Here i yearn in the form of ramblings/poems and just posts about my beloved Vasudeva🤍🪷
(i use this emoji combo excessively for him^^)
Glimpses Of Me
Poems
Haye Mere Priye Madhav🪷
Heart's Calling
Mere Shyam Sundar Rakh lo Brij Mein
Shyam Naam
Mann Mora Atak Gayo
Loot liyo, more Kanhaiya Laal ne
Prose
maa adi shakti
All for you, Only for you
The Weaver of the Cosmos
Kanha&J
Whispers of the brass bells on ankles (series)
SYNOPSIS: what happens when the flute bearer belonging to the upper echelon, on one side of the royal court finds the eyes on the other side of the court, adorned by the blackness of kohl and fixated on matching her feet with the practiced tatkaar, each step falling on the royal court making her ghungrus ring a melody pairing with the music?…..
Prologue
chapter 1 : under the auric skies
chapter 2: Honey Glaze
chapter 3: Mahogany
chapter 4 : Red
Short stories (Krishnaxreader!!)
Ye dewanapann mujhe le doobe//this obsession will be the end of me♡♡
You said you love me like there's no tomorrow, but tomorrow never came...
Giampaolo Tomassetti, an acclaimed contemporary Italian painter (also known by his spiritual name, Jnananjana Dasa), spent 5 years studying the Sanskrit epic and 12 years creating a series of large-scale oil paintings that visually narrate the core events of the Mahabharata.
Vishnu and Durga Krishna says in Bhagavad-Gita (9.10): “The material nature is working under My direction and producing all moving and nonmoving beings #prabhupada #srilaprabhupada #spdailyquotes #krishna #devotion #bhakti #iskcon #vaishnav
Vishnu and Durga Krishna says in Bhagavad-Gita (9.10): “The material nature is working under My direction and producing all moving and nonmoving beings #prabhupada #srilaprabhupada #spdailyquotes #krishna #devotion #bhakti #iskcon #vaishnav
so I made this story based on the idea given by @shimkey-blog and @mimaridoesmurari . Though I didn't make him eat kheer but kheer is in the story my guys.
Can you see that I am jobless? 😃 In Dora voice )
Ananya was firmly convinced that her mother deserved some kind of national award for surviving years of making kheer without once losing her mind. There was simply no other explanation. No ordinary human being could possibly stand in front of boiling milk for hours, stir continuously, calculate sugar by instinct, roast nuts without burning them, and still emerge from the kitchen looking peaceful and spiritually fulfilled. It was unnatural. Divine, perhaps. Genetic, unfortunately not.
Because Ananya, meanwhile, was suffering.
By the time she realized she had made a terrible mistake, the milk was already boiling over with horrifying confidence. One moment the kheer had been simmering peacefully in the brass vessel, thick and creamy beneath the warm kitchen light, looking deceptively innocent, and the next moment it surged upward dramatically like it had suddenly gained consciousness and chosen violence. Froth spilled over the sides of the vessel in thick white streams and hissed loudly against the hot stove while Ananya lunged forward with a scandalized gasp that sounded far too betrayed for a grown woman reacting to dessert.
“Ugh, God, why are you like this?” she groaned while fumbling desperately with the flame. “I looked away for literally two seconds. Why can’t you just stay calm for once?”
The kitchen answered only with steam.
Warmth clung stubbornly to every inch of the apartment, thick with the smell of boiled milk, cardamom, sugar, and roasted nuts. Saffron threads floated through the kheer like dissolving streaks of sunset while ghee roasted cashews cooled nearby on a steel plate, their buttery smell blending into the sweetness until the entire apartment smelled like Janmashtami at her grandmother’s house. Outside, rain rolled lazily down the windows in silver trails while thunder murmured faintly across the dark evening sky. Somewhere below, children were still yelling over a cricket match despite the rain, their voices drifting upward through the damp air with the kind of dedication only Indian children possessed during monsoon season.
Meanwhile, inside the apartment, Ananya was fighting for her life against dairy products.
She leaned heavily against the kitchen counter for a moment and closed her eyes. Cooking kheer always sounded deeply spiritual in theory. People spoke about it with reverence, like it was some sacred domestic ritual filled with devotion and warmth and nostalgia. Nobody ever mentioned the emotional damage involved. Nobody warned her that milk behaved like an emotionally unstable villain the second you stopped paying attention to it. Nobody explained that one sweet dish could somehow destroy mental stability, upper body strength, and self respect simultaneously.
