24. Om nava vidruma bimba sri nyakkari radana cchadayai namah: I bow down to Amma whose lips excel freshly cut coral and bimba fruit in their reflective splendor
What is the color of Kindness? What hue is worn by Grace? What tint of white does Compassion cloak Herself with?
There are no colors that surround Amma, except during the rare and much looked forward to Devi bhava. Amma's perfectly white saree is in itself, an expression of Her purity. Even the blemishes left behind by us, Her devotees, seem to seek Her forgiveness. The only color I associate with Amma, is white. The whiteness of Her being. The whiteness of Her love. The whiteness of her benevolence.
Yet, there are colors straining to reach out to Her. Like the redness of rubies. Or the Crimson cut coral and bimba fruits. But every color pales in comparison to Amma whose cloak of compassion, is the immaculate. New beginnings. Light. White. No red can even hope to hold a drop to Her. How can a color that embellishes a stone or even a fruit, stand a chance? For these lips have consoled millions. They've spoken endearments like a mother to Her children. They've scolded those who may have looked to stray. They've promised a horizon to those looking to the future. They've answered questions about business, families, moral decisions and even seemingly minor issues like which school to attend. They've solved problems, issued forth answers, taken events to their rightful conclusion. They've stopped tears and created a world that believes in humanity.
These lips of Amma's: they've spoken the word of creation to us many times over. And yes, they may not be red. But Amma's brilliance can't be defined in a color. It has the power to burst through all levels of creation and overtake the universe. It has the power to wrap the world in silken sheets of compassion.
What chance did the fruit have, ever?
Om Amriteswariye namah!
What is the color of Kindness? What hue is worn by Grace? What tint of white does Compassion cloak Herself with?
There are no colors that surround Amma, except during the rare and much looked forward to Devi bhava. Amma's perfectly white saree is in itself, an expression of Her purity. Even the blemishes left behind by us, Her devotees, seem to seek Her forgiveness. The only color I associate with Amma, is white. The whiteness of Her being. The whiteness of Her love. The whiteness of her benevolence.
Yet, there are colors straining to reach out to Her. Like the redness of rubies. Or the Crimson cut coral and bimba fruits. But every color pales in comparison to Amma whose cloak of compassion, is the immaculate. New beginnings. Light. White. No red can even hope to hold a drop to Her. How can a color that embellishes a stone or even a fruit, stand a chance? For these lips have consoled millions. They've spoken endearments like a mother to Her children. They've scolded those who may have looked to stray. They've promised a horizon to those looking to the future. They've answered questions about business, families, moral decisions and even seemingly minor issues like which school to attend. They've solved problems, issued forth answers, taken events to their rightful conclusion. They've stopped tears and created a world that believes in humanity.
These lips of Amma's: they've spoken the word of creation to us many times over. And yes, they may not be red. But Amma's brilliance can't be defined in a color. It has the power to burst through all levels of creation and overtake the universe. It has the power to wrap the world in silken sheets of compassion.
What chance did the fruit have, ever?
Om Amriteswariye namah!
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