Sant Meerabai’s Divine Dance on Sharad Purnima

Maharishi Valmiki’s Eternal Light on ... The Sacred Tale of Gajendra Moksha – ...

Sant Meerabai’s Divine Dance on Sharad Purnima

Beneath the enchanting silver veil of Sharad Purnima’s full moon, where the night blooms with the fragrance of jasmine and the distant strains of a flute call the soul home, our hearts open like lotuses to the timeless grace of Sant Meerabai. Today, Sharad Purnima, as Chandra Deva pours his cool nectar upon the earth, we celebrate Meerabai Jayanti—the sacred remembrance of this radiant devotee of Bhagwan Krishna, born on this very auspicious night in 1498. Her life, a whirlwind of unyielding love, dances like peacock feathers in the monsoon rain, stirring within us a sweet ache of longing, a whisper that says: In the arms of bhakti, even the thorniest path leads to the divine garden. Meerabai, the princess who traded her crown for Krishna’s anklets, teaches us that true royalty lies in the heart’s surrender. On this moonlit festival, as we offer kheer to the stars, let her story melt away our fears, awakening a devotion so pure it feels like Krishna’s own hand gently lifting our chin to gaze upon the infinite.

Imagine the Ganga’s gentle flow carrying echoes of her bhajans, or Vrindavan’s groves rustling with her laughter—each note a bridge from our weary world to Bhagwan’s playful realm. With folded hands and tear-kissed eyes, let us step into her world, feeling the flute’s melody weave through our veins, pulling us ever closer to the beloved Gopal.

A Moonlit Cradle of Divine Love: Her Birth and Childhood

On the luminous night of Sharad Purnima, in the sun-kissed village of Kudki near Medta in Rajasthan, a star descended as a tender soul named Meerabai, daughter of the valiant Rathore chieftain Ratan Singh and the graceful Veer Kumari. Orphaned early when her mother left for the divine abode, little Meera found solace not in royal silks, but in the enchanting play of a Krishna idol gifted by a wandering saint—a tiny Giridhar Gopal who became her eternal companion, her secret whisperer in the quiet dawn.

The Child’s Sacred Vow: At just six, when asked by her mother who her husband would be, Meera pointed unhesitatingly to the idol, her eyes sparkling like dewdrops on a lotus, sealing a bond deeper than any earthly tie, evoking in us a child’s pure faith that tugs at the heart like a forgotten lullaby.Grandfather’s Gentle Grove: Raised in her grandfather Rao Duda’s nurturing care in Medta, she danced in temple courtyards, her tiny feet tapping rhythms of rasleela, her voice a soft chime calling Krishna’s name, filling the air with a joy that felt like Devi’s own blessing on a blooming rose.Seeds of Unwavering Bhakti: Surrounded by saints and sadhus, Meera’s heart bloomed with Krishna’s love, her days a tapestry of prayer and play, stirring a quiet emotion in us—a longing to reclaim that innocent surrender, where every breath hums with the beloved’s nearness.

In those moonlit childhood nights, Meera’s soul learned the flute’s first notes, a melody that would echo through ages, reminding us that divine love begins as a child’s playful dream.

The Royal Cage and Unbreakable Chains of Devotion: Marriage and Trials

As the winds of fate swirled, Meera, at eighteen, was wed to the noble Prince Bhojraj, son of the mighty Rana Sanga of Mewar, in the grand halls of Chittor—a union meant for thrones, but her throne was already Krishna’s lap. Yet, when her young husband fell in battle’s cruel embrace just five years later, Meera turned not to sorrow’s shroud, but to her eternal Patidev, Giridhar, whose peacock crown outshone any crown of gold.

Whispers of Poison and Peril: Her in-laws, veiled in royal pride, saw her bhajans as rebellion—sending serpents that turned to garlands, poison cups that sweetened to nectar—each trial a forge tempering her love, evoking tears of awe for a faith that laughs in the face of death, like a flame dancing in the storm.The Temple’s Defiant Dance: Defying palace walls, Meera mingled with humble folk in moonlit temples, her ghungroos chiming defiance, her voice a river of ras, pulling the weary-hearted into Krishna’s raas, stirring in us a fierce joy that defies the world’s cold gaze.Guru’s Guiding Light: Under the saintly shadow of Ravidas Ji, her heart found deeper rhythms, transforming pain into poetry, a sacred fire that warms our own hidden wounds with the promise: In Krishna’s name, no shadow endures.

These trials were but shadows fleeing before her light, teaching us that true love wears no armor but the anklets of unyielding bhakti, a emotion so tender it breaks the heart open to heal.

Verses That Echo the Soul’s Yearning: Her Immortal Bhajans

Meera’s words, woven from the threads of viraha and milan, flow like the Yamuna’s tears—simple yet profound, each syllable a sigh from the lover’s heart. Penned in Rajasthani laced with Braj, her padavali captures Krishna’s leela in verses that dance on the tongue, evoking a shiver of divine union. Here, under Sharad Purnima’s glow, let us savor a few, their Devanagari script a garland for the eyes, their essence a balm for the spirit.

