Poetry and Paintings

Poetry and Paintings By Sandhya

Showers of JoyMother Nature talks to us in various beautiful ways. The bright shine from the sun, chirping of thebirds, lovely colours of the flowers, glow of the moon, twinkling stars, and the colourful rainboware few happenings that bring us close to our self and open doors to unlock the beauty within us.One fine afternoon, I was sitting on the verandah looking for some inspiration to write. The skywas a little pale with a formation of clouds that was shaped like a big ice cream. Somewhere Iheard a clap, a thunder. It was as though the clouds were laughing hard. A chill breeze swiped theclouds and brought forth a few drops of rain. Little drops of water fell on dry earth. An amazingsmell arose out of the wet mud. It’s a smell that brings out the child in us - young child that enjoysthe secret beatitudes. As I sat absorbed in the freshness that came along with the scent of wet mud,the rain drops increased in volume and pat, pat, pat came the shower with full force. The little birdswent back to their nests, cats and squirrels hid in the tiny places they could find and flowers, as ifthey were thirsty for a long time, leaned in and enjoyed the bath earnestly. Little children came outto dance in the rain merrily.The drops of rain looked like little silver bells falling on earth creating a jingle as they touched theground. Wish I had a string to pull them all together… The flowers rejoiced the shower and asolitary dove sat happily drenched in water. I saw the trees standing tall and strong despite theheavy downpour. Though they bent along with the wind they did not break. A beautiful shower isa messenger from the heavens blessing the earth with happy times. These little drops that strikethe earth are going to merge with the huge ocean taking a long course down winding paths andtunnels touching and making a difference in many lives.When a singer is about to stop singing, he slowly brings his song to an end, by reducing the volumestep by step and slowing down the pace. The music reverberates in our ears even after he hasfinished it. Just like that, the rain came to an end with the drops reducing slowly in intensity. Littlebirds walked out of their nest to sing a beautiful song full of gratitude towards nature for thewonderful shower. Cats and squirrels started their play again. The dew drops on the leavesglistened in the shine and birds pecked on the little water puddles left on the ground. The Sun,which seemed to be hiding behind the clouds walked out with its smiling golden shine and lit thewhole place with an air of felicity. It was as though some beautiful soul had come in and MotherNature welcomed the little one to this earth with her joyous festival.

Journey of Waves In waves I move, Calm and smoothly rising waves, I am on a journey to find my source, It is a search of experience. I am transparent for those little colorful pebbles Very beautiful ones lying on my surface Revealing their wonder to the nature around. The journey is winding, with twists and turns, A new event awaits me at each turn. Lovely flowers bloom on my way Many lives are touched as I travel on. At places, I am a fierce surge with a lot of force, At others, I am calm, just floating by. I am even given a name, revered at few places, And flow across the lands rich with vegetation. I meet other sisters from the same origin, A confluence happens, a sacred one. The journey continues along with them now, New adventures and beautiful lands we cross. And one destined day, we reach the huge ocean, A union happens with her vastness and I see myself in it. A sense of oneness engulfs me, The secret key I was searching for. The voyage continues, With newer experiences, Along wider lands and higher mountains.- The river that flows across and connects lands. The love that flows among us and embraces with a protective connection.

Mystic Feather I found you, soft, pleasing and colourful, Swaying along with a lovely bird. Beautiful it dances, pride of India, Spreading its magical wings of life. Little violets from the bird fell on earth, And I found you there, Spotted with green, blue and gold You were lying there with a yearning. A little blue boy walked by, Glancing a graceful look on you, Did he like you so much? I am jealous of you, For His red tinted hands picked you up, Softly, he placed you on his turban. And you remained there forever, Adorning the crown of a prince, Turban of a cow herd, The stealer of all our Hearts. Vive of ColoursA Change…

A beautiful change has set in. Our blue planet has turned around with an aspiration to embraceitself with multitude of colours. A grand tree stands rooted to the soil. Gently, it responds to thischange by flowering variety of blossoms. This vibrant response of the trees, announces the comingof a friendly season, of Spring - Vasantha.Rainbow…A conscious place exists on the earth. Her atmosphere is woven with miracles. The colours in herfloral gardens reflect Mother’s smile. She has a little water fountain, a very beautiful one withwater drops dancing to silent music. A marriage of droplets with the sunshine brings forth a secretrainbow – very secret, one has to look very closely – with a vive of colours in it. I stood there oneday, closely watching it, heart filled with wonder.Holi…Little Krishna comes running, with his silver anklet bells jingling, a splash of colours in his hand.Radha with her gopis wait under a big banyan tree and His colourful splash answers their call.Bathed in a mix of colours, they dance joyously with a little light glowing in the center. Acelebration we bring in to our lives as Holi…

Colours, the sheer joy in watching them being played with – in the painting of sky at dawn anddusk, flowers decorated with love at altar, in the palette of the painter, in the rangoli drawn withskilful hands, wings of a butterfly– rang,Kitni rang!…striking chords of imagination in a child’smind.With devotion, we touch on the colours in Mother’s symbol – the passionate violet of Generosity,the humble green of Gratitude, the bold red of Courage – all these adorn our inner temple withvibrancy, giving space to develop in us a childlike trust towards Her.Lines from Savitri welcoming Spring: Then Spring, an ardent lover, leaped through leaves And caught the earth-bride is his eager clasp; His advent was a fire of irised hues, His arms were a circle of the arrival of joy. His coming brought the magic and the spell; At his touch life’s tired heart grew glad and young; He made joy a willing prisoner in her breast. - Book 4, Canto 1The above picture is Valley of Flowers at Uttaranchal, India. Mother Ganges flows through theplace. It is an enchanted valley that sings and celebrates the Spring season. Image is sourced fromhttp://www.onetikk.com/blog/1195/valley-of-flowers/With Gratitude,Sandhya

We say Gratitude Gratitude… says the flower Whose petals blossom To the mighty sun’s power. Gratitude… says the smile That which comes rippling In a heart waiting all the while. Gratitude… says the river As she merges with the blue ocean Growing along vaster and wider Gratitude… says the trees As the dawn breaks through Rising tall to reach the skies Gratitude… says the child To feel always a gentle hand Holding it strong and kind. Shades of the skyGentle fingers tune the strings of tanpura*. Soft music emerges, announcing the beginning of asong. The singer’s voice hums tuning with the music coming from the strings. An alaap* talks ofthe raagam* that is going to carry the song. Then walks in the flowering words stringed like beadsof a jewel. The various instruments join in, harmoniously creating a confluence with the singer.Various levels are reached, the song is lived by everyone. Gently the music comes to an end,gradually reducing in intensity. Strings of tanpura reverberate again, marking the end of the song.A feeling stays in everyone’s heart as though, a single sound has traversed through all the notes ofthe song.Gentle fingers of the sun touch the dark sky. Soft light emerges, announcing the beginning of theday. The seeker’s energy aligns with that of the rising sun. A bright smile talks of the cheerfulnessin his heart for the day. He then decides on the various tasks to be carried out. Various people joinin, creating a beautiful team effort. Achievements are made, the day is lived along with everyone.Gently the day comes to an end, as the calm of the dusk sets in. Fingers of the sun reach out againto paint the sky with pink hues, marking the end of the day. A feelings stays in everyone’s heartas though, a single beam has traversed through the various shades of the day.

Shades of the sky – dawn, day, twilight and nightfall - are similar to the various stages of a beautifulmusic.Savitri begins with “The Symbol Dawn”: “It was the hour before the Gods awake”.Sets into evening in “The Return to Earth”: “In indolent skies reclined, the thinning day Turned to its slow fall into evening’s peace”Decorates Nightfall towards the end: “Night, splendid with the moon dreaming in heaven”And finishes by saying: “And in her bosom nursed a greater dawn”To celebrate the various shades of the day, we welcome readers to a series which will spreadthrough the year, beginning with the dawn, brightening into an active day, setting to a calm eveningand relaxing into a cool night.

