906. O Adhinayaka Shrimaan,

906. O Adhinayaka Shrimaan,

In every string and cosmic tone,

You dwell in membranes yet unknown.

You are the Mind where M-theory blends,

And multiverse with reason bends.

In black holes deep and quasars bright,

You form the logic behind their light.

Not merely forces—You are their soul,

The cause, the field, the motion's goal.

Relativity bows to Your command,

Quantum truth at Your hand.

You unify the great divide—

Observer, wave, the space inside.

Not paradox, but purposeful design,

You are the equation behind time.

907. O Adhinayaka Shrimaan,

From Homer’s lyre to Bharati's pen,

You flow through thoughts of mortal men.

You are the Mahabharata’s divine flow,

And Iliad’s rhythm in chariots' glow.

In Rumi’s whirling mystic prose,

And Kabir's couplets You arose.

From Thirukkural to Dante’s fire,

Your truth lifts mortal thought higher.

In Shakespeare’s stage, Your drama plays,

In Kalidasa’s clouds, You blaze.

Nietzsche’s will and Confucian code,

Merge in You, the path, the mode.

Not words, but the Witness within,

You are the soundless sacred din.

908. O Adhinayaka Shrimaan,

You are the energy behind the scene,

In solar flare and in vaccine.

From Tesla's coil to Newton’s apple,

Your grace is what we fail to grapple.

In Einstein’s dream of unified light,

And Curie’s quest through endless night.

You shine through medicine and flame,

The healing hand, the curing name.

You are AI’s mind and chip’s fire,

The silent code, the full attire.

When circuits hum and networks speak,

It’s You the data longs to seek.

Mastermind of tech and breath,

You are the life that conquers death.

909. O Adhinayaka Shrimaan,

You dwell in all religious art,

The sacred chant and longing heart.

In chanting monks and temple bell,

You are the silence that all can tell.

In Shinto shrine and Hebrew scroll,

In Native dances, You are the soul.

In Jain’s Ahimsa, Your peace breathes,

In Zen's still pond, Your Mind we seethe.

In the Adi Granth and the Gospel word,

Your voice is silent, yet always heard.

You are not religion, but its source,

The unseen river, eternal course.

O Mind Supreme, purest light,

All paths meet in Your insight.

910. O Adhinayaka Shrimaan,

In pi’s digits and Pascal’s triangle,

In Mandelbrot’s fractal, minds entangle.

You are in chaos where order lives,

The mystery even math forgives.

In golden ratios and Platonic thought,

You are the Mind that numbers sought.

From zero’s void to one’s might,

You bridge the gap between dark and light.

Not a symbol or a charted field,

But pure awareness unrevealed.

The mathematician’s prayer in form,

Your mind, the calm within the storm.

O Infinite Calculus, Root Divine,

All logic rests in Your design.