science of God unfolds its soul.
Where cosmic truths and myths entwine,
And mortal boundaries define.

The tale begins with demon's might,
Hiranyakashipu, fierce in fight,
Who conquered worlds with ruthless hand,
And sought to rule all sky and land.

He spurned the gods with fearful scorn,
Declared himself unmoved, unborn,
No mortal, beast, nor weapon's strike,
Could dim his will, a blight alike.

But Prahlada, tender, pure of heart,
Declared the Lord the true counterpart,
Though son of one of darkest form,
His faith in Vishnu kept him warm.


Tyranny met devotion's fire,
Hiranyakashipu's rage grew dire.
Yet Prahlada stood serene and still,
His love for God an iron will.

The Lord appeared—Nrsimhadeva, fierce,
A form divine that terror pierce,
Half-man, half-lion, timeless might,
To vanquish dark and bring the light.

The demon's death, a cosmic law,
No breach of boons, no fatal flaw,
Protected souls from wrath's grim tide,
And lifted love to heaven's side.

Then the canto guides us through,
The social order, roles anew—
Four classes, each a sacred part,
Defined by nature, duty, heart.


From brahmanas, learned and wise,
To warriors strong and just in ties,
Merchants weaving worldly fate,
To servants humble at the gate.

Not by birth alone is worth,
But by conduct, deeds on earth,
And spiritual paths aligned,
By character and soul refined.

The perfect person walks the way,
Of truth and kindness every day,
Master of speech, in action pure,
His humble heart remains secure.

Family ties, the sacred thread,
Nurturing life where love is spread,
The balance held by duty's hand,
Within a peaceful household land.

Lessons turn to civil conduct,
Respect and care, and wise conduct,
Harmony in society's frame,
Whose light preserves the sacred flame.

The canto's stream then flows to praise,
Of devotees who walk the ways,
Of hearts surrendered, spirits bright,
Who dance in God's eternal light.

In every verse, a call to seek,
Beyond the mortal, frail, and weak,
To find the soul beyond the mask,
And joy within, the timeless task.

Thus shines the seventh canto's grace,
A beacon for the human race,
A guidebook to the soul's true art,
A holy map to lead the heart.


Lord Nrisimhadeva:


O fierce and gentle lion-man,
Protector fierce, the divine plan,
With thunderous nails and teeth of light,
You vanquish darkness in the night.

From stone pillar, sudden came,
To save the pure from death and shame,
Your roar shakes worlds, your gaze ablaze,
Destroying hate in burning haze.

O Lord Nrisimhadeva, hear,
Our humble prayers, dispel our fear,
O source of power, strength, and grace,
Beside Your lotus feet our place.

You guard the devotees who call,
To You alone when shadows fall,
Kindly remove our worldly ties,
And open wide our spirit's skies.

Your mercy flows in endless streams,
Washing away our fragile dreams,
With Your fierce love, our hearts you shield,
In You alone our fates are sealed.

Let ignorance now flee away,
Let fear not bind us night or day,
By Your fierce hand, grant us the light,
To walk in truth and pure delight.

O Nrisimha, ocean vast,
Whose blessings to the soul hold fast,
We bow in reverence deep and true,
Great Lion Lord, we worship You.

O fierce protector, Nrisimhadeva,
With nails like thunder, teeth like light,
You shatter darkness, break the chains,
And guard the faithful through the night.

From Garuda's stone you sprang to life,
Half-lion, half-man, divine and grand,
With radiant smile and blazing eyes,
You hold the universe in your hand.

Your mighty roar dispels all fear,
Your lotus feet, a sacred stream,
On which the soul may safely tread,
And wake from life's elusive dream.

In every breath Your mercy flows,
Unseen, yet felt in deepest heart,
Your claws defend the righteous path,
From evil powers that tear apart.

O ocean of compassion vast,
You swim amid Lakshmi's blooms,
The source of all material wealth,
And shelter in the darkest glooms.

May You protect my speech and thought,
My eyes, my nose, my very soul,
Sustain my steps along the path,
And make my broken spirit whole.

In You the yogis find their rest,
In You the demigods rejoice,
To worship You is highest grace,
To hear Your mighty lion's voice.

O Lord of forms both fierce and sweet,
Accept my chants, my humble praise,
Bestow Your blessings, shield my life,
And guide me through these earthly days.

Nrisimha, lion of the skies,
I bow before Your radiant face,
Grant me Your strength, Your fearless heart,
And fill my life with boundless grace.









Eighth canto of Srimad Bhagavatam

The churn begins, a mighty quest,
Oceans stirred, the gods and demons wrest,
Mandara mountain raised on serpent's back,
A cosmic dance, no step to lack.
From depths of waters dark and deep,
The nectar of immortality they seek to reap,
But poison too, from churning froths,
Threatens all with death's harsh clothes.
The gods appeal to Shiva's grace,
He drinks the poison, saves their race,
His throat turns blue, a sacred sight,
Protector strong, the cosmic light.
From ocean's womb emerges rare,
Kaustubha gem beyond compare,
Adorning Lord Vishnu's breast so bright,
A sign of power, endless might.
The parijata tree begins to rise,
Fragrant blooms in heavenly skies,
Its petals grant desires true,
Fulfill the heart, both old and new.
The sacred cow Kamadhenu comes,
Bestower of all earthly sums,
Her gifts flow wide, to feed and heal,
A symbol of nature's sacred zeal.
Gajendra, mighty elephant, caught,
By crocodile in river's plot,
His desperate calls ring through the air,
Devotion's power breaks despair.
Vishnu descends in martial form,
To rescue devotee from harm,
Gajendra freed by Lord's embrace,
Returns to realm of heavenly grace.
The truce is formed 'twixt gods and foes,
Peace restored where conflict rose,
Yet shadows lurk and fighting swells,
Until the Lord's plan breaks their spells.
The tale of Aditi's prayer meets,
The Lord's promise, mighty feats,
Vamana's steps across the land,
Defeating pride with a humble stand.
Bali's surrender, soul so brave,
His kingdom lost, yet spirits saved,
God's footprints mark the cosmic weave,
Where dharma and soul interleave.
Matsya, fish divine, swims the flood,
Preserving Vedas from the mud,
Cosmic order held in hand,
Protector of the sacred strand.
The eighth canto flows like streams,
A confluence of celestial dreams,
Where divine acts shape and guide,
And mortal hearts will abide.
From churning seas to sacrifices,
From courage shown to humble prizes,
This canto shines with lessons bright,
Of cosmic will, eternal light.
In every wave that stirs the sea,
Resides the Lord's vast mystery,
He acts to balance, save, and bless,
The worlds from chaos and distress.
So hear these tales with open ear,
Let love and wisdom draw you near,
The eighth canto's ancient call,
Invites the soul to rise and fall.
Within the cosmic endless flow,
The seeds of truth incessant grow,
A dance of time and space entwined,
The Lord's own heart in all confined.