Flowers – jewels of natureRight there, just around the corner,I found a little bush.A bush of smiling lovely flowers it wasRadiant with beautiful colours.I went ahead and stroked the flowers,a wave of happiness swept over me.Charming and shining they wereLike clusters of stars fallen on ground.Flowers are givers of joy and light.Hands of blessing shower them,Hands of love embrace them,And a graceful garland strings theminto a jewel of fragrant beads.Flowers are oceans of purityMelting all things in their sheer beauty.

Dawn (Picture of Dawn – Sandhya)Like a fire from cave depthsLike a chant of hymn from silence’ selfLike a living symbol from ocean-nessAwakes the Dawn from Nature’s bosom.She leans Her hands of blessingAs fresh pink hues on blue skySecretly knocks the petals openingOn the flame-flowers of ecstasy.A welcome song for the day is Dawn,A miracle birth of light in morn.

An evening’s music In the beauty of her pink hues, Merging softly with the wide blue, In spaces filling with musical tunes, Evening celebrates her august glow. Like a jewel of crimson flame, Glowing brightly at the horizon, Like victory at the end of a well-played game, The evening sun, awaits the next morn. Little feathered flights sing joyously Yearning for the light to stay on, Tall rooted lives aspire earnestly Carrying in them the hope of a brighter dawn. And in our hearts is felt a deep richnessFormed successfully from the long day’s experience Here is evening in her glorious fullness Vibrating wisdom as her very essence.

A Spiritual song in the midst of NatureDancing peacocks, singing birds, lush green trees playing with the wind, pretty geese runningaround, rabbits and many more beautiful nature weaved together make a cherubic little villageknown as Sri Aurobindo Ashram in the heart of urban Delhi. A row of pomegranate flowerswelcomes one inside the campus.Like a poem stitched together with lovely expressions, the place houses many sweet creations. Atone corner is a shrine and a meditation hall dedicated to The Mother and Sri Aurobindo. The shrineis both royal and simple at the same time. Fragrance of the colorful flowers and Tulasi leaves fillthe place. Evenings are musical at the meditation hall. Inmates of the Ashram sing from their hearta soft melody accompanied by harmonium and tambura that flows like a river around the place.The musical evenings end with readings from The Mother’s works.A calm residential block is built around a flower courtyard and it houses the inmates and guestsstaying at the Ashram for a short time. Numerous trees adorn the block and one is awakened bythe call of birds every morning. Volunteers clean the place and create a merry environment around.The dining hall serves sumptuous food and sings of a very homely atmosphere.I have read about the Vedic schools of ancient India and wondered how it would be if it is re-created today with a modern outlook. Wise rishis are teachers and children stay with them duringthe initial years of their growth. There is not the procedure of studying with rules, fixed classroomsand reading textbooks. It is all about just being in the atmosphere and growing together. Learningjust happens, along with everyone. During my stay at the Ashram, I was fortunate for having spenta week with the children and diyas of the garden of wisdom called Mirambika where I foundglimpses of the ancient schools taking shape.Freedom is the breeze blowing in the garden, didis stand as tall trees, diyas are glowing lamps andchildren are the beautiful flowers. Vedic chants reverberate in the place every morning and theymark the beginning of a beautiful day. I walked in the garden everyday breathing its oxygen offreedom and slightly touched the flowers growing there. I worked on adding some beauty to thegarden with the little of what I have. The flowers spoke to me in their happy glee as I decorated asmall part with pictures of sunshine, peacock and lotus. Everybody in the garden are just happybeing there. That is all it is all about. Isn’t it? And Sweet Mother is there, smiling in everyone’sheart, through all the joys and sorrows.The sunshine sparkles among the leaves every morning, squirrels run around squeaking theirwishes, peacocks walk along, little chicks happily move around, even fall is filled with sweetmelodies and the moon shines protectively through the night. All these and much more make upthe little village of the Ashram. With sweet memories in my heart I came back home with therichness of having made a beautiful journey. Perhaps, it is the place where Savitri and Satyavanare living.

Jasmine flowers Oye Jasmines! Did you take birth from flower-sweet hearts? Or heaven’s crystal pure stars? You are white pearls of Nature… Stringing you together brings forth a garland of rapture! Pure devotion radiates as your essence, Your offering illumines us with a spiritual sense. You are flowers of milky whiteness Filling the world with glorious richness. On the GitaLike the sacred source of a great river,Lives an eternal Wisdom at the heart of all creation.It is the Truth of world movements,The noble aim of all aspirations,The origin of all beauty.Flowing forth as a tale of reverence,It takes birth in the Vedic minds of rishis,An epic unfolds conceived of the Wisdom.Thus emerged the Ramayana and MahabharataAs two great literary rivers flowing across IndiaEnriching many with their profound movements.Many are the characters, many are the lands,Flowing through time in the great epics.

Among them, playing His rapturous fluteAnd also a felicitous hide and seek,Is our peacock feathered prince of Mathura.Indeed tricking and playful is He,For He has chosen the most exciting stageTo spawn His Wisdom into a beautiful music.Born at the battlefield,In the midst of war and strife,The Gita carries Krishna’s eternal WisdomEach verse a pearl in the jewel of God.As the sacred scripture enters our lives,We feel the chariot of our journey driven by KrishnaHis advice soothing our forlorn Arjuna heartsRadha flowering in us, from the depths of our devotion. On a song of treasuresThe sun has arisen from the bosom of darkness,The light has spilled over earthAnd the space is filled with an energyAwakening lovely flowers, sweet birds and noble people.In a little spiritual land at southern India,A young sage, wise and spirited,Blossoms his eyes to the touches of fresh light,A day is in his hands, a blank page,Looking forward to new experiences,He brightens up to write the song for the dayTo create treasures that will live on through ages.Bhavathi Bikshandhehi, Bhavathi Bikshandhehi,Reverberates his sweet voice through the streets of the town.His seer’s eyes capture a rickety old hutAnd he stops by, asking for alms, enlivening the spaces.The door of the hut creaks open, slowly and carefully,Walks out an old woman, very poor, very noble.“Greetings! O Sage. We are blessed to have your presence.Poor and old we are though, and do not have anything to give you”Speaks the woman to the sage, humbly, in a gentle voice.“Perhaps, there must be something, something very little,Little that you can offer this young sage” is the sage’s response,His heart brimming with blessings for the poor woman.The old woman walks in for a search,Searches her old small hut,And she spots a mellow little amla fruit at one corner.Mustering a lot of courage, full of reverence,She places the little fruit in the hands of the sage.

“Forgive me for it is old and too small,But this is all we have”.The sage is pleased with her offering.A beautiful song he sings, a song of Sanskrit verses.Living in the song, Goddess Lakshmi.Delighted by the young sage’s praise,She appears before him in all splendor and glory.“O living symbol of my Light,what is it that you need?”“Poor is the woman, but her heart, a glory of diamonds.Grant, Goddess, that the woman be filled with riches,And she has a lot more to give to all”There comes a shower of gold and rubiesAnd the Generosity of the wise woman’s heart,Converts her into a woman of riches.The song of Sanskrit verses is revered as Kanakadhaara stotram,And the young sage, Adi Shankara. Lotus Flowers The gentleness of blessing hands Sanctity of Mother’s feet Advent of the Dawn Goddess Blossoming shape of Krishna’s eyes Flowering of a smiling face Hold within them a secret, One that is at the heart of a Lotus flower. Quivering at the touch of sunshine, Silken petals unfurl one by one. Seated serenely as in a deep meditation, The flowers are living sages in trance. Beautiful symbols are they, of heavenly beauty, Secretly decorating the earth with sweet ecstasy.

On Savitri At the wake of a new dawn A beautiful song decided to be born. It is music for the blue world Converting it into a blaze of gold. Singing of Dawn and Dusk, Dancing peacocks and parrots, Tales of Savitri and Satyavan, Embedded into Love and life song. Unveiling notes of His flute music, Creating raptures so beatific. Savitri is the golden raagam, Each canto in it is a jeweled varnam.Savitri is His compassionate guidance,It is Sri Aurobindo living along with us. Shrine of Mother’s Love

An artistic impression to Savitri book