A plea to Krishna

Oh Krishna, from your heavenly abode so high, Listen to the cries of those who wonder why, We know you're not just in grand temples' sight, But everywhere, in the day and in the night.

Do you hear the pleas of those in despair? Or do VIP queues for your darshan seem unfair? What's the secret in these lines they find, While you, O Krishna, in simplicity are enshrined?

You don't need money, silver, or gold, Yet offerings are made, stories untold, In dreams, make them understand, I implore, It's the needy and the poor you truly adore.

Has your pure message been led astray? By those who seek power in your name today? Why chant "Hare Krishna" but act with division? Teach them, Krishna, in dreams, your true vision.

Have you become a deity for the elite? I hope not, for that wouldn't be right, In temples, they keep women at bay, Yet sing of Radha in devotion's display.

Why glorify Nara without Narayani's grace? When it's known together, they embrace, Whisper in their hearts, make it plain, Without women, there's no life's sweet refrain.

Hear this plea, O Krishna, from a heart so sincere, Spread your message of love, let it be clear, In every temple, and in every devotee's dream, Let compassion and equality be the theme.

~Dr Intaj Malek

Krishna: Bridging Divides

If Krishna's teachings become common lore, The mischief-makers shall trouble no more, Let us erase divisions, unite as one, In the era of love, under the same sun.

No more shall strife between brethren persist, As hearts of all will harmoniously coexist, Sheikh and Tafarrukat, together they'll stand, In this era of peace, hand in hand.

Krishna's wisdom, a guiding light to share, In every heart, compassion's tender glare, With unity as our creed, love as our claim, Together we'll rise, extinguishing blame.

Let Krishna's teachings, like a soothing rain, Quench the fires of hatred, the cycle of pain, In this transformed world, we'll all proclaim, One family, one love, with no one to blame.

~Dr Intaj Malek

Krishna across the ages

In Satya Yuga's time, young Krishna played, In cowherd's homes, where butter oft' was laid, He sneaked and laughed, as curd and butter he'd eat, His half-clad charm, oh, what a wondrous feat!

With eyes that sparkled like the starry skies, He danced with Gopis, pure love in their eyes, In rustic fields, under the moon's soft glow, That Krishna's charm, in our hearts, did grow.

But now, in this age of AI and light, A different Krishna, in mansions, takes flight, He orders meals online, with a digital command, Yet in his presence, our hearts understand.

No longer half-clad, but adorned in silk, His wisdom shines through, as smooth as milk, In virtual realms, he guides the way, Balancing tradition with the modern's sway.

His grace transcends eras, a timeless hue, In olden days or today, Krishna, we pursue, With the innocence of a child's laughter, Or the touch of a screen, our hearts beat faster.

The Krishna of Satya Yuga, in pastoral delight, The Krishna of AI Yuga, in the digital night, Both allure with beauty, in their unique way, Teaching us love, in every era's display.

In tales of old and technology's bright gleam, Krishna's presence is felt, like a radiant dream, In this ever-changing world, both old and new, Krishna's love remains, eternally true.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Krishna in Cyber Space

In the age of screens and digital grace, Emerges Krishna, in a modern space, Not with a flute but a smartphone's glow, Guiding us through life, as we ebb and flow.

Modern Krishna, see in virtual attire, A beacon of wisdom, always to inspire, In bytes and pixels, view a cosmic dance, He leads us forward, with gracious advance.

Not in Vrindavan's fields, but in cyberspace, He shares divine love, in every case, His teachings echoed through data streams, Awakening hearts from digital dreams.

With tweets of compassion, and status updates, Modern Krishna guides, and surely elevates, In this digital age, his message is crystal clear, Love, unity, and truth, to hold us all so dear.

No cowherd's flute, but algorithms play, A melody of hope, in the modern day, Modern Krishna, in the web's embrace, Guiding us toward love, in this virtual space.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Moonlit Reverie

Oh, moon above, in your tender grace, Why does my heart find such a peaceful place? Though distant realms our forms divide, Your silent pull draws me to your side.

I cannot reach, but a force unknown, Weaves a bond where seeds of dreams are sown, Hidden behind veils of cloud's disguise, You play with me in cerulean skies.

Heart to heart, how far will you take flight? Ohhh, ohhh, through the canvas of night, How deeply shall you lure me in, These verses of praise, an anthology spin.

Gazing at you, dreams unfurl and entwine, Stories born from your celestial shine, When shall we meet, share tales untold, In your gentle glow, secrets unfold.

The world shall marvel at our night's embrace, With you by my side, in your silvery grace, Oh moon, my confidant, in skies we'll roam, Where dreams and stories find their home.