Nectar story


Upon the cosmic ocean wide,
Where stars and galaxies collide,
The gods and demons, hand in hand,
Devised a plan to churn the land.
Mandara, mountain strong and tall,
They used to churn the milky sprawl,
Around its peak, the serpent king,
Vasuki, coiled—his hiss did ring.
The gods took hold the serpent's head,
The demons struggled with his tail instead,
Together pulling, pushing, churned—
The ocean vast in motion turned.
The mountain sank into the deep,
No rest beneath, the snake did weep,
Then Vishnu, tortoise form assumed,
Beneath the waves, the mountain groomed.
Mandara perched upon His back,
The churning gained its steady track,
The ocean stirred, the nectar sought,
With fervent hopes so dearly bought.
From depths emerged a venom dire,
Kālakūṭa poison rose like fire,
The gods recoiled in dread and fright,
It threatened all with deadly blight.
To Shiva cried the gods in fear,
Their champion, protector near,
He drank the poison, throat turned blue,
Saving worlds with grace so true.
Churning on, the ocean gave,
Precious gifts from deep to wave,
The wish-fulfilling cow did come,
Kamadhenu's bounty hums.
Next came the gem, Kaustubha bright,
A jewel pure, a wondrous light,
The goddess of wealth, Lakshmi's bloom,
Sprang forth with fragrance to perfume.
And then the nectar, the sacred prize,
The essence sought by watchful eyes,
Dhanvantari appeared with jar,
The elixir of gods from afar.
A struggle fierce then took its place,
Demons dashed to claim the grace,
But nectar's power is devotion's crown,
For gods alone wear an immortal gown.
Thus churning seas and cosmic dance,
Reveal the Lord's eternal glance,
Who steady holds the wheel of fate,
Protects His devotees, small and great.
O hear this tale of ocean's deep,
Where gods and demons vigil keep,
And know within this cosmic art,
Lies nectar sweet to fill the heart.


Samudra Manthana (Churning of the Ocean) legend


In ages past, when gods were pressed,
By demons fierce who would contest,
To gain the nectar's endless grace,
They joined as one, confusion faced.
The ocean vast, the milky deep,
Where cosmic secrets lay in sleep,
Became the stage for fate's great play,
Where darkness fought against the day.
Mandara mountain, mighty, grand,
Was taken from the solid land,
Placed steady on Vishnu's shell,
To churn the sea where lifetimes dwell.
The serpent king, Vasuki bright,
Coiled round the peak in endless fight,
The gods held at his head with care,
The demons pulled his tail and snare.
Together churned, in measured pace,
The endless cosmic ocean's grace,
Until the poison dark and vile,
Began to rise and make them quile.
The gods all trembled in their fear,
To Shiva then they did draw near,
He drank the poison, blue his throat,
Savior kind, the first devotee's note.
From churning depths, gifts did arise,
A horse whose speed could touch the skies,
The wish-fulfilling cow appeared,
And beautiful Apsaras cheered.
Kaustubha gem, the brightest light,
Adorned Vishnu's chest in sight,
The Parijata tree burst in bloom,
Filling heavens with fragrance's plume.
Lakshmi, goddess wealth and grace,
Stepped forth to take her rightful place,
Beside the Lord, her faithful lord,
Together as one, their love adored.
And then the great Dhanvantari,
Physician of divine decree,
Bearing nectar, life's sweet seed,
The gods rejoiced, their fate decreed.
But demons schemed to claim this prize,
Rahu disguised to catch the prize,
Before the nectar passed his throat,
Mohini's blade severed the goat.
Thus cosmic order was restored,
By mercy strong from the Lord adored,
The nectar's power, divine and bright,
Gave gods their glory, and endless light.
This sacred tale, a timeless theme,
Of unity, and power supreme,
Of battles fought and peace regained,
The cosmic churn forever framed.





The ninth canto of Srimad Bhagavatam


In realms where souls seek light afar,
The tale of liberation's star
Unfolds within this sacred song,
Where right and truth forever long.
Ambarisha Maharaja wise,
A king whose heart the brave advise,
Observed the vow of sacred fast,
His faith untouched, his will steadfast.
Within his vow, a story grew,
Of patience, power, and love true;
When sage Durvasa arrived one day,
The king awaited in humble sway.
A moment passed, the hour late,
Yet Ambarisha chose patient wait,
Refusing wrath or angry speech,
A lesson deep for all to reach.Durvasa,
caught in pride's harsh grip,
Let loose his curse on Ambarish's trip,
But power born of purest faith,
Protected king from dire wraith.
The devotee's shield, the Lord's own grace,
Saved him from curse's deadly trace,
A firebird swift, the Lord's own form,
Destroys the wrath with a righteous storm.
And thus the tale of faith and test,
Shows God protects the purest guest,
The devotee's path, both firm and bright,
Leads safely through life's darkest night.
Then Rama's glory, virtue's king,
Whose mighty deeds and praises ring,
Born to free the world's great thrall,
In forests dark where shadows fall.
Sita's love, and Lakshman's sword,
The bond that keeps the dharma broad,
Ravana's fall, evil's defeat,
The path of truth when foes retreat.
In Rama's reign, a golden age,
Justice ruled the mortal stage,
The servant king, whose humble heart,
Taught us how to play our part.
The canto's flow then turns to tales,
Of sons and sages bearing trails,
Yayati's sons, a vast array,
Dynasties' births in cycles' play.
Yayati's journey, souls' exchange,
Mortality's range, life's wide range,
Desire's bind, and heart's release,
The eternal quest for lasting peace.
The story of great Parasurama fierce,
Whose axe the tyrants brought to tears,
A warrior sage, the Lord's own form,
To cleanse the earth and keep it warm.
He rids the world of hardened pride,
And shows the sword can also guide,
The path to dharma, calm and true,
Where justice reigns and peace renews.
The canto sings of liberation's light,
Not found in power, wealth, or might,
But in devotion pure and deep,
That rouses souls from worldly sleep.
Through tales of kings and sages bright,
The scripture beams a guiding light,
Revealing paths that lead the soul,
To merge with Brahman, and become whole.
So let your heart with faith ascend,
On wings of love that never end,
For liberation's sacred door,
Awaits the soul that seeks no more.
In devotion's embrace reside,
With Krishna's grace as constant guide,
And in this canto's wisdom vast,
Find freedom pure that ever lasts.


