The Realms of
Life are Her bounteous breasts; and consciousness. Her
milk of endless delight, which she yieldeth into my
lips unasked; such grace is my Mother’s.
They call her Krishna. Ah, she has clasped me in fond
embrace with her arms of ethereal space! And, placing
me on her lap of Earth, she loves to tell me endless
stories, strange and mysterious. 1
And some of the tales I call by the name of pleasure,
evolutions, victories. Yet others come to me as pains,
sad defeats and falls; stories, all these, that my Mother
recounts to suit my various moods and stages, lovingly
told, ever entrancing 2
And many are the wondrous toys and dolls which my Mother
There is one that is named the ‘Moon’, and it sheds
a nectar-like flood of light. And there are herds and
herds of ‘clouds’, many-colored toys, yielding rain.
There’s the Sun, too, foremost of my play-things, the
beauty of whose face I have not words to depict 3
Toys, toys, toys:
heavenful of stars sparkling like tiny gems. Many a
time, but in vain, have I essayed to count them all.
And then you have those green hills, that never stir
from their seats, silent toys, offering speechless play.
and rivulets, fair and playful, that wander all o’er
the land and, in the end, they flow into that marvelous
toy, you ocean, wide and boundless-seeming, with dashing
billows, spouts of spray and its long, continuous chant
where in my Mother’s name is eve sounded: Om, Om, O….M.
and gardens abounding in many-hued gems of flowers;
and delicious fruits hanging one the trees, strong in
essence, rich in for. Ah, the world is full of such
exquisite play-things. All these, my Mother has given
things to eat and songs all sweet to hear, and companions
gifted, like me, with minds, to play with and become
one; and these fair girls, fit objects of love, that
passion of flaming delight like fiery nectar, killing
– sweet. 7
winged birds, the beasts that walks the earth, and countless
fishes of many and many a kind, there, in that thundering
a glut of raptures, too many even to think! 8
endless sciences and arts she has ordained and, nobler
than all these, divine wisdom-for my serous hours.
when the light mood is on me and I would fain laugh
and be merry, many are the jokes she has planned to
amuse me with: the lies of priests, the comic feats
of kings, hypocrisies of age and the silly cares of
I demand, she gives, my Mother.
she hastens with gifts, ere I tell her I’d like to have
high grace does she protect me, and says she will make
me a yogin, like Arjun, my brother in race.
and in all places, my work shall be to sing of the bounteous
love of my Mother.
a long and shining life and other matchless glories,
she will grant me as reward-Krishna, My Mother. 10