Dr Intaj Malek

Krishna in the Foundry's Forge

I'll sing of Krishna, not the cosmic star, Narsimha's praise has traveled near and far, But Krishna's glory, as a foundry hand, In toil and sweat, where he takes his stand.

Within the forge, where the iron rods gleam, No time for mischief or a neighbor's dream, This Krishna works, his efforts strong, No Yashoda's care, no lullaby song.

Meals delayed, scarcely a moment to dine, No playful pranks in this life's design, Yet Krishna's sweat, in the foundry's heat, Carries a story, both bitter and sweet.

With every swing of the hammer's might, Krishna shapes metal, in the fiery light, The foundry's son, in the heat's embrace, Crafts a world of strength, in that sacred space.

And though his days are devoid of ease, His labor's rhythm a silent masterpiece, This foundry Krishna, in his humble role, Teaches lessons of the heart and soul.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Wheat moon’s dance

Beneath the moon's soft, gentle light we see, In fields of wheat, a wondrous sight to be, Like Krishna, men adorned in robes so white, With turbans bound, they dance into the night.

Beside them stand the labor girls, our pride, Gopis in the moon's tender glow, side by side, With sickles sharp and sheaves of wheat they sway, In harmony, they toil until break of day.

No pots upon their frames, a change in style, No Meera's songs escape, yet all the while, Krishna's spirit in their every stride, They toil as one, with hearts open wide.

These Krishnas, day by day, their labor's song, In fields where earnings from their toil are strong, They sow, they reap, their work beyond compare, Providing sustenance, a gift so rare.

Bajra and onions, humble is their fare, Yet, wheat for us they labor and prepare, From bread to pizza, see their toil so free, These Krishnas gift the harvest, you and me.

In fields, the Gopis, not with pots to bind, But strength and grace, in every step they find, With sarees tied, they toil through sweat and heat, Their spirit shines in fields of golden wheat.

The Krishna we revere, his words so wise, But in these Krishnas, actions truly rise, Let's honor them, for toils they gladly bring, The Practicing Krishnas, our hearts do sing.

Their labor sows our daily bread's embrace, With each harvest, they fill our table's space, In the moon's tender light, they play their part, These Krishnas of the field, a love-filled heart.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

Krishnas of the Fields

Beneath the full moon's gentle light, In fields of wheat, a wondrous sight, Men, like Krishna, dressed in white, With turbans tied, they dance so bright.

Beside them, labor girls in rows, As Gopis in the moon's soft glow, With sickle and wheat, their hands do sway, In harmony, they sweat and toil away.

No earthen pots are seen upon their frame, No Meera's songs heard but hearts aflame, Yet, Krishna's spirit is seen in their stride, They labor hard, toil and sweat side by side.

These Krishnas, toiling day by day, In fields where they earn their pay, They sow and reap, their work is clear, Providing us food we hold so dear.

But Bajra and onion, their humble fare, While wheat for us they toil and bear, From bread to pizza, it's their toil we see, These Krishnas gift their harvest with glee.

Gopis the farm girls, embracing the field, No pots on their waists, but strength revealed, With sarees tied around their tiny waist, In toil and sweat, they keep their pace.

The Krishna we worship, words he may teach, But these Krishnas in fields, their actions preach, Let's honor them for the toils they bring, The Practicing Krishnas, our hearts do sing.

In their labor, they sow our daily bread, With each harvest, our tables are spread, In the moon's embrace, they play their part, These Krishnas of the field, with love in heart.

~ Dr Intaj Malek

A poet laments

In the hush of heavens, divine silence rings, Gods and goddesses, with muted wings, I gaze back in anger, with a sense of dismay, At a time when harmony lit our way.

Cows grazed freely, in meadows they'd roam, As twilight descended, they'd find their home, Oh, how it pains me, to see those days lost, Divine silence now, at a heavy cost.

In the realm of devas, quiet prevails, As the world below faces myriad travails, And Krishna, your smile in frames and shrines, Leaves me pondering, in these uncertain times.

Have you set aside blessings for a chosen few? Or will your grace embrace all, old and new? It pains me deeply, this divine refrain, In a world where love and hope should reign.

~Dr Intaj Malek

The Enigma of Divine Quietude

It pains me, this divine silence profound, Gods and goddesses, in quiet, are bound, I look back in anger, with a sense of awe, When harmony thrived, in days we saw.

Cows grazed in meadows, at twilight they'd rest, A world so serene, where hearts were blessed, But now, it pains me, as time takes its toll, Divine silence reigns, in every soul.

In the land of devas, now silence persists, Amidst worldly maladies, it now coexists, Krishna, your smile from the frame and shrine, Leaves me wondering, is the world not thine?

Have you reserved blessings for the elite few? Or is there hope for the world, both old and new? It pains me, Krishna, pains the silence divine, In a world that was once yours and mine.

~ Dr Intaj Malek