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Prayer to Lord Muruga

1. Hey Muruga! Thou art the most cruel and
hot-headed monster,
Because thou did not suck the milk of
one single mother
But grew up in the milk of six mothers,
And thus developed aristocrat heads, deaf to prayers
Of Bhaktas like me poor in strength, wealth and joy,
With petitions manifold and diverse, ever and anon,
But return despondent, mortification writ large,
All due to Thine cruel heart and puffed-up pride.

2. How can I expect nobility and softness with Thee?
Thou art born in a family of worst destitution.
Thine father lives in burning ghats,
Thine mother is the worst juggler in
heavens and earth,
Thine uncle is the worst thief and vagabond,
Thine brother is a swell-headed and
pot-bellied glutton.
How can I expect mercy, kindness and
protection from Thee?

3. People blindly say of Thee as the crest-jewel
of all worlds,
Both here and hereafter; how can I believe them
When my experience belies the truth of their praises?
Thou art proclaimed as the destroyer of
Asuras of yore.
But I find Thee withholding protection for me
in sorrows
Or silent of encouragement of future help.
Teach me the language used in your praise
And find out the meaning of the holy word,
Which Thou Thyself imparted to Thine father Siva.
Om Namah Saravanabhavaya.


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