Her braid had nearly fallen apart by now, strands of hair sticking stubbornly to her face while the sleeves of her old cotton kurta remained rolled unevenly to her elbows. There was sugar scattered across the counter, milk dripping down the sides of the stove, and a small burn near her wrist from where steam had attacked her earlier. The kitchen looked less like a place of devotion and more like the aftermath of a deeply emotional argument between her and lactose.
Still, the kheer smelled wonderful.
That was honestly the most offensive part.
The rice had softened perfectly into the milk, turning thick and velvety beneath her spoon while the sweetness deepened slowly with every stir. Every now and then the smell would hit her unexpectedly and drag old memories to the surface without permission. Festival evenings. Temple bells echoing softly through crowded streets. Her grandmother sitting cross legged on the floor stringing jasmine flowers. Her mother standing over the stove insisting very seriously that food absorbed the emotions of the person cooking it.
“If the cook is peaceful,” her mother used to say, “the dessert tastes peaceful.”
At this point, Ananya was fairly certain this kheer had absorbed enough emotional instability to become self aware.
She sighed tiredly and resumed stirring, slower this time, watching the thickened milk move lazily around the vessel while rain tapped steadily against the windows. The apartment had grown quieter now except for the soft bubbling of the kheer and the distant sounds of traffic below. Then somewhere behind her, very softly, someone laughed.
Not loudly. Not suddenly. Just softly enough to send immediate irritation through her spine.
Ananya closed her eyes immediately.
“No,” she said firmly to absolutely nobody. “I refuse.”
“A strong reaction,” came the amused voice behind her, warm as candlelight and entirely too entertained already. “And I haven’t even done anything yet.”
She turned around slowly and there he was.
Krishna sat comfortably on the kitchen counter beside the rain streaked window like he had always belonged there. The dim silver evening light settled softly around him while rain scented wind drifted through the open window, stirring dark curls around his face. The peacock feather behind his ear shifted gently every time the breeze touched it, and gold ornaments gleamed softly against warm dusky skin beneath the dim kitchen lights.
He looked entirely too peaceful for someone committing theft.
Because in his hand was her plate of roasted cashews.
Or rather, what remained of it.
Ananya narrowed her eyes immediately.
“You’re eating the garnish.”
Krishna glanced down at the handful of cashews in his palm before calmly eating another one. “I’m preserving quality,” he replied without a trace of shame.
“You are stealing.”
“That feels unnecessarily judgmental.”
“You ate half the plate!”
“I was helping with quantity control.”
Ananya stared at him in exhausted disbelief. There were very few things more frustrating than arguing with Krishna because he carried the confidence of someone who had spent centuries escaping consequences successfully. He looked entirely too comfortable in her tiny kitchen, and that was another deeply irritating thing. The apartment itself was small, barely enough space for one person some days. Narrow counters. Old cabinets. Yellow lights that flickered occasionally whenever it rained too heavily. And yet somehow the second Krishna appeared, the entire place felt fuller. Warmer. Like the kitchen itself relaxed around him.
Which was objectively unfair considering he contributed absolutely nothing except theft, commentary, and emotional instability.
“You look troubled,” he observed casually after a moment while watching her return to the stove.
“I am troubled.”
“The kheer attacked me.”
Krishna looked genuinely thoughtful at that. “That seems avoidable.”
“You weren’t here when it happened.”
“A tragedy.”
“It was traumatic.”
A smile tugged slowly at the corner of his mouth then, small and unhurried, and annoyingly enough it softened something inside her immediately. Ananya turned away before he could notice. Unfortunately, Krishna noticed everything. That was perhaps the worst thing about him. Nothing escaped him. Not the extra spoon of sugar she added unconsciously. Not the way she hummed softly while stirring. Not even the fact that she had started making slightly larger portions these days without fully realizing why.
Krishna leaned comfortably against the counter while rain murmured softly outside. “You know,” he remarked after a while, “most people making prasad usually chant something devotional.”
“I am chanting.”
“Hm?”
“I’m repeatedly chanting ‘why did I decide to do this.’”
Krishna looked delighted. “That counts as suffering, not devotion.”
“There’s a difference?”
“A significant one.”
Before she could respond, the milk suddenly rose again. Ananya gasped violently and lunged toward the stove. “Oh no you DON’T.” The kheer bubbled aggressively like it had accepted the challenge personally. Ananya pointed the spoon at it immediately. “Don’t start.”
Krishna burst into laughter.
Not fair. Absolutely not fair.