King Ambarisha and sage Durvasa, Lord Rama, and Parasurama face

Lived Ambarisha, king of grace,
A soul devoted, spirit pure,
Whose love for Vishnu did endure.
A vow he took, a sacred fast,
To honor gods till journey passed,
With humble heart and steady mind,
In faith divine, his soul aligned.
The sage Durvasa, fierce and proud,
With quickened temper, thunder loud,
Arrived unbidden, sudden guest,
Upon the king's devoted quest.
The hour to break the fast had come,
But king waited till sage was done,
He tasted food to keep his vow,
Yet Durvasa's wrath began to grow.
Oft harsh in speech, the sage grew deep,
In anger's hold, he cursed to reap
An asura's birth to strike the king,
Unleashed by curse his fangs would sting.
But divine Sudarshana's wheel,
Emerging swift, its judgment real,
Destroyed the demon sent to harm,
And then pursued the sage alarm.
Durvasa ran with trembling heart,
Through forests dark and realms apart,
Seeking refuge from the wrath,
Of Vishnu's sacred, burning path.
To Brahma's realm he cried for aid,
To Shiva's mount, where gods have stayed,
Yet none could shield from karma's play,
Than king's forgiveness would allay.
In shame and fear the sage returned,
At Ambarisha's feet he yearned,
The king with kindness bowed and prayed,
For mercy on the penitent made.
The Sudarshana ceased its chase,
At king's pure heart and humble grace,
The sage forgiven, peace restored,
By godly love and faith adored.
Next tells the tale of Rama's land,
A prince with bow and noble hand,
Born to free the earth from plight,
A beacon shining purest light.
Sita, his queen, by virtue crowned,
In forest wood, where dangers wound,
Lakshman, brother with heart so true,
A trio bound by sacred glue.
Ravana came with ten-fold head,
To steal Sita and fill with dread,
But Rama's strength and righteous fight,
Restored the dharma's shining light.
The kingdom blessed by Rama's reign,
Saw justice flow like summer rain,
The warrior king, humble and wise,
Whose virtues lift the soul's rise.
Then from the past boomed a war's loud call,
When Parasurama, fierce to all,
A sage and warrior, wrath combined,
Cleansed the earth of tyrants blind.
His axe struck fear through wicked men,
Restoring justice once again,
Protector of the pious seed,
Whose mission born of cosmic need.
He walked the earth with boundless zeal,
Destroying pride where none would kneel,
Yet stayed devoted, calm and bright,
A soul who walked in dharma's light.
These tales entwined in sacred lore,
Show paths to faith and much much more,
That love and courage lead the way,
From darkness into a perfect day.
O hear these ancient stories blend,
Of kings and sages, journeys end,
Whose devotion, sacrifice,
Reveal the soul's eternal price.
The mighty wielders of the bow,
The peacemakers in shadow's throw,
They teach that strength and love align,
In dharma's path, by fate divine.
Ambarisha's patience, pure and true,
Shows mercy's strength through trials new,
Durvasa's wrath, by gentle heart,
Was tempered—turned to healing art.
Rama's reign, the golden age,
A story told from page to page,
And Parasurama's fearsome hand,
Restores the law across the land.
These legends shine, like stars above,
Inspire the heart, awaken love,
For God's own deeds on earth and sky,
Remind us all to live and try.
To walk in truth, with courage bright,
To seek the Lord through darkest night,
With faith and dharma as our guide,
In God's own grace we all abide.






In Ambarisha's heart, a flame burns bright,
Beyond the reach of curse or demon's bite,
Bhakti's armor, forged in love divine,
Turns wrath to dust, makes darkness shine.
No sage's rage, no asura's claw,
Can pierce the soul surrendered raw—
For Vishnu guards His own with grace,
A shield no power can displace.
Patience as Supreme Strength
While Durvasa stormed in fiery ire,
The king stood calm, no hate inspire,
A vow upheld through trial's fire,
Patience triumphs where anger tires.
Not sword nor throne, but waiting heart,
Wins battles fierce, plays wisdom's part—
In stillness deep, the spirit grows,
And mercy from endurance flows.
Divine Justice Beyond Human Law
Sudarshana spins, a wheel of light,
Chasing sage through endless night,
No boon evades the Lord's decree,
Justice flows pure, wild and free.
From Brahma's throne to Shiva's peak,
None halt the wheel that devotees seek—
Transcending boons, it rights the wrong,
In cosmic rhythm, ever strong.
Forgiveness, the Devotee's Crown
Durvasa falls at feet so low,
The king forgives his mortal foe,
No grudge held tight, no vengeance sought,
In mercy pure, true power wrought.
The wheel retreats at prayer sincere,
Proving love dissolves all fear—
Bhakti binds the Lord Himself,
In chains of grace, eternal wealth.
Dharma's Warrior Incarnate
Rama rises, bow of truth in hand,
Through forests dark, across the land,
Sita saved from Ravana's grasp,
Evil slain in dharma's clasp.
Not blind to wrong, yet just and kind,
The ideal king for humankind—
Justice tempered with compassion's art,
Restores the world, heals every heart.
Renunciation Amidst Royalty
Exile chosen, palace left behind,
Rama wanders, pure of mind,
Wealth and throne mean naught to him,
Only duty lights his hymn.
In simple cloth, with Lakshman's aid,
He conquers self, unafraid—
True kingship lies in spirit free,
Not crowns of gold, but soul's decree.
Wrath for Cosmic Balance
Parasurama, axe aloft and keen,
Cleanses earth of tyrants mean,
Twenty-one times the proud he slays,
Till virtue claims her righteous days.
Not personal hate, but dharma's call,
The warrior-sage destroys the fall—
Of pride that chokes the sacred stream,
Restoring order's holy dream.
Unity of Love and Valor
Three tales converge in sacred stream,
Devotion, patience, justice's gleam,
From humble king to avatar's might,
All point to one eternal light.
Bhakti conquers, dharma defends,
Forgiveness heals where anger ends,
In every heart the truth resides—
Surrender wins where ego hides.
Through curse and battle, vow and axe,
The soul finds freedom's golden tracks,
No might of man, no sage's fire,
Can quench devotion's pure desire.
These themes entwine like lotus stems,
Leading seekers to wisdom's gems—
Where love dissolves the self's cruel chain,
And God and soul unite again.


