Beginning He has none, neither any end; His crown and feet are unbeholdable; His limitless effulgence is Kumaran. As I forever contemplate the crescent-crested Aarumukha-Sivan, it is for You, O Muruga, to suffuse these translit middles with grace.

Grace is You who cause this world, the song, the singing and the propagation. It is Your divine play that causes the deeds to get linked with the doers. So, the deeds and their fruits belong to You only. I am not the doer. So, I stand unencumbered, with no burden to bear!

Bearing nothing, I am poised in a burdenless, deedless beatitude, yet my deeds in the past fructify and cause me troubles. My egoity prevents peace; O Aarumukha! O Son of Uma! May your grace ease my travel and bear the burden I carry.

Carried in Your care, You bear all my burden; To purify me through the onslaught of ordeals, You have immersed me in agonizing and transmuting fire. O peerless Kumara! Life will henceforth flow smooth for me as Your grace-abounding, ankleted feet have conferred on me divine clarity. So this life is simple!

Simple for me Your access sweet; You are the divine light of Mercy; You indeed are the Life of all entia; And the grace-conferring downpour. O One whose mount is the beauteous Peacock! My bosom is Your throne; no wonder I own You in my hold!

Hold is in me, O great Peacock, I treasure you. For your sumptuous fare, I offer you the variform and harrowing and venomous serpents teeming in me. I have truly spoken. To show me your gratitude, you must, for sure, cause me envision Him- the Younger Brother of the tusker-faced Lord, His divine Vision.

Vision divine I ask, O Peacock, do come to me to bless me with the coveted darshan. Your pulchritudinous presence points to each soul its innate beatitude, its ultimate gain. My inner sensorium is tossed like scattered clouds. Let your compassion prevail, O Guru, O bird-incarnate Opulence, dear!

Dear, O Wealth! O Valiancy atop Tirutthanikai! O Form ever-ensured in my contemplation! O Loftiness that is the Life of all lives! O Guru who rules and exercises our hearts! O One whose Guruship embraces Siva! O Uterus of the Cosmos! O Fruitage! O Rider of the beauteous Peacock! Your anklet feet are our succor.

Succor is You, O Muruga! As You shine as my help, suffusing me with grace, I have installed Your feet twain in my heart. So, the harrowing shackles of my former deeds have snaped. Maladies are no more. The great walls of the cosmos incarcerating embodiments have ceased. By my newly-gained Gnosis, bliss ensues therein.

In all my embodiments on earth, in the wasting away of kinship owing to karmic resultants and in the hour of death, the sole refuge is the Lord whose banner sports a bantam and who wields the Spear!

O Spear! Rocky is my heart like the Crowncha Mount You smote. Do away with it by Your puissance. Pat will I come by radiant knowledge that will reveal to me the Truth and I will be established in weal. Praise be , O Sovereign-Lord, mounting on the Peacock, You are,an uncloying lump of sugar, so sweet!

Sweet, O surfeitless lump of sugar! O Cornucopia of Katirgaama! O Womb-of-all! O radiant effulgence of Lord Arunagiri- the lord of language! O Seed of eternal bliss! O lucid Gnosis of Supreme Siva who dances facing south! Your form is glimpsed in the stone artfully chiseled. You are in my eye as its pearl!.

Pearl as the phrase You gave with grace – You blessed the bard par excellence with the opening words: ԍutthai-th-tharuԠwhich unleashed his divine hymns. From his lips emerged forever, song and psalm and solemn strain. Chanting them daily I stand possessed by a fine frenzy. I beseech You to bless me with such poesy at all times!

Time, It is now, O Lord that wields the Spear and rides the splendorous Peacock. This life is a perilous play and the advent of the morrow is an uncertainty. Like the brick baked in the kiln, my heart is dry and hard. Remove my fetters and rule me, O Flower burgeoning in the Pool (of Bliss)!

(Blissful) Wreaths bedeck Your chest and the waist adorned with jewel the best; Your crown is inlaid with gems and anklets decorate Your feet; Your hands wield the Spear and the banner of Rooster; adorable is Your presence which quells and causes the inner sensorium to envision all: thus You stand enshrined to enlighten the whole world. O Expanse of Wisdom, You have blessed me to comprehend Your form!