Because his laughter always ruined her ability to stay properly annoyed. It filled the tiny kitchen too easily, warm and bright and deeply distracting, slipping through the smell of cardamom and rain until even the walls themselves seemed softer somehow.
“You’re enjoying this,” she accused suspiciously.
“Immensely.”
“You are a terrible person.”
“Historically inaccurate statement.”
“You emotionally harass me every evening.”
“And yet,” he said thoughtfully while reaching for another cashew, “you continue cooking enough dessert for two.”
The sentence landed softly between them, quiet enough that it almost disappeared beneath the sound of rain. Ananya immediately looked away and pretended to focus very intensely on stirring because annoyingly enough, he was right. Somewhere along the way she had unconsciously started preparing extra portions. An extra bowl beside the stove. More nuts than necessary. More sugar than she normally used. As though some quiet hidden part of her expected him to appear eventually.
Which was ridiculous.
Because this was literally Krishna. Cosmic deity. Destroyer of egos. Beloved of millions. And yet most evenings he chose to sit in her kitchen stealing ingredients and criticizing her cooking technique like a retired uncle with unlimited free time.
“You’re stirring too aggressively,” he informed her after a while.
Ananya closed her eyes slowly. “I need you to understand something very important.”
“Hm?”
“One day I genuinely will throw this spoon at your head.”
“That would become an extremely controversial religious event.”
“You deserve controversy.”
Krishna looked deeply pleased by that response while rain continued falling steadily outside and the kitchen slowly filled with warmth and sweetness. Milk simmered softly on the stove while thunder rolled somewhere far away across the dark evening sky. Gradually, without her realizing it, the atmosphere softened. Because beneath all the teasing and irritation, there was something strangely comforting about him simply being there. Watching her cook. Stealing ingredients. Filling the apartment with laughter and noise instead of silence.
For a while neither of them spoke. Krishna simply watched her quietly while she stirred the thickened kheer, and somehow those moments always affected her most. Because when Krishna stopped joking, his attention became unbearably gentle. The kind that noticed loneliness too easily. The kind that made empty spaces feel occupied.
After a while he glanced toward the vessel again where the kheer had finally thickened into soft golden sweetness.
“It smells nice,” he admitted quietly.
Ananya blinked in surprise. “That’s suspiciously normal behavior from you.”
“I am capable of normal behavior.”
“You once compared my rotis to damaged geography.”
“They lacked emotional stability.”
“Rotis cannot have emotional instability.”
“You’ve clearly never seen your own cooking process.”
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it, and Krishna immediately looked unbearably pleased with himself again. Deeply suspicious behavior.
Then after a moment his expression softened slightly as he watched her stir the kheer more gently now.
“You always cook like someone is going to stay,” he said quietly.
The spoon slowed slightly in her hand.
Outside, thunder rolled softly through the rain while inside the kitchen suddenly felt smaller somehow. Warmer.
Ananya looked down at the kheer to avoid his eyes. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does to me.”
His voice had gone softer now, stripped of its usual teasing, and somehow that always affected her more. Because when Krishna stopped joking, it always felt like the entire world leaned closer to listen.
“You put too much effort into food for someone living alone,” he continued quietly. “People who expect loneliness eventually stop cooking properly.”
Something tightened unexpectedly inside her chest. The kitchen smelled overwhelmingly sweet now, thick with milk and cardamom and rain soaked air drifting through the windows.
“You say strange things,” she murmured softly.
“I say correct things.”
Comfortable silence settled gently between them after that, the kind that made her suddenly aware of tiny things. The warmth of the stove against her skin. The sound of rain against glass. The soft chiming of the anklets around his feet whenever he shifted slightly against the counter.
And somewhere inside all of it, something painfully tender settled quietly into her chest. Not devotion. Not longing. Something smaller. Softer.
Like the relief of not feeling alone in the kitchen anymore.
Btw, y'all may have heard that in shakta traditions,Krishna is considered a form of Kali.
Krishnakali is the combined form of Krishna and Kali. This is mentioned in the Devi Bhagvata Purana where Kali is said to have taken the form of Krishna,and in the order of the das Mahavidyas,Kali is associated to Krishna.
Krishna is also often considered the male form of Lalita Tripura Sundari. According to the Padma Purana and Narada Purana,and is worshipped by sadhaks in the combined form of Gopala Sundari
They are the same Guna, after all. Vishnu and Kali both being the Tamsik Guna. Like how both Lakshmi and Brahma are Rajsik, and Saraswati and Shiva being Sattvik
Also btw, what do you mean by it explaining Mahadev's attraction to Vishnu?
