Browsing Tag

krishna

Poetry

i want to pack up the night and

i want to pack up the night and take it with me… wrapped in its folds are stars and stories from afar afar and farther away, even farther than that, where where something of me lives, i’ve known of it long known? no, perhaps not that. knowing is so reduced lit with shining bright light, harsh and stentorian insistent, unrelenting, blinded by its own glory there’s the night, dark and darker still, calling me to those stars, those stories, and…

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Mythology and More

why the hanukkah story reminds me of madhusudan’s magic pot

actually, there’s no magic involved. both are stories of faith. perhaps the sort of faith that brings miracle. i heard one when i was a child, the other after i got married. as my husband, who is jewish, finished telling me why eight oil lamps are lit on hanukkah, i thought of a tiny pot of yogurt and the tale of madhusudan’s bhar. “bhar” means earthenware pot in bengali, and the sound of “r” at the end is more like…

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sarees tell stories

sand banks, memory, and baluchari

golden arrows rained down, a charioteer looked back at the archer standing behind him. who was he shooting at? i looked to the left. a man stood on another chariot holding the reins as a pair of horses reared, one of the chariot’s wheels seemed to be stuck in the mud and a warrior in reddish orange and gold was beside it perhaps trying to get it out. who were they? even though my mind wasn’t articulating clearly, i knew…

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