Tukaram - The Poet Who Drowned His Verses (Bhakti Yoga)

Dadi: "Guddu, tonight I'll tell you about a poet who drowned his own poems in a river!"

Guddu: "Why would anyone throw away their own poems?"

Dadi: "Because powerful people told him to. His name was Tukaram, and he lived in Maharashtra about 400 years ago. He was just a simple grocer, from a low caste, with no fancy education."

Guddu: "Could he even write poems?"

Dadi: "He didn't just write poems, beta - songs poured out of his heart! Thousands of verses praising Lord Vitthal. He would sing while working in his shop, while walking to the temple, while lying awake at night."

Guddu: "That sounds beautiful."

Dadi: "It was! But the high-caste Brahmins weren't happy. "How can a low-caste grocer write sacred poetry?" they demanded. "He has no Sanskrit education! These verses are wrong - destroy them!""

Guddu: "That's not fair! Good poetry can come from anyone!"

Dadi: "You understand better than those Brahmins did. But Tukaram was humble. He gathered all his manuscripts - years of writing, thousands of verses - and walked to the Indrayani River."

Guddu: "He really threw them away?"

Dadi: "He tied stones to the bundles and threw them into the water. But as he watched them sink, he prayed to Lord Vitthal: "If these are false, let them drown. If they are true, protect them yourself.""

Guddu: "Then what?"

Dadi: "He sat by the river, fasting and praying. One day passed. Three days. Seven days. Thirteen days. The Brahmins celebrated their victory. His followers wept."

Guddu: "Did the poems stay drowned?"

Dadi: "On the thirteenth day, people came running. "The manuscripts! The manuscripts!" Tukaram's poems were floating on the surface of the river - every verse intact, every page preserved! The river itself had become a shrine."

Guddu: "A miracle!"

Dadi: "The Brahmins fell silent. What could they say against a river that returned drowned papers? But Tukaram's lesson wasn't about the miracle. It was about surrender."

Guddu: "What do you mean?"

Dadi: "He said later: "I threw away everything I made. If Vitthal wanted it preserved, he would preserve it. If not, it was worthless anyway. The value was never in my verses - it was in the love that produced them. That love cannot be drowned.""

Guddu: "So he trusted God completely?"

Dadi: "Completely. And his poems survived, beta. To this day, his songs are sung all over Maharashtra. Millions of people find peace in his words. Even Mahatma Gandhi read Tukaram's poetry when he was in prison!"

Guddu: "And all because he let go?"

Dadi: "Exactly. He let go of attachment to his own creation. He let go of his need for recognition. He let go of fighting against those who opposed him. And in letting go, he received everything."

Guddu: "It's like when I stopped trying so hard to win and just had fun playing, and then I actually won!"

Dadi: "Perfect, beta! When you stop gripping things so tightly, they often come back to you freely. Tukaram drowned his poems, and they floated back. He gave up fighting, and he won without a battle."

Guddu: "That's beautiful, Dadi."

Dadi: "His poetry says it best: "You don't need Sanskrit. You don't need lineage. You need only the courage to love completely, even when they try to drown your love in rivers of rejection.""