Him being all smitten by Mohini, enough to give birth to a son from that union.
Him turning into a gopi (Gopeshwar Mahadev) to witness the rasleela of Shri Krishna.
I see the trinity(male and female) both as energies. For me, that's how every soul is. Just energy. Helps me explain why homosexuals exist. Because it's energy, doesn't matter if it's a male body or a female body. You'd be attracted to it because your frequency is matched with their frequency at the beginning of time.
Anyway, about Shivji and Vishnuji you can see how they complement each other. Shri Ram worships Shivji and Shivji's ansh Hanuman is a devotee of Shri Ram. It's a mutual exchange of energies.
Yes, Shiva and Vishnu are often considered inseparable aspects of the same Truth. Hence the existence of their HariHar depiction.
But Mohini and Shiva aren't always depicted as having any attraction necessarily, since Ayyappa's birth was primarily out of need, rather than want. Not to mention, it does also feel weird to bring up Ram and Hanuman Ji in this context and mentioning Hanuman as Shiva (since, again, Shiva is attracted to Vishnu's energy, but Hanuman Ji is a celibate)
But, uh... Why'd you need to think of homosexuality and heterosexuality in terms of just energy in the form of souls matching frequency? Isn't that implying the old homophobic argument of "You just haven't met the right (insert opposite gender) yet?".
Also, what does that imply about AroAce people, like me? People who don't feel attraction the way most others do? What about our souls? Our energies' frequency?
Also, if it's about Vishnu and Kali being the same energy, I find it interesting that this hasn't been applied to the Others of the Trinity, like Parvati with Saraswati (same Guna as Shiva), or Vishnu and Brahma (same Guna as Lakshmi).
I was just trying to make some sense out of my spiritual beliefs and connecting them to the gods in some way. But in my head it all makes sense, maybe not so much when said out loud. I'm open to new ideas.
I clearly mentioned Hanuman as a devotee of Shri Ram. There's no attraction there. But devotion too is a sort of love I suppose. Or maybe that was Shiv being close to his Shakti.
And by what I said about homosexuality is that, if you're a female and you're attracted to another female, that could be because it's the energies in both of you calling out to each other. Just like it would for someone's who's straight for the opposite sex. How did whatever I said imply that I meant "you haven't met the right person yet" remark.
For aroaces, I believe they either operate at a frequency that doesn't have a match. Either because their soul mate has attained moksh. And they themselves are on the journey to attain moksh. Personally, although I love celebrating love, I'm also of the opinion that it is a sansarik trap. It's moh(attachment). Although, in few cases, you can even find both partners trying to attain moksh or enlightenment together. Like Rishi Atri and Mata Anusuya. Or Rishi Vashisht and Mata Arundhati.
Oh yeah the last part is an interesting thing to think about. I do have an answer to that.
ok so i think what @randomx123 is trying to ask is that as per you, Shiva is attracted to Mohini because Vishnu and Kali are from the same tattva. So by that logic, Vishnu should be attracted to Brahma, since same tattva as Lakshmi, and Brahma with Shiva, no?
I clearly mentioned Hanuman as a devotee of Shri Ram. There's no attraction there. But devotion too is a sort of love I suppose. Or maybe that was Shiv being close to his Shakti.
but in your reblog above, you yourself stated that this "explains Shiva's attraction to Vishnu and his avatars". And idk what Shiva being close to his shakti has to do with ram and hanuman so im kinda confused abt that.
Also how does Surya and Indra being Adityas make them Narayan? And how is Lakshmi Shachi?
Astrology keeps planets divided between masculine, feminine and neutral. it has nothing to do with tattvas. Chandra is feminine due to various reasons, one of which is that it's considered to embody the divine feminine. And Surya and Chandra both are sattva guna planets, though Shukra is rajas guna.
idk about other sects, but Lakshmi and Brahma are considered siblings since they came out of Mahalakshmi in a pair, in shaktism. same with the other 2 pairs. plus all of these sibling pairs have the same tattva.
The main thing that random was trying to say is that your logic about same tattva regarding Vishnu and Kali also should be applied to the rest of the pairs in the trinity right? just trying to understand what you meant since im confused
We have so many aroaces here on tumblr. How do you all not understand the word "attraction"? When I use the word attraction, it is that magnetic sort of attraction. The reason can be anything. Romantic, platonic, familial, devotion, servitude.
Look that's just my understanding of these energies/tattva.
