Brahmadayah Suragana

Lord Brahma and the demigods, the sages and the perfected beings, though fixed exclusively in the mode of goodness, have still, even now, been unable to worship him adequately with their many flowing praises of his qualities. How, then, could that same Lord Hari be pleased by me, born in a family of fierce demons?

I consider that wealth, high birth, beauty, austerity, education, influence, might, valour, intelligence, and mystic power are of no use whatsoever in worshipping the Supreme Person; for the Lord was fully satisfied by mere devotion offered by the king of elephants.

I consider a dog-eater whose mind, words, activities, wealth and very life are dedicated to the lotus-naveled Lord to be superior to a brahmana endowed with twelve good qualities but averse to his lotus feet, for the dog-eater purifies his whole family, whereas the proud brahmana, puffed up by his own greatness, does not.

This Lord, ever complete and self-satisfied, has no need for honour from ignorant people; being compassionate, he accepts it only for their own sake -- for whatever honour a person offers to the Lord returns to that very person's own credit, just as the beauty of one's face is reflected back from a mirror.

Therefore, freed from all hesitation, I shall glorify the Lord with my whole being, according to my own understanding; for by describing his glories even a lowborn person, entangled by illusion within this stream of material qualities, becomes purified.

All of these -- Brahma and the other demigods -- are simply carrying out your order, O abode of pure goodness, and, like us, are never agitated by fear of you. This play of yours in these charming incarnations is only for the welfare and benefit of the world, and for your own happiness.

Therefore, O Lord, give up your anger now -- the demon has already been slain by you today; even a saintly person feels pleasure at the killing of a scorpion or snake. All the worlds have attained peace and are now content; but people still remember this form of yours, Nrisimha, with fear.

O unconquerable one, I do not fear you, even in this most terrifying form of yours, with your tongue flashing like lightning, your eyes like the sun, your fearsome frowning brows, your dreadful teeth, garlands of intestines, blood-red mane, spear-like ears, your roar that terrifies the elephants of the directions, and your claws that tore apart my enemy.

I am terrified, O you who are affectionate to the fallen, being thrust into the jaws of this unbearable, terrible wheel of material existence, bound by my own actions -- O best of the exalted, when, pleased with me, will you call me to the shelter of your lotus feet, the refuge that grants liberation?

O unlimited one, in every species of life I am burning in the fire of grief born from union with the undesirable and separation from the desirable; and even that so-called remedy for suffering, sense gratification, is itself only suffering to one whose intelligence is not fixed on you. Tell me, then, how I may attain the fortune of your service.

O Nrisimha, thus, by narrating and repeating the pastime-stories of you, the beloved friend and supreme worshipable Lord, sung even by Brahma, I shall easily cross over life's difficulties, freed from the modes of nature, in the association of swan-like devotees devoted to your two lotus feet.

O Nrisimha, for a child there is no protection in his parents; for one bitten by a snake there is no cure in medicine; for one drowning in the ocean there is no help in a boat -- as long as embodied beings are neglected by you, O Lord, any remedy for their suffering that seems immediately effective is truly no remedy at all.

In whom, from whom, when, by whom, of whom, from whom, to whom, how, that which, and whoever else is superior or inferior -- whatever nature acts and transforms, moved by its own distinct disposition, all of that, in its entirety, is but your own very nature.

Maya, greatly powerful, driven by time and sanctioned by the modes, creates the mind of the living being composed of fruitive desires; this wheel of material existence, made of the Vedic hymns, given its sixteen spokes by the unborn Brahma -- who besides you, O unborn one, could ever cross beyond it?

You indeed are that eternal time who, by your own inherent power, forever controls the modes of nature and holds under your control the potency for creation and dissolution. O all-powerful Lord, this wheel of sixteen spokes, set in motion by the unborn Brahma, now crushes me -- please draw me, your surrendered servant, out from it.

O almighty Lord, I have seen in heaven the longevity, opulence, and glory of the rulers of all the higher planets, which people so eagerly desire -- yet these very things were destroyed by a mere trembling of my father's angrily raised, laughing eyebrows; and that same father of mine has now been slain by you.

Therefore, O unborn one, I do not desire for this body of mine the longevity, opulence, sensory pleasure, and glory enjoyed even up to the post of Brahma, all of which are shattered by your own vast power in the form of time -- rather, bring me to the side of your own eternal servants.

Where are these blessings that merely please the ear, like a mirage of water? And where is this body, the very breeding-ground of countless diseases? Even though a person may know this well, he still does not become detached, but tries in vain to appease the fire of desire with tiny drops of honey, difficult even to obtain.

What am I, O Lord, born in this family of demons dominated by the mode of darkness born of passion, compared to your mercy -- mercy which was never bestowed even upon Brahma, nor upon Shiva, nor even upon the goddess of fortune herself, yet which you have placed as a blessing, your lotus hand, upon my head?

Your affection is never partial in this way or that toward any creature, for you are the true well-wishing friend of the entire universe; yet, like a wish-fulfilling tree, your mercy arises according to the service rendered to you -- this is not partiality, but simply the natural result corresponding to one's service.

Thus, O Lord, having accepted me -- a person fallen into the deep well of this world of material objects, having fallen through my own repeated desire for one enjoyment after another -- through the intercession of the celestial sage Narada, how could I now ever give up the service of your servants?

O unlimited one, I consider that you protected my life and killed my father solely in order to fulfill, as truth, the words of your devotee, the sage Narada -- for wishing to do me harm, my father took up his sword and said, "Who is this Lord besides me whom I must now kill, who would protect you?"

