I spend hours thinking about you,
Hoping to unravel you some day,
Saw you last night, for a moment or two,
There was a flash, fast and fleeting,
Appeared like a young lady, lively and gorgeous,
Long hair, twinkling eyes, bathed in the rain of grace.

Draped elegantly in a saree: bright and white,
Gazed momentarily at me with a soothing smile,
Quickly disappeared in the jungle of my thoughts,
Leaving only a whiff of mystery behind,
And I found myself reminiscing about you again…

The tangled theories play with my head,
Multiple words slip through my senses,
The meanings they offer… are they true?
I wish I knew a way to see for myself,
Whether your eyes reflect a shade of reform,
If your gentle warm whispers speak of rebellion?
And do the flowers on your wrist smell of revolution?

I first heard about you in the womb,
And we kept growing at my home together,
Unaware of my life intertwining with yours,
I caught your glimpses once in a while,
In Ājobā’s nāmasmaraṇa that replaced his sleep,
In the tears that rolled as devotees spoke of their Iṣṭa,
And in the kīrtana that gifted me an unnamed bliss.

Where do I have to go to know more about you?
Should I find you on the routes of the tīrtha yātrā?
Or in the mother’s abode at Pandharpur?
Do you stay in the homes of the Bhaktas?
Or in their everyday duties of Dharma?
Are you near the one who is in Sañjīvana Samādhi?
Or in the joyous singing of Viṭṭhala’s name?

It’s been some time running after you…
How much more do I have to?
At least let me know,
Until when must I follow you?
O Bhakti, to decipher your enigma,
Do you want me to become a good Bhakta?