Devotion's Unbreakable Shield

Golden spires pierce the dawn-kissed sky,
Where Ambarisha's palace gleams on high,
Marble halls echo with Vedic chants,
Incense curls like serpents in sacred dance.
Lotus pools reflect the sun's first fire,
Mandara flowers bloom in sweet desire,
Peacocks strut on emerald emerald lawns,
While temple bells call faithful pawns.
The king kneels before the darkwood shrine,
Where Vishnu's form in sapphire shines,
Garlands fresh of jasmine white and pure,
Conch and disc and mace secure.
His crown of pearls cast humbly aside,
In saffron robes, his spirit's tide,
Anointed hands trace tulsi leaves,
As ghee lamps flicker, faith achieves.
From distant peaks, where storm clouds brood,
Descends Durvasa in wrathful mood,
His matted locks like thunder's mane,
Eyes like lightning, cutting pain.
Dust-cloaked feet tread palace stone,
Aura fierce, his power shown,
Sages tremble, courtiers flee,
The air grows thick with destiny.
Yet Ambarisha rises, calm as sea,
A smile like moonlight, soft and free,
'Welcome sage, break bread with me, '
His voice like honeyed Ganges flow.
The vow's last hour hangs like dew,
On blade of grass 'mid morning blue,
Ekadashi's sacred thread draws tight,
Between devotion's dawn and twilight.
No tremor shakes the monarch's frame,
No fear clouds eyes of steady flame,
For in his heart, the Lord resides,
Beyond all curse where anger hides.
Bhakti's armor, woven fine,
From years of japa, kirtan divine,
Turns sage's rage to fleeting storm,
While Vishnu's grace keeps faith warm.
No demon claw, no venom bite,
Can pierce this soul surrendered right,
For when the Lord claims His own,
All worldly fire turns to stone.
Thus opens wide devotion's gate,
Where humble hearts anticipate,
The shield unbreakable, the flame undying,
Ambarisha's faith forever trying.


The tenth canto of Srimad Bhagavatam

I.In cosmic realms where legends weave,
The birth of Krishna we conceive,
Devaki's sons in Kamsa's cruel sight,
One by one lost in fearful night.
But the eighth child, a promise bright,
Would end the tyrant's endless blight.
In prison dim, the Lord was born,
To bring the world a new bright dawn.
With whispered prayers and midwife's cheer,
The infant Krishna's cries sincere,
The cosmic soul in mortal frame,
To play divine His endless game.

II.Childhood Mischief and Divine Pranks

In Gokul's fields and forest deep,
The child Krishna laughed and leapt from sleep,
Stealing butter, teasing fair,
Gopis smiled at his playful dare.
The dances spun by moonlit nights,
Enchanting hearts with pure delights,
The flute's sweet call, a secret hymned,
Calling souls to love undimmed.
Kaliya's serpent, dark and vile,
Defeated by the boy's bright smile,
The lifting of the mountain peak,
A wondrous sign for souls to seek.

III. Vrindavana Pastimes

With friends and cows in forest shade,
The playful Lord in glories wade,
The Rasalila, dance of love,
Enthralling maidens, heavens above.
Devoted hearts and secret sighs,
Under Vrindavana's starry skies,
The gopis' prayers, the yearning call,
Bind Krishna's soul with theirs all.
A dance of joy, a sacred art,
Where soul and God do not part,
In each embrace and tender gaze,
Flows eternal love's mysterious blaze.

IV. The Call to Mathura
The tyrant Kamsa's fear grows wide,
Hearing fate's prophecy beside,
Krishna must destroy the night,
Restore to earth the holy light.
He travels forth with mighty arm,
To Mathura's city, dark with harm,
His victories over foes proclaimed,
Returning peace where terror reigned.
Jailing wrong, releasing the blessed,
His dharma quest shall not rest.

V. The Diplomatic and Warrior Lord
At courts and kings he moves with grace,
Solving conflict, brightening face,
Baladeva, brother strong,
By Krishna's side all ages long.
Diplomacy and war entwined,
Each task with mercy combined,
To lead the people on the path,
Of justice, love, beyond the wrath.

VI. The Final Retreat to Dwaraka
When foes conspire, the city falls,
Krishna builds protective walls,
Dwaraka shines, a fort divine,
Safe harbor from the mortal vine.
Here his devotees throng and sing,
Of lordship over everything,
Yet humble remains, a king who knows,
His reign a love that ever grows.

VII. The Philosophical Teachings
Beyond the deeds and cosmic fight,
Lie teachings, vast and spiritual light,
On dharma's call and soul's release,
From mortal pain to joyful peace.

VIII. The Eternal Message
The tenth canto's sacred lore,
Invites us all to seek and soar,
In Krishna's pastimes, find the key,
To bind with God eternally.






