Prayers about Bharatvarsha (India) and Unity

Himalayam Samaarabhya Yaavadindusarovaram

Tam Devanirmitam Desam Hindusthaanam Prachakshatey.

From the Himalayas all the way to Indian ocean, the Devas created the sacred land called Hindustan

EKATMATA STOTRA

Om Namah Sacchidaananda,

roopaaya paramaatmane

Jyotirmaya Swaroopaaya,

Vishwa Maangalya Moortaye

Om. I bow to the supreme Lord who is the very embodiment of truth, Knowledge and Happiness,the one who is enlightened, and who is the very incarnate of universal good.

Vande maataraM

sujalaaM suphalaaM malayaja shiitalaaM

sasyashyaamalaaM maataraM

shubhrajyotsnaa pulakitayaaminiiM

pullakusumita drumadala shobhiniiM

suhaasiniiM sumadhura bhaashhiNiiM

sukhadaaM varadaaM maataraM

koTi koTi kaNTha kalakalaninaada karaale

koTi koTi bhujai.rdhR^itakharakaravaale

abalaa keno maa eto bale

bahubaladhaariNiiM namaami taariNiiM

ripudalavaariNiiM maataraM

tumi vidyaa tumi dharma

tumi hR^idi tumi marma

tvaM hi praaNaaH shariire

baahute tumi maa shakti

hR^idaye tumi maa bhakti

tomaara i pratimaa gaDi

mandire mandire

tvaM hi durgaa dashapraharaNadhaariNii

kamalaa kamaladala vihaariNii

vaaNii vidyaadaayinii namaami tvaaM

namaami kamalaaM amalaaM atulaaM

sujalaaM suphalaaM maataraM

shyaamalaaM saralaaM susmitaaM bhuushhitaaM

dharaNiiM bharaNiiM maataraM

Meaning

Mother, I bow to thee!

Rich with thy hurrying streams,

bright with orchard gleams,

Cool with thy winds of delight,

Dark fields waving Mother of might,

Mother free.

Glory of moonlight dreams,

Over thy branches and lordly streams,

Clad in thy blossoming trees,

Mother, giver of ease

Laughing low and sweet!

Mother I kiss thy feet,

Speaker sweet and low!

Mother, to thee I bow.

Who hath said thou art weak in thy lands

When the sword flesh out in the seventy million hands

And seventy million voices roar

Thy dreadful name from shore to shore?

With many strengths who art mighty and stored,

To thee I call Mother and Lord!

Though who savest, arise and save!

To her I cry who ever her foeman drove

Back from plain and Sea

And shook herself free.

Thou art wisdom, thou art law,

Thou art heart, our soul, our breath

Though art love divine, the awe

In our hearts that conquers death.

Thine the strength that nervs the arm,

Thine the beauty, thine the charm.

Every image made divine

In our temples is but thine.

Thou art Durga, Lady and Queen,

With her hands that strike and her

swords of sheen,

Thou art Lakshmi lotus-throned,

And the Muse a hundred-toned,

Pure and perfect without peer,

Mother lend thine ear,

Rich with thy hurrying streams,

Bright with thy orchard gleems,

Dark of hue O candid-fair

In thy soul, with jewelled hair

And thy glorious smile divine,

Lovilest of all earthly lands,

Showering wealth from well-stored hands!

Mother, mother mine!

Mother sweet, I bow to thee,

Mother great and free!

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