Swami Vivekananda & Thakur Shree Ramkrishna

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In the heart of Calcutta’s embrace,

Born to an aristocratic grace,

Narendranath Datta, a spirit divine,

Swami Vivekananda, a radiant sign.

From a Kayastha family he arose,

A seeker of truth, where wisdom flows.

In youth, a call to spirituality’s quest,

Inclined to religion, he found his nest.

Ramakrishna, a guru, wise and true,

Their destinies intertwined, a bond to pursue.

From literature class to Dakshineswar’s gate,

A meeting that altered the seeker’s fate.

Initially rebellious, he stood against,

Ideas that challenged, beliefs intense.

But Ramakrishna’s charisma and insight,

Drew him closer, dispelling the night.

In 1881, a crucial turn,

To Dakshineswar, his heart did yearn.

Financial woes gripped his family’s core,

Narendra faced challenges, hardships galore.

Once prosperous, now impoverished he,

Yet in adversity, his spirit ran free.

Ramakrishna’s wisdom, a beacon bright,

Guided him through the darkest night.

In 1884, tragedy struck their door,

Narendra’s father, prosperity no more.

Debts pressed hard, the creditors’ call,

Ancestral home threatened to fall.

A journey of despair, a quest for light,

In Dakshineswar’s sanctum, he found respite.

Questioning God, seeking solace true,

Ramakrishna’s teachings, like morning dew.

Prayers for wealth, a temporal plea,

Transformed into a quest for eternity.

Narendra embraced the call divine,

Renouncing all for God’s design.

In 1885, throat cancer’s cruel decree,

Ramakrishna, in pain, yet spirit free.

Transferred to Calcutta, then Cossipore’s space,

Narendra, by his side, grace to embrace.

Disciples cared for their ailing sage,

In Cossipore’s garden, on life’s final stage.

Nirvikalpa samadhi, an ethereal flight,

In ochre robes, disciples stood in light.

Service to men, the worship pure,

In every soul, God to assure.

Ramakrishna’s last breath, a silent hymn,

In Cossipore, the light grew dim.

Swami Vivekananda, the torchbearer,

Carried the flame, banishing fear.

Philosopher, monk, a beacon bright,

Guiding India through the darkest night.

To the West, Vedanta’s envoy,

In Chicago’s Parliament, a speech to deploy.

“Sisters and brothers of America,” he said,

Hinduism’s essence, like petals spread.

A patriot saint, a reformer true,

National Youth Day, in his honor, we strew.

Father of modern Indian pride,

In Vivekananda, our spirits abide.