Krishna's childhood mischief and divine pranks

in Gokul's fields and forests,
capturing the vivid tales from the lore:
In Gokul's cradle, where Yamuna winds,
A playful boy with eyes that bind—
Krishna treads amidst the grass,
A divine mischief none surpass.
Blue-hued skin like monsoon skies,
Sparkling curls, a sweet surprise,
With laughter light that fills the air,
He steals the hearts who see him there.
Makhan chor—the butter thief,
From pots he climbs with childish grief,
With friends in tow, in naughty bands,
He breaks their lids with tiny hands.
The butter's scent, the sweetest treasure,
Melts on tongues with boundless pleasure,
Yashoda's warnings mild and clear,
Yet Krishna's grin brings closer cheer.
With sticky fingers, he denies,
Turning water strong with lies.
A roping trick, clever and sly,
The mother's laughter turns to sigh.
But mischief masks a deeper grace,
The soul's pure dance through time and space,
For in these acts, love's woven thread,
Draws souls to Krishna's lotus bed.
Apsaras sing and gopis rise,
At Krishna's call under moonlit skies,
The flute's sweet sound, a siren song,
That pulls the heart where it belongs.
Yet foes lurk near, with evil eyes,
Sent Demons clad as sweet disguise.
Putana came as nurse so kind,
To end the child, her plan maligned.
She fed the babe her poison breast,
Yet Krishna sucked and did his best—
To drain her power, kill her guise,
And show her death in her own eyes.
The demoness fell cold and still,
Her curse undone by infant's will.
Villagers gasp, the story told,
Of God in babe, so brave and bold.
Arishtasura, raging bull,
Destroyed the fields and scared the full,
Of cows and villagers alike,
Till Krishna might cut through the strike.
He danced above on nimble feet,
Crushing evil in defeat,
The demon fell, the homage paid,
To keep the village safe and swayed.
Then Kaliya, serpent fiend,
Poisoned waters, death convened,
The Yamuna's flow grew dark and deep,
The earth did mourn, the skies did weep.
Krishna leapt with joyous cheer,
Into the river's poisoned sphere,
He danced on scales and hissed around,
Till serpent's poison lost its sound.
Kaliya fled to distant lairs,
While Krishna's smile spread life's repairs.
The waters cleaned, the fish alive,
All praises to the Lord who'd arrive.
But beyond the pranks and battles won,
Lie lessons deep as rivers run,
Of love that binds the soul to God,
Through every smile, through every nod.
The Rasalila's sacred dance,
A heavenly, ecstatic trance,
Where souls unite beyond the veil,
And mortal bonds are set to sail.
The gopis' hearts, both pure and true,
Merged with Krishna's love anew,
Radiant stars in the night's embrace,
Their souls entwined in endless grace.
Even as a child with playful ways,
Krishna teaches through his days,
That innocence holds power vast,
And love's true bond forever lasts.
From butter stolen with a grin,
To demon's fall and serpent's spin,
Each tale whispers a sacred theme,
Of God who dwells within the dream.
So hear this song from ancient times,
Of Krishna's laughter, love, and rhymes,
And in his mischief find the spark,
To kindle light from darkest dark.




Krishna's Butter-Stealing Leelas
In Gokul's lanes where cows low soft at dawn,
Krishna creeps with twinkling eyes withdrawn,
Past sleeping guards and curd-clay pots hung high,
His tiny feet make shadows dance and fly.
With friends in tow—Samba, Madhu, their band,
They stack small stools like temple towers grand,
Giggling low, they climb with daring leap,
To raid the butter Mother gopis keep.
The earthen pot, suspended by strong rope,
Holds golden makhan, cream of sweetest hope,
Krishna's arm dives deep, a thief divine,
Scoops creamy handfuls that on fingers shine
Mine! For monkeys too! ' he laughs with glee,
Feeding forest friends beneath the tamala tree,
Butter smears his lotus cheeks aglow,
Pearl teeth flash white in mischief's overflow.
Yashoda spies from door, her heart aflutter,
'Thief! My Lala steals again! ' she mutters,
Rope in hand, she chases, scolding sweet,
While Krishna darts on nimble, laughing feet.
He hides behind the mortar, peeks with grin,
'Butter burned my hand, Ma! Cool within! '
His broken words, like flute notes soft and sly,
Melt mother's wrath beneath the morning sky.
Gopis gather, complaints in chorus ring,
'Your son raids homes, breaks pots with playful swing! '
Yet love outweighs their feigned dismay,
Krishna's charm steals hearts away.
One day the calf he mounts to reach his prize,
But beast bolts free—Krishna dangles, cries!
'Maa! Save me! ' his wail pierces tender night,
Yashoda lifts him, and holds her heart's delight.
No pot too high, no rope too taut withstands,
The butter thief who rules with buttered hands,
In every theft, a lesson pure and true—
Divine love steals to give its bliss to you.


Krishna's Encounters with Demons
Putana glides through twilight haze,
A witch disguised in beauty's blaze,
Poisoned breasts for infant death,
Kamsa's tool with poisoned breath.
She lifts the babe with treacherous smile,
Krishna latches, sucks with guile—
Not milk alone, but life-force drawn,
Till demon shrieks at the break of dawn.
Her form expands, colossal wings,
Crashes through groves where terror rings,
Villagers chant with fervent plea,
Yashoda guards her child so freely.
Trinavarta sweeps as whirlwind dire,
Whisks Krishna high through funeral pyre,
Cloud-demon clutches, strength gives way,
Falls crushed beneath the infant's play.
Sakatasura rolls as cart of doom,
Creeping death in Gokul's gloom,
Krishna kicks with tiny heel,
Shatters fiend, makes evil reel.
Bakasura strikes as monstrous crane,
Beak like sword through village lane,
Krishna tears the gullet wide,
Demon slain where cowherds bide.
Aghasura gapes as serpent vast,
Python tunnel, friends entrapped at last,
Krishna enters, grows within,
Expands till jaws burst from within.
Each demon falls to infant might,
Divine child turns darkness bright,
Kamsa's plots in ruin lie,
Krishna laughs beneath the sky.
Through every form of hate concealed,
The Lord's own pastimes are revealed—
Protection pure for souls who sing,
Makhan chor, eternal king.

Vrindavana Pastimes

In Vrindavana's emerald groves so deep,
Where Yamuna's waves in silver leap,
Krishna wanders with Balarama bold,
Herding calves on pastures gold.
Flute notes weave through kadamba trees,
Calling gopis from their chores with ease,
Rasalila 'neath the harvest moon,
Where love and grace in a circle swoon.
Gopis circle, anklets chime like rain,
Veils fly free in ecstatic strain,
Krishna multiplies, each heart He claims,
In divine dance that sets souls aflame.
Fruit-seller comes with baskets bright,
Krishna barters grains in morning light,
Empty palms return with jewels divine,
Her cart overflows—merchant's fortune shines.
Wasps pursue for honey's stolen sweet,
Krishna laughs and dances on their beat,
Calves astray, He finds with tender care,
Govardhana grazed where eagles dare.
Fruit from palms He plucks with stones so true,
Bael and amla rain like morning dew,
Hide-and-seek through thorn and forest glade,
Bridge of dreams on Yamuna's cascade.
Monkey voices, cow and bull He apes,
Ankle bells tinkle as the playscape shapes,
Rope and ball in childish games compete,
Vrindavana echoes joy replete
In every prank, a lover's call concealed,
Transcendental pastimes love revealed,
Where God as friend and cowherd plays,
Binding souls in Vrindavana's ways.

