Devanagari: गुरू चरणी जो मन लावे, ताके सब सुख होय। जय जय सद्गुरू दत्तात्रेय, कृपा करो सुख होय॥
Romanized: Guru Charani Jo Man Laave, Taake Sab Sukh Hoye. Jai Jai Sadguru Dattatreya, Kripa Karo Sukh Hoye.
Translation: One who places their mind at the feet of the Guru attains all happiness. Victory, victory to the True Guru, Lord Dattatreya. Grant us Your grace so we may have peace.
Without you, O Lord who dispels darkness (Tamasi – referring to Tamas, the quality of inertia/ignorance), where would I focus my meditation? You are the completeness (Paurunya) of the sixteen arts/skills (Shodasha Kalas).
Below is a representative version of the aarti as commonly sung. Note: minor regional variants exist; this is a widely used rendering.
Devanagari:
जय योगेश्वर भगवान, जय अचल आनन्दधाम।
अष्टसिद्धि नाहि तेरे, बिना तेरे न कोय काम॥
जय योगेश्वर भगवान, जय गिरीश महेश्वर॥
भव भय हारक तू, करुणा सागर अमर॥
तुम बिना मम जीवन, सूना सब जगत है।
माया-मोह सब छूटे, तेरे चरणों में दश्वि॥
जय योगेश्वर भगवान, जय गिरीश महेश्वर॥
भव भय हारक तू, करुणा सागर अमर॥
Transliteration (IAST-like):
Jaya Yogeshvara Bhagavān, jaya acala ānandadhāma.
Aṣṭasiddhi nāhi tere, binā tere na koy kāma.
Jaya Yogeshvara Bhagavān, jaya Girīśa Maheśvara.
Bhavabhaya hāraka tu, karuṇā sāgara amara.
Tuma binā mama jīvana, sūnā saba jagata hai.
Māyā-moha saba chhuṭe, tere caraṇoṁ meṁ daśvi.
Jaya Yogeshvara Bhagavān, jaya Girīśa Maheśvara.
Bhavabhaya hāraka tu, karuṇā sāgara amara.
(If you prefer a different script or regionally specific variant, state the region and I can provide that version.)
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Om Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai, mangaldayak dev,
Dukhharan sukhdayak, satguru amritdev.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai! jay yogeshwar bhagwan aarti lyrics
Shri Guru charan kamal saroj, arpan hamaar,
Jeevan ke andhakar ko, tu hi kar de nivaas.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Tum bin kaisa jeevan, kaun sahara ho,
Har pal jo dikhaye raah, woh tum hi pyaara ho.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Man ko jo shanti de, trishna ko jo roke,
Bhakti mein jo jeevan ko, anand se bhar de.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Daya ki jyoti jagaon, andhkaar sab mitao,
Har bhed jisko jaano, sabko prem se bulao.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Sada tumhari kripa ho, paap humse door ho,
Sadguru ke charanon se, mil jaaye jeevan ka noor ho.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Om Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai, mangaldayak dev,
Dukhharan sukhdayak, satguru amritdev.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
(Repeat as needed)
Title: The Evening Hymn of Resolve
The sun was setting over the small, dusty village of Ghanapur, painting the sky in hues of burnt orange and deep violet. In the center of the village stood the ancient temple of Lord Shiva, its stone walls weathered by centuries of monsoons and summers.
Eleven-year-old Rohan sat on the temple steps, his head buried in his knees. His bicycle, usually his pride and joy, lay broken beside him. He had saved for months to buy it, and just an hour ago, the chain had snapped irreparably. To a young boy, it felt like the end of the world.
Pandit Harish, the temple priest, emerged from the inner sanctum carrying a brass plate filled with incense and oil lamps. He noticed Rohan’s slumped shoulders. Without you, O Lord who dispels darkness (Tamasi
"Rohan," the old priest called out gently. "The evening Aarti is about to begin. Will you not come inside?"
Rohan looked up, his eyes red. "I don't feel like praying today, Panditji. I worked so hard for that cycle, and now it’s gone. It feels like nothing goes right for me."
Pandit Harish smiled knowingly. He set the plate down on a pedestal and sat next to the boy. "I understand your disappointment. But tell me, do you know the meaning of the Aarti we sing every evening? The one dedicated to Yogeshwar Bhagwan?"
Rohan shook his head. "I just know the tune. I never really thought about the words."
"Then today, you must sing it not with your mouth, but with your understanding," Pandit Harish said. He handed Rohan a small bell. "Come. Stand by the bell. When the rhythm rises, ring it, but listen closely to the lyrics."
