#prahlada

☀ Happy Nrsimha Caturdasi ॐ ☀

Prahlada

He roams around the grounds, not noticing the world around him. His thoughts lost in his Narayan, residing in an abode much afar but still present as intimately close as next to his heart. His body belonging to this world as much as a wanderer belongs to one place. Witnessing his pious devotion to the unknown made one yearn: who was this someone who could contain the entirety of your love? who could embrace it completely and envelop you in the peace of acceptance?

These thoughts were the reason why the sight of an unfettered Prahlad attracted admiration as well as envy, long gone in his love, away from the golden bonds of Maya, free from the fear, hopelessness and bitterness it sired. Liberated. Made one wonder what were those acts of altruism in his past life that came to fruition as such high fortunes? Allowed him to achieve the peace of not being affected by the materialism, to be one with the supreme soul in such juvenility. The child's love and resolve, despite all the tribulations casted upon him by his own father, always sparkled brilliantly, as a tiny clay lamp in a stormy, starless night.

How useless the pity of people for someone who never considered his misfortunes. In his thoughts, he probably was one of the most fortunates, and those around him admitted it's truth, free as he was from the debilitating fear of death. How pathetic his father's violence seemed in the face of a faith that could deny the basest laws of creation, deny the fire its scorching nature, deny death its result...

And maybe that faith was the bond which brought the unknown onto the known earth, lighted the raging fury in the gentlest one, all for the salvation of their beloved devotee. The enraged, horrifying form of half man-half lion was one remotest from the kind lotus-eyed, doting, benevolent guardian vision that graced the eyes of those who loved, for who could love the terror this form inspired, this guise that made the abode ofYama seem alluring in comparison.

But that blessed child still proves wrong, those who saw with only their eyes, his love still unbreakable, his faith immovable. He sees his Narayan, as sure as day, in the bloodshed eyes of that unknown horror, and passes his final trial. He loves his Narayan ardently, even when they are present in the form of wrath itself, and finally his Narayan surrenders themselves to him, with arms outstretched, with only love to offer in return of this priceless, pure devotion.

Tagging the mods: @1nsaankahanhai-bkr , @allegoriesinmediasres and @soniaoutloud

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