The Call to Mathura

From Vrindavana's emerald shade,
Where laughter and soft flute notes played,
Came whispered words of distant strife—
The call to end a tyrant's life.
Kamsa, fierce with jealous glare,
Ruled Mathura with ruthless care,
The mother's blood cried silent plea,
For Krishna's hand to set hearts free.
Akrura, loyal, steeds did rein,
Brought news across the yamuna's plain,
Come, Lord, and end the darkened age,
Restore the world, a golden page
Krishna heard, his heart aflame,
With courage born of sacred name,
He took his bow, his garments tight,
And journeyed forth to meet the fight.
Through forest paths and bustling lanes,
He moved with calm amidst the strains,
The women's eyes on him did feast,
The Gopi s love for Him increased.
At Mathura's gates, bright as dawn,
His fame and glory brightly shone,
The city stirred with fervent cries,
To welcome Him, the Lord so wise.
His gaze encompassed all with grace,
A serene, yet warrior's face,
Ready to break the tyrant's hold,
And free the land from darkness cold.
Thus from childhood dance and play,
The call to duty leads the way,
Divine purpose now unfurled—
Krishna moves to save the world.




The Diplomatic and Warrior Lord

With peacock crown and conch in hand,
Krishna stands where kings demand,
In Mathura's halls and courts so grand,
Words like arrows from his command.
Kamsa slain, the tyrant fell,
Yet Jarasandha's armies swell,
Eighteen times the Yadus flee,
Diplomacy tempers destiny.
To Hastinapur's gilded throne,
He speaks of peace, yet truth alone,
'Give the Pandavas their share, '
Words that pierce like arrows rare.
In Sabha halls where dice were thrown,
Draupadi's cries, her sari torn,
Krishna's grace extends the thread,
Miracle born of silent pledge.
Shishupala's rage meets measured gaze,
A hundred sins forgiven always,
Till justice calls, the disc descends,
Diplomat's mercy finally ends.
With Jarasandha, words of weight,
'Join or fight, ' he mediates,
Turning foe to fragile peace,
Warriors might be held on leash.
Salva's flying citadel falls,
Arrows rain from Krishna's call,
Yet before the bowstring sings,
Counsel offered, reason brings.
To Ugrasena's council wise,
He guides with insight, clear as skies,
Baladeva at his right,
Strength and counsel, day and night.
In every court, from Dwaraka's shore,
To Kurukshetra's field of war,
Krishna balances sword and speech,
Justice won beyond their reach.
Thus divine the warrior's art,
Where heart and mind play equal part,
Diplomacy with valor blent,
Krishna's rule forever sent.


The Final Retreat to Dwaraka

When Krishna's time in Vrindavan waned,
A call arose, the city gained—
Dwaraka, bright upon the shore,
A fortress strong, the ocean's roar.
Vishwakarma, architect divine,
Built walls to shimmer, towers to shine,
Six sectors laid with careful hand,
A kingdom born from sea and sand.
The Yadus fled from foes' harsh breath,
Seeking shelter, escaping death,
Under Krishna's wise command,
They left their homes and ancient land.
The city rose in single night,
Brilliant as the stars' own light,
Safe harbor, haven, shining bright,
Reflection of the Lord's own might.
Krishna roamed his shining streets,
Amidst the dance of joyous beats,
The people thronged in love and cheer,
For their protector always near.
Yet shadows stirred in fate's dark scroll,
As Yadus' rift began to roll,
Rival clans broke kin's embrace,
Spreading death in lineage's face.
Balarama left, his soul at rest,
Krishna grieved but faced the test,
Wandering forests in silent thought,
Remembering lessons life had taught.
By hunter's arrow Krishna fell,
A mortal wound in earthly shell,
The city swallowed by the sea,
A kingdom lost to destiny.
But memory lives in waves' soft sigh,
In pilgrim hearts that never die,
Dwaraka shines, a legend's flame,
Where Krishna's grace will ever claim.



The Philosophical Teachings

The chariots, before war's grim call,
Krishna unveils truth beyond the mortal thrall—
'The soul eternal, the body but clay,
Birthless, deathless, it never decays.
Karma yoga, selfless deed without claim,
Detach from fruits, let dharma be your flame,
Bhakti's pure love, the highest path to tread,
Surrender all—He bears the load instead.
Equanimity in joy and deepest pain,
See Self in all, break ego's binding chain,
Control the mind like tortoise draws its limbs,
Rise above dualities, where wisdom swims.
You have the right to work alone, not prize,
Fix eyes on duty, let results arise,
In Gita's song, the universe unfolds,
From cosmic form to love that soul beholds
Thus Krishna teaches—act, devote, discern,
Transcend the world, to Brahman's light return.


The eleventh canto of Srimad Bhagavatam



In ancient halls where Yadu kings reside,
A tale unfolds of pride and fate's tide,
The red-hot iron, a cursed fate cast,
Through time's vast ocean, shadows are vast.
A quarrel reigns within the clan's heart,
Like fire in bamboo, tearing apart,
The iron swallowed by ocean's deep,
Sprouts sharp-edged blades where waters sleep.
Old prophecies echo with stern decree,
The Yadus' end draws near, though none can see,
Yet Krishna's love like a steady sun,
Amidst the storm, his grace will run

.II. Maharaja Nimi and the Nine Yogendras

Beyond mortal coil, the sages meet,
Nimi speaks with voices sweet,
Of cosmic powers, yogic might,
The nine lords of yoga's height.
Each guardian of breath and soul,
Maintains the worlds with perfect goal,
Nimi learns the sacred art,
To calm his heart and cleanse his part.
The dance of energies unseen,
Beyond the veil of mortal scene,
Teaches how to lose the fear,
To find the Self forever near.

III. Liberation from Illusory Energy
The material veil, the cosmic play,
Ensnaring souls in night and day,
Yet Krishna's words reveal the key,
To break the chains and set souls free.
Detach the mind from fleeting form,
Like lotus bloom in quiet storm,
See all as one, beyond the mask,
Fulfill devotion's highest task.
The false is passing, the true remains,
Through love, the soul its freedom gains,
Not wealth, nor fame, nor power holds sway,
But serving God in a humble way.