Reluctantly, Rohan stood up. The devotees gathered—a handful of farmers and elders. The harmonium began to hum, and the cymbals started their rhythmic clang.
"Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan... Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan..."
The chant began, strong and steady. The devotees sang in unison. Rohan rang the bell, watching the flame of the Aarti dance.
"Listen, Rohan," Pandit Harish whispered during the instrumental interlude. "Yogeshwar means the Lord of Yoga, the Master of Spiritual Discipline. But do you know why we call him that first?"
Rohan stayed silent, listening as the singers moved to the next lines.
"Kailash Pati, Bhole Nath, Vishwanath, Jai Yogeshwar..." In Vedic astrology, Lord Dattatreya is the presiding
"He is the Lord of Kailash," the Priest explained softly. "Kailash is not just a mountain, Rohan. In our scriptures, it represents stability. It is a mountain that stands still while storms rage around it. When you sing 'Kailash Pati', you are asking for the strength to stand firm, even when things break around you."
Rohan looked at his broken bicycle again, then back at the steady flame. The song continued, the tempo increasing.
"Trilochan, Tripurari, Gauri-Pati, Jai Yogeshwar..."
"Trilochan—the three-eyed one," the Priest continued. "He sees the past, the present, and the future. He sees what we cannot. Perhaps your cycle breaking is a lesson for the present, or perhaps it is saving you from a future accident. He sees the bigger picture."
Rohan felt a knot in his chest loosen slightly. He focused on the rhythm.
"Ganga Dhari, Gauri Pati, Jai Yogeshwar..."
"He holds the Ganga in his matted hair," the priest said. "The Ganga is a river of immense force. If it fell directly to earth, it would shatter the land. But Shiva catches it in his hair and gently releases it. He teaches us control. When life gives us a flood of emotions—anger, sadness—we must be like Yogeshwar. We must catch that emotion, hold it, and release it gently, rather than letting it destroy us."
The Aarti reached its crescendo. The drums beat faster, the bells rang louder. The energy in the room shifted. The devotees were clapping, their faces glowing with devotion.
"Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan... Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan..."
Rohan realized
In Vedic astrology, Lord Dattatreya is the presiding deity for the planet Mercury (Budha) and the Guru (Jupiter). Singing this Aarti clears confusion in studies, delays in marriage, and mental instability.
Devanagari: गुरू चरणी जो मन लावे, ताके सब सुख होय। जय जय सद्गुरू दत्तात्रेय, कृपा करो सुख होय॥
Romanized: Guru Charani Jo Man Laave, Taake Sab Sukh Hoye. Jai Jai Sadguru Dattatreya, Kripa Karo Sukh Hoye.
Translation: One who places their mind at the feet of the Guru attains all happiness. Victory, victory to the True Guru, Lord Dattatreya. Grant us Your grace so we may have peace.
Without you, O Lord who dispels darkness (Tamasi – referring to Tamas, the quality of inertia/ignorance), where would I focus my meditation? You are the completeness (Paurunya) of the sixteen arts/skills (Shodasha Kalas).
Below is a representative version of the aarti as commonly sung. Note: minor regional variants exist; this is a widely used rendering.
Devanagari:
जय योगेश्वर भगवान, जय अचल आनन्दधाम।
अष्टसिद्धि नाहि तेरे, बिना तेरे न कोय काम॥
जय योगेश्वर भगवान, जय गिरीश महेश्वर॥
भव भय हारक तू, करुणा सागर अमर॥
तुम बिना मम जीवन, सूना सब जगत है।
माया-मोह सब छूटे, तेरे चरणों में दश्वि॥
जय योगेश्वर भगवान, जय गिरीश महेश्वर॥
भव भय हारक तू, करुणा सागर अमर॥
Transliteration (IAST-like):
Jaya Yogeshvara Bhagavān, jaya acala ānandadhāma.
Aṣṭasiddhi nāhi tere, binā tere na koy kāma.
Jaya Yogeshvara Bhagavān, jaya Girīśa Maheśvara.
Bhavabhaya hāraka tu, karuṇā sāgara amara.
Tuma binā mama jīvana, sūnā saba jagata hai.
Māyā-moha saba chhuṭe, tere caraṇoṁ meṁ daśvi.
Jaya Yogeshvara Bhagavān, jaya Girīśa Maheśvara.
Bhavabhaya hāraka tu, karuṇā sāgara amara.
(If you prefer a different script or regionally specific variant, state the region and I can provide that version.)
