Skip to main content

My Little Prayer

To the provider of those in need, I pray
That should there be another soul in need
Whose need is more desperate than mine
Attend Thee first to my fellow being
And you would have attended to me.

To the protector of those in fear
Kindly lend courage to the meek
For from fear comes failure
And failures, misery.
Lend courage to my friend.
For where a friend fails
There is little success for me

O! Bhairava, I know
That I am but a little commah
In the Epic called life.
Place me in places where I shall make sense,
Let there be a greater meaning to my life
And that meaning be far greater than I.

Bhairava is the Lord of Time

Comments

  1. Rajesh this is beautiful and inspirational ... even though you see difficulty in your own life, you still want to help others less fortunate... just beautiful... very well written :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I did have you in my mind L. Though the journey be unforgiving, it is still the only one you will ever have. God bless.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Long Winter Chill

If I could do a Neruda, You would have smelt of summer roses And Autumn pine. There would have been sheer love Of the kind that causes our hearts to ache And loneliness bordering the divine. You would have had so many secrets Welling up as in a girly giggle And so few friends who would hear them all. I am no Neruda I can't paint you a Summer breeze Amidst this long winter chill.

That Fluttering of Broken Wings

If you were to cross the road and hurt your toe, I know that I will never know. As we go on to take different roads and move on across different shores, there is something that happens to our relationships. Something that estranges, disconnects, disintegrates. I know that you still think of me. I know this because I find myself thinking about you. And thoughts rarely get seeded on their own. It comes from you to I and from I to you until one of us is alive. Old relationships rarely die. Like broken winged moths, they hang around dark alleys of forgotten memory lanes. Ever so often, I can hear one of them flutter its wings. Not too close but never too far.

Hush

You don't have to tell me. I just know. Its that little sniffle that comes through The unexplained pauses The slow responses I know when you call Just because you needed to cry.