IV. The Science of God and Cosmic Order

Krishna's vision to Arjuna shown,
God's cosmic form, vast and unknown,
All worlds within one radiant face,
Time and death in endless chase.
The suns and stars, the gods and men,
Merge in His form again and again,
To see this truth, the mind must rise,
Beyond the veil of earthly ties.
Within this vast and shining frame,
The universe dances without name,
A glimpse divine of God's own heart,
In every soul, in every part.

V. The Eternal Teachings

The eleventh canto's wisdom pure,
Invites the soul to find its cure,
In self-control and faith so deep,
Where mortal woes no longer creep.
Devotion, knowledge, selfless act,
The paths that keep the spirit intact,
Each moment a chance to transcend,
Where God's own love and life blend.
So here concludes this sacred song,
An ancient river winding long,
Flowing through hearts that seek and yearn,
For Krishna's grace to inward turn.






Maharaja Nimi and the Nine Yogendras

In Videha's court where sages meet,
King Nimi bows with reverent feet,
Nine sons of Ṛṣabhadeva stand,
Nava-yogendras of the land.Kavi, Havir, Antarīkṣa bright,
Prabuddha, Pippalāyana's light,
Āvirhotra, Drumila wise,
Camasa, Karabhājana rise.
Naked they wander, minds at peace,
Self-realized, their quests release,
From demigods to earthly kin,
Free to move where spirits spin.
Nimi offers seats of gold,
Worships them as stories told,
'Teach bhāgavata-dharma pure,
Highest good that souls secure.
'Kavi speaks of pure devotion's way,
Selfless love that doubts allay,
See the Lord in every form,
Transcend the world, weather the storm.
Havir tells of inner fire's rite,
Sacrifice that burns worldly night,
Antarīkṣa maps the breath's vast sea,
Prabuddha reveals the soul's true decree.
Pippalāyana chants ancient lore,
Āvirhotra opens wisdom's door,
Drumila shows the heart's deep art,
Camasa frees the captive heart
Karabhājana sings of ages past,
Devotees whose glories last,
Nimi drinks their nectar deep,
BhaktiThus enlightened, king ascends,
Body left, spirit befriends,
The nine yogendras wander free,
Lighting paths eternally.

The twelfth canto of Srimad Bhagavatam



The twelfth canto begins with sorrow's breath,
A prophecy declared by sages of death,
The Yugas' turning, Kali's rise,
Darkness creeps in mortal guise.
The loss of dharma, honor and grace,
The world succumbs to greed's embrace,
Men forget the path once pure,
And life's true purpose, long obscure.
The sages warn the virtuous few,
To hold to faith, to paths anew,
For chaos churns the cosmic sea,
And only love can set souls free.

II. The Teachings of Liberation

Amidst the age of fading light,
Spiritual truths still blaze so bright,
The self existent, One so pure,
Whose shelter is eternal sure.
The living soul within the frame,
Is different than the mortal name,
Detach from flesh, perceive the soul,
The part that makes the spirit whole.Bhakti, the path of love supreme,
The soul's true quest, the highest dream,
Leads beyond cyclic birth and death,
To endless life and hallowed breath.

III. The Cosmic Ice Dissolves

The cosmic ocean's solid form,
Frozen ice in Yugas' storm,
Melts away by grace divine,
Freeing souls to light's design.
This future age, golden and fair,
Shifts the world from harsh despair,
Where virtue blooms and hearts ascend,
And souls with God will interblend.

IV. The Lord's Incarnations Resumed

The canto reminds of divine fair ways,
Where Krishna's pastimes light all days,
From infant tears to cosmic dance,
His myriad forms in love's expanse.
Each incarnation, form, and deed,
Arranged to meet the world's deep need,
To save the good, and end the bad,
To make the broken spirit glad.
Thus ends the tale of cosmic quest,
Of love supreme our final rest,
In Lord's embrace, all pain subsides,
Eternal bliss forever abides.


The spiritual essence of the Twelfth Canto of the Srimad Bhagavatam

The Age of Kali's Dreadful Reign
Dark clouds descend, the Yugas wane,
Kali Yuga, age of pain,
Where dharma fades and shadows grow,
And hearts forget the path to know.
False leaders rise with crooked grin,
Deception's dance, the world's own sin,
Corruption slinks through palace halls,
As virtue stumbles, weak and small.
The earth itself in torment groans,
The sacred rivers choked with stones,
Forests bow to axes' song,
The age of right turns into wrong.
The Prophecy of Decline
The sages weep, their tears like rain,
Foretelling sorrow, loss, and pain,
Yet scriptures hold the hope bright,
That light will break eternal night.
An iron age with teeth so sharp,
Will grind the soul through worldly harp,
But faith and love will yet endure,
Pure souls will find the path secure.

The Secrets of Liberation

"Detach, " the Bhagavatam cries,
"From fleeting joys and mortal ties,
The soul's immortal, without birth,
A spark of God beyond this earth.
True knowledge clears the veil unseen,
Reveals what life and death convene,
The path of bhakti, pure and sure,
Leads soul to bliss serene and pure.

The Melting of Cosmic Ice

Frozen seas will melt away,
Chariot of the future day,
A new age of gold will dawn,
Where peace replaces worldly brawn.
Hearts awakened, spirits free,
Live in love's eternity,
The cosmic dance begins again,
Time dissolves, ends mortal pain.

The Lord's Incarnations Spectrum

From Matsya's swim to Kalki's ride,
The Lord appears on every side,
To rescue, teach, and light the way,
In every age, a bright array.
Krishna's leelas, Ram's might,
Divine forms that banish night,
A tapestry of grace and fight,
To guide the soul to endless light.

The Final Teachings of Love

"Love God with all your heart and soul,
In this alone lies highest goal,
No rites nor rules alone suffice,
But heartfelt love is paradise

All scriptures sing this sacred hymn,
Uniting life's profoundest trim,
The twelfth canto's closing song,
Bids all to wake, to right the wrong.

The Cycle Ends, The Soul Ascends

From Yuga's end to dawn's new light,
The soul journeys beyond the night,
To realms of joy and endless calm,
Where all is love, the highest balm.
O seeker hear this final call,
Rise above this mortal thrall,
In Krishna's name, forever stand,
Embraced by love's immortal hand.