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Om Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai, mangaldayak dev,
Dukhharan sukhdayak, satguru amritdev.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Shri Guru charan kamal saroj, arpan hamaar,
Jeevan ke andhakar ko, tu hi kar de nivaas.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Tum bin kaisa jeevan, kaun sahara ho,
Har pal jo dikhaye raah, woh tum hi pyaara ho.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Man ko jo shanti de, trishna ko jo roke,
Bhakti mein jo jeevan ko, anand se bhar de.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Daya ki jyoti jagaon, andhkaar sab mitao,
Har bhed jisko jaano, sabko prem se bulao.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Sada tumhari kripa ho, paap humse door ho,
Sadguru ke charanon se, mil jaaye jeevan ka noor ho.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
Om Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai, mangaldayak dev,
Dukhharan sukhdayak, satguru amritdev.
Jay Yogeshwar Bhagwan, jai!
(Repeat as needed)
Title: The Evening Hymn of Resolve
The sun was setting over the small, dusty village of Ghanapur, painting the sky in hues of burnt orange and deep violet. In the center of the village stood the ancient temple of Lord Shiva, its stone walls weathered by centuries of monsoons and summers.
Eleven-year-old Rohan sat on the temple steps, his head buried in his knees. His bicycle, usually his pride and joy, lay broken beside him. He had saved for months to buy it, and just an hour ago, the chain had snapped irreparably. To a young boy, it felt like the end of the world.
Pandit Harish, the temple priest, emerged from the inner sanctum carrying a brass plate filled with incense and oil lamps. He noticed Rohan’s slumped shoulders.
"Rohan," the old priest called out gently. "The evening Aarti is about to begin. Will you not come inside?"
Rohan looked up, his eyes red. "I don't feel like praying today, Panditji. I worked so hard for that cycle, and now it’s gone. It feels like nothing goes right for me."
Pandit Harish smiled knowingly. He set the plate down on a pedestal and sat next to the boy. "I understand your disappointment. But tell me, do you know the meaning of the Aarti we sing every evening? The one dedicated to Yogeshwar Bhagwan?"
Rohan shook his head. "I just know the tune. I never really thought about the words."
"Then today, you must sing it not with your mouth, but with your understanding," Pandit Harish said. He handed Rohan a small bell. "Come. Stand by the bell. When the rhythm rises, ring it, but listen closely to the lyrics."
Reluctantly, Rohan stood up. The devotees gathered—a handful of farmers and elders. The harmonium began to hum, and the cymbals started their rhythmic clang.
"Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan... Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan..."
The chant began, strong and steady. The devotees sang in unison. Rohan rang the bell, watching the flame of the Aarti dance.
"Listen, Rohan," Pandit Harish whispered during the instrumental interlude. "Yogeshwar means the Lord of Yoga, the Master of Spiritual Discipline. But do you know why we call him that first?"
Rohan stayed silent, listening as the singers moved to the next lines.
"Kailash Pati, Bhole Nath, Vishwanath, Jai Yogeshwar..."
"He is the Lord of Kailash," the Priest explained softly. "Kailash is not just a mountain, Rohan. In our scriptures, it represents stability. It is a mountain that stands still while storms rage around it. When you sing 'Kailash Pati', you are asking for the strength to stand firm, even when things break around you."
Rohan looked at his broken bicycle again, then back at the steady flame. The song continued, the tempo increasing.
"Trilochan, Tripurari, Gauri-Pati, Jai Yogeshwar..."
"Trilochan—the three-eyed one," the Priest continued. "He sees the past, the present, and the future. He sees what we cannot. Perhaps your cycle breaking is a lesson for the present, or perhaps it is saving you from a future accident. He sees the bigger picture."
Rohan felt a knot in his chest loosen slightly. He focused on the rhythm.
"Ganga Dhari, Gauri Pati, Jai Yogeshwar..."
"He holds the Ganga in his matted hair," the priest said. "The Ganga is a river of immense force. If it fell directly to earth, it would shatter the land. But Shiva catches it in his hair and gently releases it. He teaches us control. When life gives us a flood of emotions—anger, sadness—we must be like Yogeshwar. We must catch that emotion, hold it, and release it gently, rather than letting it destroy us."
The Aarti reached its crescendo. The drums beat faster, the bells rang louder. The energy in the room shifted. The devotees were clapping, their faces glowing with devotion.
"Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan... Jai Yogeshwar Bhagwan..."
Rohan realized
In Vedic astrology, Lord Dattatreya is the presiding deity for the planet Mercury (Budha) and the Guru (Jupiter). Singing this Aarti clears confusion in studies, delays in marriage, and mental instability.