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Many stories do flowers tell:

Let the Jasmine tell mine,

Oh Chennamallikarjuna 

Accept my words,

The spark of my soul’s yearning,

Roughened diamonds tinged

With coal dust, they are,

Let them be my homage to Siva,

Said, Mahadevi Akka. 


The scents and sights 

Of this world crowd my mind,

Which I choose to resign.

Transitory is my stay,

I seek to step out of the many skins

Of life -into Siva’s abode. 

People’s words I shun 

Because I choose to return.

Let me taste the sweetness of divinity.


You may call me a woman weak,

A mystic or saint

Whose words are a treasure 

Hidden in the bowels of earth.

I name myself a bhaktin,

(A soul seeking to see beyond many veils).

Lost in worship, my arrow-like

 Soul loses its essence when 

 plunging into the Divine sea.


Mumtaz N Khorakiwala


Picture courtesy: Birmingham Museum

Mahadevi Akka is a 12th century Saint, mystic from Karnataka who like Andal, or Lala Ded believed that Divinity was beyond gender.


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