The Glory of Srimad Bhagavatam

In sacred Skanda and Padma Puranas told,
The Mahatmya shines like gold,
Bhakti Devi, once radiant bright,
Faded in Kali's darkened night.
Her sons Jnana and Vairagya lost,
Wandered far, their luster tossed,
Narada sought the sages wise,
Sanatkumaras with heavenly eyes
Recite Bhagavatam, ' they proclaimed,
'Revive the virtues that have waned, '
From Badri to Haridwar they sang,
The nectar words in echoes rang.
Bhakti returned in splendor grand,
Jnana and Vairagya by her hand,
Dancing now in every heart,
Where faithful souls have played their part.
Gokarna's tale of seven-day rite,
Sutaji's words dispel the night,
One who hears with faith sincere,
All sins dissolve, moksha draws near.
Parikshit's curse, his final days,
Shukadeva's wisdom lights the ways,
From death's dark door to realms divine,
Bhagavatam makes spirits shine.
Atmadeva's sin-laden soul,
Heard the Purana, became whole,
Liberated from Yama's chain,
Immortality through sacred strain.
No other text holds equal grace,
Burns karma like the sun's embrace,
Health, wealth, wisdom it bestows,
In Kali Yuga, the river flows.
Chant its glories, hear its call,
Bhakti blossoms, fears dissolve all,
The ripened fruit of Vedas sweet,
Where God and soul in love complete.
Thus Mahatmya forever sings,
Of scripture's power on golden wings,
One verse heard with love profound,
Eternal life in heaven crowned.



Bhagavata Mahatmya:
Glory Divine
In Kali's gloom where shadows creep,
Bhakti weeps, her sons asleep—
Jnana, Vairagya, lost in night,
Devotion fades from Satya's light.
Narada seeks the Kumaras wise,
'Chant Bhagavatam! ' their counsel cries,
Seven days at Badri's sacred stream,
Revives the goddess, fulfills her dream.
Gokarna chants through scorn and pain,
Sinners freed by Purana's strain,
Atmadeva from Yama's chains breaks free,
One hearing grants eternity.
Suta proclaims its boundless might,
Vedas' fruit, sin's dark flight,
All tirthas, yajnas it contains,
Krishna's grace through sacred strains.
O Bhagavatam, nectar sweet and pure,
Burns karma, opens moksha's door,
In every heart let thy glory ring,
Eternal song that souls will sing!


The Age of Srimad Bhagavatam

From Vyasa's pen in twilight's glow,
Five thousand years in legends flow—
At Kali's dawn, when yugas turned,
The sage's heart with nectar burned.
Composed when Krishna left the fray,
Mahabharata's wisdom sealed away,
The ripened fruit of Vedic streams,
Awakening souls from Kali's dreams.
Yet scholars trace through script and style,
To medieval India's sacred isle—
Eighth century's light, or tenth's embrace,
One thousand years of timeless grace.
From oral chants to bound in verse,
Evolving through devotion's course,
The essence pure of ancient lore,
Bhakti's bridge forevermore.
Whether five millennia's sacred claim,
Or thousand years of growing fame,
Its truth endures beyond all date—
Krishna's song, the soul's true state.


O Bhakti Devi, faint and frail,
In Kali's age, your light grows pale,
Yet Narada's sacred hymn divine,
Restores your strength, makes you shine.
Seven days he chants thy holy song,
Awakening spirits weak and strong,
Jnana and Vairagya rise anew,
In scripture's grace, life flows true.
Bhagavatam, nectar sweet,
Purifies souls at Krishna's feet,
One heartfelt hearing, sins erase,
Grants eternal divine embrace.
This hymn proclaims your boundless sway,
Oh sacred text, show us the way!


Sages of the Bhagavatam Flame

In Vyasa's quill, eternal wisdom flows,
Śrīdhara Svāmī's bhāṣya glows with prose,
Jīva Gosvāmī weaves devotion's art,
Sanātana's depth pierces every heart.
Viśvanātha Cakravartī's grace divine,
Vallabhācārya makes pure love shine,
Śrīla Prabhupāda's words bridge worlds afar,
Unlocking Krishna's rasa, guiding star.
Edwin Bryant maps texts through time's vast sea,
Kenneth Valpey charts Purāṇa's sacred tree,
Ravi Gupta joins the scholarly quest,
Bhagavata's glory, forever blessed.
From ancient ācāryas to modern seers,
They chase the nectar through endless years,
Commentaries bloom like lotuses bright,
Illuming souls in devotion's light.


Recommended Academic Articles
Bhagavatam as Poetry
Here are five key scholarly articles analyzing the Srimad Bhagavatam as poetry, focusing on its literary structure, rasa (aesthetic emotion) , poetics, and stylistic excellence: 'The Literary Work as Revelation' by Krsna-lila Dasi (ISKCON Communications Journal, Vol.8)
Examines Bhagavatam's poetic form through Gaudiya Vaishnava aesthetics, balancing siddhanta (philosophy) and rasa (devotional emotion) . Highlights how its verses create transcendental literary experience beyond mundane poetry.
.'Śrīnātha's Bhāgavata Commentary: Non-Vedāntic Interpretations' (Academia.edu,2021)
Analyzes Telugu poet Śrīnātha's commentary, emphasizing exegetical dexterity in poetic interpretation over Vedantic readings. Explores how Bhagavatam's verses evoke non-dualistic devotion through literary artistry

.'International Journal of English and Studies: Śrimad Bhāgavata Mahāpurāṇa' (IJES, Vol.5 Issue 4)
Evaluates Bhagavatam as a Mahakavya (epic poetry) , adding to academic discourse on its metrical beauty, narrative structure, and motivational poetic power for readers and researchers
.'Srimad Bhagavatam: A Comprehensive Blend of Bhakti, Jnana, and Vairagya' (Savitri.in)
Discusses Bhagavatam's aesthetic sensitivity as a Purana, integrating devotion with poetic form. Positions it as a MahaPurana advocating bhakti through sublime verse and rasa theory
.'Bhagavata Purana Research Project Publications' (Oxford Centre for Hindu Studies)
Ongoing scholarly works analyzing Bhagavatam's poetic composition, including stylistic evolution, alankara (figures of speech) , and its status as majestic poetry across commentaries.
.These articles blend Indology, comparative literature, and rasa theory, accessible via Academia.edu, journals, and OCHS resources.
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