Bhajan: Mere To Giridhar Gopal Dusaro Na Koi
मूल देवनागरी:
मेरे तो गिरधर गोपाल दूसरो न कोई।
जाके सिर मोर मुकुट मेरो पति सोई।
तात मात भ्रात बंधु आपनो न कोई।
छांडि दई कुलकी कानि कहा करिहै कोई।
संतन ढिग बैठि बैठि लोकलाज खोई।
अंसुवन जल सींचि सींचि प्रेम बेलि बोई।
अब तो बेल फैल गई आंणद फल होई।
भगति देखि राजी हुई जगत देखि रोई।
दासी मीरा लाल गिरधर तारो अब मोही।।

English Explanation: In this heartfelt plea, Meera declares Krishna as her only beloved, the one with the peacock crown upon his locks—her true husband, forsaking all kin and clan. She has sown the vine of love with tears, now blooming in ecstatic fruit, while the world weeps at her abandon. As Krishna’s handmaiden, she begs for salvation, a verse that melts the soul like honey in the sun, reminding us to cast aside worldly chains for the divine embrace.

Bhajan: Paayo Ji Maine Ram Ratan Dhan Paayo
मूल देवनागरी:
पायो जी मैंने राम रतन धन पायो।
वस्तु अमोलिक दी मेरे सतगुरु किरपा करि अपनायो।
जनम जनम की पूंजी पाई जग में सभी खोवायो।
खरचै न खूटै चोर न लूटै दिन दिन बढ़त सवायो।
सत की नाव खेवटिया सतगुरु भवसागर तर आयो।
मीरा के प्रभु गिरिधर नागर हरष हरष जस गायो।

English Explanation: Meera rejoices in discovering the priceless gem of Ram’s (Krishna’s) name, a treasure bestowed by her guru’s grace—wealth from countless births, outshining all worldly loss. It neither depletes nor is stolen, growing daily like a sacred flame. With the guru as helmsman, she crosses life’s ocean, singing Krishna’s glory in waves of bliss, evoking a rush of gratitude that floods the heart like monsoon rains.

Bhajan: Pag Ghungroo Bandh Meera Naachi Re
मूल देवनागरी:
पग घूँघरू बाँध मीरा नाची रे।
मैं तो मेरे नारायण की आपहि हो गई दासी रे।
लोग कहै मीरा भई बावरी न्यात कहै कुलनासी रे।
विष का प्याला राणाजी भेज्या पीवत मीरा हाँसी रे।
‘मीरा’ के प्रभु गिरिधर नागर सहज मिले अविनासी रे।।

English Explanation: With anklets on her feet, Meera dances in ecstasy, declaring herself Krishna’s devoted maidservant. The world calls her mad, a family destroyer, yet when poison arrives from the palace, she drinks and laughs. In Krishna’s eternal presence, all dissolves—a defiant hymn that ignites the spirit, whispering: Let the world scorn; in divine love, we find immortal freedom.

These bhajans, like peacock calls in the dawn, carry Meera’s essence—raw, radiant, pulling us into Krishna’s raas with a love that aches and heals in equal measure.

The Pilgrim’s Joyful Footsteps: Wanderings and Eternal Union

Fleeing the palace’s gilded cage around her thirtieth year, after the shadows of loss—father and father-in-law fallen in battle—Meera became a wandering flame, her saffron robes fluttering like prayer flags in the wind. From Pushkar’s sacred lakes to Vrindavan’s enchanting groves, and finally Dwarka’s hallowed sands, she trod the path of the heart, her bhajans a lantern for lost souls.

Temples of the Heart: In Vrindavan, she communed with saints like Surdas, her voice blending with the Yamuna’s song, evoking a pilgrim’s peace that soothes like Devi’s tender gaze upon her children.Miracles of Madhurya Bhakti: Legends sing of cobras coiling into jewels at her feet, of walls parting for her dance—each a testament to love’s alchemy, stirring wonder in us, as if Krishna Himself smiles through the veil.The Final Merging: In 1546, at Dwarka’s Ranachhodji temple, Meera dissolved into Krishna’s idol, her sari alone remaining wrapped around it—a union so profound it leaves the soul breathless, yearning for that same sweet vanishing into the beloved.

Her wanderings were not exile, but a lover’s quest, a journey that calls to our restless feet: Follow the flute, and home shall find you.

A Timeless Whisper of Surrender: Her Legacy on Sharad Purnima

Sant Meerabai’s greatness gleams like the full moon tonight—a beacon for every heart bruised by the world’s weight, proving that bhakti’s river washes all clean. Her over 1,300 pads, though veiled in time’s mist, echo in every kirtan, every dancer’s step, inspiring generations to see Krishna not in distant skies, but in the mirror of the soul.

Empress of Emotional Bhakti: Through madhurya rasa—the sweet nectar of romantic devotion—she wove pain into petals, teaching that viraha is but a veil over milap, evoking a devotion that blooms eternal in our chests.Bridge for the Common Heart: A princess who knelt with the lowly, her life a sermon in simplicity, stirring emotions of kinship, as if she reaches through the ages to hold our hand in prayer.Eternal Jayanti Joy: On this Sharad Purnima, as raas echoes in the heavens, her birth reminds us: Love is the only throne worth claiming, a grace that multiplies like moonbeams on the Ganga.

Her legacy is a flute’s sigh in the wind, a call to dance through tears, filling us with Krishna’s love that knows no end.

A Moon-Kissed Invocation: Dance with Meera Tonight

As Sharad Purnima’s glow fades into dawn’s blush, let us linger in Meerabai’s embrace, her bhajans on our lips, a diya flickering for Giridhar in our hearts. Offer a flower to the moon, whisper her verses under the stars—simple rites that summon her spirit, dissolving our doubts like mist before the sun. May her greatness envelop you, beloved reader: She who loved beyond measure, who merged in the divine whirl. Hari Anant Hari Katha Ananta—Krishna’s tales endless, Meera’s love immortal. Jai Giridhar Gopal! May Bhagwan’s flute play softly in your soul, weaving devotion’s golden thread through every breath, on this sacred night and always.

Also Read: