Born on the eight day of Bhadrapada,
Complexion as dark as the Krishna Paksha, your face radiated
The shine of thousand moons!
Those twinkling eyes were
Filled with love and curiosity.
Oh how you raised your tiny hands
To your mother, asking her to lift you.
Remember how you gurgled in delight when she cradled you
Against her bosom?
Ah! The sweet feeling of motherhood!
Blessed was the day when you were born to remove the evils from mankind and teach love to mortals. Blessed were Devaki and Vasudev,
Blessed were Yashoda and Nanda,
Blessed were the Gopis who
Got a chance to be a part of your childhood.
Ignorance is a bliss, isn't it?
For they never knew that the
Preserver of the world who carries a mace and the Sudarshan chakra
Would now with his small hands
Ask for sweets and butter.
In whose throat is the seat of the Goddess Saraswati, he would be
Talking in gibberish.
In whom the whole universe resides
He would reside in each one's heart.
You know if you were born now,
Perhaps the first thing done would be a picture clicked by the phone.