I imagine myself, lost in my dreams,
Strolling through the streets of Braj,
With a hand resting the pot over my head,
And another holding the veil across my face.
I take quick steps, hurrying my way around,
I wish to escape before He catches me,
But secretly I am hoping my plan fails,
And I get another chance to take a glance.
I close my eyes and quickly recite a prayer,
"Maa Gauri, may I ferry this pot of butter soon,
Before the butter thief takes it all away."
But my lips curve into a smile,
Just at His mention, thinking about His mischief,
Even though I try to save my pot from Him.
I get lost further in His melodies,
For He is not only a butter thief,
But also the stealer of my heart,
Makhan chor, Chitta chor,
If it wasn't for this façade,
I would come back running into your arms.
How do I express my desire to feed you,
Butter from my own hands,
Instead of you breaking my pot in mischief,
For why should you struggle even this much,
When all my heart desires is to serve you,
While you can rest and I take care.
But this is His leela, I convince myself,
And He engages out of joy, not pity,
For He is the reservoir of happiness,
The giver of love, the harbinger of spring,
He never does anything for Himself,
But only to make us feel loved again.
I'm so lost in my thoughts,
That I fail to observe,
The butter oozing out and is all over my veil,
My palm is buttery, and the fresh fragrance envelopes me,
I know that moment has come,
And I'm blessed again with His presence.
My other hand over the head,
Reaches out to feel the pot,
Although I know it's not there,
But maybe I'm too shy to turn around,
And cast an angry glance at Him,
For each eye contact makes my heart skip a beat.
I stand there still, taking in the aroma of butter,
Waiting for Him to complete His leela,
Leeladhar, blessing me to be a part of this,
Coming towards me, to taste the butter,
A reflection of my love, I made it with my own hands.
He comes in front of me,
And I can feel His fragrance replace the aroma of butter,
And when He is so close that I can feel His breath,
He rests His hand and gently lifts my chin up,
And I shy away and turn around.
But He knows me too well,
So He turns around too,
From the corner of my eye,
I can see He is smiling,
And I respond with a wide smile,
Thanking the great Goddess,
"Maa Gauri, thank you for ferrying me,
Across this ocean of Bhav Sagar,
Thank you for letting the butter thief,
Steal my heart away one more time."
YOU ARE READING
Letters Of Love - Divine Devotion
Spiritual"All of these skies and earths, the winds and breeze are witness to My Love. They shall carry My message to My Lord for I eagerly wait for Him to come to Me." How beautiful is this world where we can see a reflection of the Divine everywhere around...