To answer your questions -
Surya is called Suryanarayan in my culture. Lakshmi is called Patal nivasini. Logically it makes sense, because all the gems and metals come from deep under the earth. She took birth as Pulomi/Shachi. And yes Lakshmi and Brahma are siblings. And they're in those other lives as well. Like Vishnu and Shakti being siblings in their lives. Shanta (Ram's older sister) was also said to be Shakti. Yashoda's daughter, who was replaced with Krishna, is also a form of Shakti. I know very little of Maa Saraswati's forms/avatars.
Additionally, Chandra nakshatras are - Rohini (eyes, vision), Hasta(hands, create) and Shravan(ears, sound). Rohini's deity is Brahma himself. And Chandra is exalted in Rohini. Is that not Brahma energy? Venus in western astrology is seen as feminine, and is a roman counterpart of Lakshmi. Hope that explains?
So yes the theory about sibling pairs and their tattva does apply
How you use the term "attraction" does not define it. How you try to explain smth to yourself is not necessarily how it truly is always.
I have never heard of Mohini instilling attraction in the form of devotion/servitude (Also, tf you mean attraction in the form of servitude? The implications are fucked up. Where's your Critical Thinking?). I genuinely feel like you're changing your stance with every reblog atp...
So many AroAces? So many people whose partners attained moksha/are abt to attain moksha acc to you? So many people who actually know that attraction is not the term used to describe platonic/familial attraction. Does Mohini incite physical attraction too? What about Aesthetic? Or intellectual, perhaps? Because being AroAce isn't just no romantic/sexual attraction. There's ppl who are that and also gay/bi/pan or hell, Polyamorous too! I wonder why souls nowadays don't connect with multiple others like back in the era of Draupadi and the Pandavas?
Also, about homosexuality... If you say that it's entirely because the souls' frequency matches, what's stopping homophobes from using this as an excuse to say that the person's soul can match frequency with that of a person of the opposite sex, they just have to try looking harder? And what about straight people too? Imagine if I met a straight guy who can't get dates with girls, and download Grindr onto his phone for him? And honestly, if souls only matched with one person at a time, remarriages wouldn't be a thing.
Lakshmi being Patal-nivasini does make sense. Some Puranas mention this. Precious metals and minerals come from the underworld (The reason why Pluto and Ploutos are Gods of Wealth and the Underworld). It's similar to Kubera too. And there's also the connection of Rice (The plant we believe She resides in).
But I've genuinely never heard of Lakshmi and Poulomi (or rather Shachi, since She is called Poulomi for being Puloman's daughter) being considered one and the same. Nor could I find any scripture where it's mentioned. Same for Shukra (and Bali) being Brahma. These seem to be more of interpolation rather than what's directly mentioned, if I'm not wrong? In which case... If they're Brahma because they are seen as Her brothers, why not Airavat or Uchhraisravan too? He was born from the Samudra Manthan, as Lakshmi's brother in the same sense as Chandradev. And who's Shanta? There's no such character in the Valmiki Ramayan or even Krittibas Ramayan
As someone who knows JACK SHIT about coding, my housemate helped me a lot with the programming part LOL.
I've been working on it for a while, and it's NOT AT ALL COMPLETE, in fact, it is only the very beginning. As we know, such websites are forever under construction. I want to launch it now so you can sign Krishna's guestbook and let him know what you think of his lil web house, and also follow along in my journey of making this website.
I will be reblogging everytime I have a major update. You can also follow him (me) on Neocities! :D
A few things about this AU and the website:
It is more of an art gallery and an archive of stuff Krishna found on the WWW back in the day.
Neocities in this AU has existed since the '90s. GeoCities didn't exist uwu never heard of it.
The guestbook erased all the entries before 2025 due to a bug. So every entry is new and from 2026. Sad, I know. This happened due to the several website upgrades Bravenet had over the years. The link didn't expire, but the guestbook entries did.
Yes, Krishna is still actively running the website. He will reply to the guestbook entries as his adult self now because it's the current day.
The bookmark thingy doesn't work the way it used to, due to built-in bookmark options on the browsers themselves. So you'll receive a pop-up/alert from your browser that says, "Press ctrl+d to finish bookmarking this page". So if you wanna bookmark it the old-fashioned way, just click "OK".
The email button is for show only.
Sources I used graphics from (many of these links are from tumblr blogs that found these graphics from Geocities users):
1. Blinkies Cafe
2. Smolpxl
3. @/galactic-graphix
4. Glitter-graphics
5. @/astrids-angel
6. @/powerfulwizard
7. @/sperocordolium
8. @oldwww (have in general used a few of their finds)
9. @/webhoards (have in general used a few of their finds)
