Krishna’s Essence in Sai’s Presence

Imagine the birth of Lord Krishna, the wonderful event that had happened in the Dwapara over five thousand years ago…With eyes turned closed, shutting down the senses, steering the mind deeper into the world of imagination and fantasy, day dreaming Beloved Krishna…Read on Ms. Jullie Chaudhuri’s poetic imagination of the great grand happening in the Dwapara, the day Prasanthi reminisces in the Ultimate Divine Presence as Sri Krishna Janmashtami.

Parthipurieshwara Jaya Mana Mohana,
Eashwarinandan Ghanashyam Mukunda…
Namo Sai Narayana,
Namo Sai Narayana… 

Come let us take a walk,
The floodgate of memories unlock,
Relive the multihued joys of Dwapar age,
Contemplated upon by many a sage,
Where the mystical pastimes,
Of Sri Krishna, the Lord Incarnate,
Wrapped itself around the heart,
And did it ecstatically satiate…

None could resist the melody of His flute,
Magnetically drawing all,
An enchanting conduit,
‘Akarshit Ati Te Krishna’,
The One Who attracts is Krishna,
But was His charm only for that era?
The One whose dark blue shade,
Signified infinity,
Who mingled with each and every one pleasingly,
Who endeared Himself to all smiling enchantingly,
Who played out His ‘lilas’ delightfully,
Who outmaneuvered His foes skillfully,
Oh! That blue toned One,
Dressed in Pitambari,
Giridhari, Vanmali,
Radha Hrudaya Vihari,
Adorned with peacock feathers,
And fragrant forest blooms,
Kunjbihari, Muralidhari,
Chose to bless the age of Kali,
Giving joy immense to all of humanity,
A presence,
Oh, so graceful,
Oh, so powerful,
First at Shirdi,
Then at Parthi,
Choosing as His abode,
Yajur Mandiram,
At Nilayam Parshanti…

The Absolute chose the womb,
Of Devaki,
Fortunate was she,
To have given birth to the Lord,
In two incarnations formally,
As Prishni and Aditi,
The grace flowed on,
As He granted her a vision,
Of His glorious four armed form,
As Chakradhari Narayana…
Who chose to be born in the prison at
Who then frolicked at Gokul,
And in the green, green meadows of
The darling son,
Of Yashoda,
Whom the Moonbeams worshipped,
Along the banks of the Yamuna,
Adored by animals and birds,
Gopas and gopis,
Whose cherished name through the ages,
Wafted on the breeze,
Enveloping the Kali era,
A whisper that reached many an ear,
Through years gone by,
Only to be affixed,
To the divine name of Sathya Sai…
For that Supreme Personality,
Who came as Krishna,
Chose to enter the womb of Eashwaramma,
Earth had longingly awaited,
Just such an appearance,
And so that Ultimate Essence,
Who had chosen an advent as Krishna,
To wipe her tears dry,
Emerged forth as Bhagawan Sri Sathya Sai…

Akin to the blue boy of Brindavan,
Ever so infinite,
Indeed a wondrous sight,
The One with Lotus Eyes,
Whose form did of dazzling brilliance comprise,
The outline of ‘rain cloud’ blue,
Took on a flaming orange hue,
His voice reflects the melody of Krishna’s flute,
His enigma, His mystery none can refute,
The presence of Krishna,
In the essence of Sai,
The essence of Krishna,
In the presence of Sai,
Krishna is Sai,
Sai is Krishna,
Destiny smiled and blessed us thus far,
His name reverberates in every heartbeat,
The soul soars with bliss replete…