Form of the petals of burgeoning blooms, the corners of beholding eyes, the beauty of wondrous words, the calligraphic script, the forms of language, the wordless silence ineffable, the plane of understanding, and the assimilation of intellect, and the form of the burning lamp in the adytum: in all these I behold the eesome Spear of the Omniscient. So, I affirm that things beheld are informed by Your omnipresence and all in You.

You – the Fruit of Love-. blessed Avvai with salvific fruit. Blemishes vanished and upsurfaced gradually the holy weal; dread disappeared and puissance surged up. O God, be pleased to manifest before me, to bless me with Your lofty way as my folly it undoes!

Does it become me to lament aloud in dreadful commotion, shatter and lose the present, thinking that the future will be enveloped in murk, replete with troubles? It behoves one to seek refuge in the salvific feet of the Six-faced Lord, the Wielder of the Spear and the Scion of Siva who with his left foot smote Death to death. This will make oneӳ future tranquil, sweet and even.

Even if life be entangled and made effete by the magic net of Time and even if one is again and again pushed into the womb to get born utterly fatigued in this world, saving grace will ensue if one ensouls Him whose mount is the blue Peacock and who is the Son of Siva that quaffed the Oceanic Venom as though it were nectar indeed.

Indeed it is pure tapas to remain poised in the transcendental serenity. This I must gain. My inner sensorium, a billowy ocean, must stand still. I must be one-with You, my Sire. Vouchsafe to me the lofty life to vision everything as Your grace, O twelve-handed Lord whose Spear shines with sunny splendour. This, in sooth, is the merciful truth that informs my translit middles.

translit middles with meaning in depth, metrical in the glorious Sindu genre, sung by Arunagiri will enshrine in my heart the feet of Kandan. But my mind has not cultivated this thought. Yet I am emboldened to indite this Anthaati, a novel marvel, in my childish way. O Muruga, How to account for this hence?

Henceforth I feel liberated from worries, as in my thought I have enshrined the great One of Sentil, the Lord of mountains (the Lord of Tirumayilai whose mount is the Peacock), the Shoot of Siva, the Consort of Valli, the blessing Sovereign-Lord, the Monarch of the supernals. Absolutely tranquil is my mind.

My mind indeed is the shrine at Sikkal; my intellect is the Mount Pazhani; my virtues constitute Kadirkaamam; my body is Your bivouac; when (by Your grace) I comprehend You, I behold in my life-breath Your form divine; with my thought solely centered in You, I adore You. This indeed is my quotidian and ever-crescent beatitude of concord, I sing.

Singing with devotion informed by Gnosis, the garland of Tiruppukazh, is sweet. Sweet indeed is the gain, through meditation of Your feet twain- the true shrine; sweet is the quest that seeks You. O Lord Shanmukha, sweet is the chanting of Your names, hailed by the Veda. O peerless Kanda, my knowledge- true as well as metaphoric, is on the ascendant !

Ascending forth as the flood of flame from the crescent-crested Siva concorporate with Uma, O Lord! Your power of Kriya (Action) is Deivaanai, of Iccha (Volition/Will) is sylvan Valli, of Gnaana (Gnosis) is Your sharp Spear. The Chanticleer in Your banner proclaims the advent of the sunrise of Knowledge; Your Peacock is the pure and sempiternal beatitude: with these You reveal Your presence, Your eyes suffused with saving grace to quell the might of evil stemming from Kali, the current Iron-Age that is.

Is it the true dawn when eyes open freed from slumber? Is this the morn harbingering the advent of bliss? Is true life baffled by the buffets of phenomena? Does verbiage constitute true praise? Is renunciation the true fruit of Wisdom, constitutive of deliverance? O Lord who wields the Spear, before You, these are my doubts, I place thereto!