You alone remain undivided, though this universe appears in you at its beginning, middle, and end as something separate; having created this interplay of the material modes by your own potency, you enter into it and, though appearing as many through those modes, remain always fixed in your own oneness.

O Lord, you are this manifest and unmanifest existence, and yet you remain distinct from it, since this notion of "self" and "other," born of maya, is ultimately meaningless; for the birth, dissolution, maintenance, and perception of this universe are but transformations of you yourself, as wood is transformed by time yet remains wood.

Withdrawing this universe into yourself at the time of dissolution into the causal waters, you lie there absorbed in your own self-experienced bliss, desiring nothing, your eyes closed as if in mystic sleep, drinking your own inner rest, situated in the fourth transcendental state, untouched by darkness and unconnected with the material modes.

That very body of yours, though hidden by your own nature, set in motion by your own time-potency, gave rise, when your yoga-trance upon the waters as Ananta-shayi came to an end, to a great lotus from your navel, as though it were the seed sprouting from your own being.

Brahma, born from that lotus, being a seer, and finding nothing else to be seen, searched for you, the seed pervading his own self, outside himself; and diving into the waters for a hundred years, he could not find you -- for how could one discover the seed once the sprout has already appeared?

That self-born Brahma, greatly astonished, took shelter of the lotus and, his consciousness thoroughly purified over time by severe austerity, at last perceived you within himself, pervading the elements, senses, and mind, subtle as fragrance is subtle within the earth.

Thus, having seen the great Supreme Person -- resplendent with thousands of mouths, feet, heads, hands, thighs, noses, ears, eyes, ornaments, and weapons, his transcendental form perceptible through his own potency by the purified -- Brahma attained great joy.

For that Brahma's sake, you assumed the form of Hayagriva and, killing the two supremely powerful enemies of the Vedas named Madhu and Kaitabha, restored the collections of Vedic knowledge; the mode of goodness, they say, is the bodily form dearest to you.

Thus, through your incarnations as man, animal, sage, demigod, and fish, you maintain the worlds and slay their enemies, O great Supreme Person, protecting the principles of religion as they vary with the ages; and in the Age of Kali you appear concealed -- so that though known as Triyuga, you are present even now, in this very form.

O Lord of Vaikuntha, this mind of mine takes no pleasure in your narrations, being spoiled by wickedness, sinful, cruel, afflicted with lust, and disturbed by joy, sorrow, fear, and desire -- how, then, wretched as I am, could I ever contemplate the path leading to you through such a mind?

O infallible one, my insatiable tongue drags me one way, my genitals another, my skin and belly yet another, my ears elsewhere, my nose elsewhere still, my restless eyes another way, and the urge to act yet another -- like many co-wives tearing apart a single husband of the house, they tear me apart.

Seeing a person thus fallen, through his own actions, into the fearful river of material existence, terrified again and again by repeated birth and death, entangled in quarrels, enmity, and friendship over notions of "mine" and "others" -- oh, please, O Lord who moves so mysteriously, deliver this foolish soul even now.

O supreme spiritual master of all, O friend of the distressed, what difficulty could it possibly be for you, whose very presence is the cause of destroying the cycle of birth and death, to deliver this fool? Yet the great mercy shown by saints toward the fallen is itself the very reason we get to serve your own dear devotees.

I feel no fear at all of this insurmountable river of material existence so difficult to cross, for my mind is immersed in the great nectar of singing your glorious deeds; rather, I grieve for those bewildered souls whose minds are turned away, who bear the heavy burden of striving for the illusory happiness of sense objects.

O Lord, most sages, desiring only their own liberation, generally observe silence and dwell alone, not caring for the welfare of others; but I, though I too could desire liberation, am unable to abandon these fallen, wretched souls -- and, wandering about among them, I see no shelter for them other than you.

The so-called happiness of sex life enjoyed by ordinary householders is truly insignificant -- it is like the relief a person gets from scratching an itch with the hands, itself only misery upon misery; wretched people, ever prone to much suffering, never find real satisfaction in it this way, but the self-controlled devotee simply tolerates such itching desire like Cupid's own irritation, without succumbing.

O Supreme Person, silence, vows, scriptural study, austerity, private study, engagement in one's occupational duty, teaching, solitary chanting, and trance meditation -- these, though meant for liberation, generally become mere means of livelihood for those who have not conquered their senses, and are of no use at all to the hypocritical.

These two forms of yours, manifest and unmanifest, as described in the Vedas, are related like the seed and the sprout; nothing beyond them applies to you, who are actually formless. Those who are truly wise directly perceive you present within both, through the practice of yoga, just as fire, though hidden, is perceived within wood -- not by any other means.

You are air, fire, earth, sky, water, and the subtle sense-objects; you are the life-air, the senses, the heart, and even the intelligence that grants understanding; you alone are everything, whether possessing material qualities or transcendental to them, O unlimited one -- nothing exists apart from you, not even anything describable by mind or word.

Neither these material qualities nor their possessors -- the total material energy and its products, beginning with the mind, together with the demigods and mortals -- none of them, being subject to birth and death, can truly know you, O widely-glorified one. Understanding this, persons of true intelligence cease their dependence on mere words and speculation.

O most worshipable Lord, how else, other than by these limbs of devotional service to you -- offering obeisances, praising your glories, worshipping you, remembering and serving your two feet, hearing your topics, and rendering practical service -- could a person ever attain devotion to you, who are the ultimate goal of the paramahamsas?