To indicate the Supreme Ens that does not manifest, mighty endeavours notwithstanding, to discover the Seed-of-all recondite in my soul that is ready to quit its embodiment and to foster the Truth in my bosom which is not at all mellow, may You, the Revealer of Truth who is established in the Peak of Gnosis, be pleased to present Yourself before me as my Guru, O Muruga.

O Muruga May You come, the Sovereign-Lord! May You still my agitated mind-heart, cause it to thaw in devotion and flourish thanks to Your Spear of Wisdom! May You remove the stony in me and make me fit to receive bliss, removing from me the fettering Karma! May Your countenances shower on me abiding Grace! May You, bless me thus, Kanda the merciful cloud.

Clouded densely is my heart; it dances like a deadly cobra; it is iron-hard; it covets fugitive pleasures galore; yet it thirsts for goodly grace and yearns for the downpour of Wisdom. Truly it can serve as the habitat of Your fan-tailed Peacock. It will spell salvific knowledge for me to insist on the advent of Muruga in all celerity, riding His Peacock. Seeking thus is the Gnaanam (liberating knowledge ) !

Gnaanam (liberating knowledge ) is the Spear; Kriya Sakti (Energy of Action) is Devaanai; Iccha Sakti (Power of Will) is Sri Valli; divinising force is the Rooster adorning Your banner; compassion indeed is Your beatific Peacock and Aanava mala is the serpent held in the claws of the Peacock. O opulent Grace, O Muruga, All these are in Your image!

Image of Arumukan inspires, metaphysical; The six faces signify the six directions, the six chakras, the energising seats of life in the human body, the pentad of senses and the inner sensorium as well as the five primordial elements and the Brahmam beyond those five. These six are the six different natural activisers. To behold them in the Lord that wields the Spear constitutes true beatitude.

Beatitude, what that is the greatest of all? It is the feet twain of Muruga. His hallowed name is Kandaa. His best abodes are the six shrines. What confers realisation? It is the opus Kandar Anubhuti. What indeed is the river that draws one in its current merging with the sea of Sivaӳ bliss? What indeed are the Vedas? They are, in sooth, the hymns sung by Saint Arunagiri. Say, O Muruga, what else can be reckoned as boon for human life, for sure?

Surely if I am dissected, these will be discerned: the embryonic opulence that is omneity, the well-grown, celestial, wish-yielding tree with its deeply-embedded roots, the victorious Guru-Lord that wields the Spear, the goodly way leading to the lofty goal, the figure of the Rider of the Peacock. I am truly poised in bhakti delightfully decked with such jewels.So there I earn, merits innumerable.

Innumerable thunder-bolts smite my mind-heart which is like a swift, roving cloud. The outcome of my deeds pains me. The fear of my future- a burden which I carry about-, shrouds me. When a jar breaks, the space in the jar freely mingles with the ubiquitous space; even so, if life flits from the body, it merges with Life of lives. My flaw is the ignorance of this truth. To have this annulled and to gain true knowledge, I seek You in love. I am Your bonded slave, O Muruga, the Scion of Siva.

O the Scion of Siva! O One omnipresent! O ever-abiding Help! O original Essence of Siva! O the Alpha of Time! O blissful One! O One who wields the Spear and whose mount is the Peacock! O Expanse of Enlightenment!. O Effulgence of Siva! O Guru! O Lofty One! O One infinitely merciful! The truth is that I who am in You, am You Yourself. This is for You to reveal!

Revealed by the Vedas as the Omnipresent O God, O Ens Entium, O One that provides the way to snap once for all the cycle of transmigration, O Kumara that emerged from Sivaӳ fiery Eye of Wisdom, You should teach me the Wisdom that does away with the screen of Nescience, and make me immune to Karmic consequences generative of ever-during weal.

Weal eternal is You. You abide forever. I seek refuge in You. Confer on me the holy beatitude of Aagamic askesis. You are my Ruler, the Guru close to me. You are the lofty Marvel. O Consort of cynegetic Valli, be pleased to bless me, Kumara.

Kumara, O One young and handsome! O! Dweller in the cave of heart! O Lord with six visages! O eternal Youth that annuls the troubles of the celestials! O subtle One indwelling each and every atom of the cosmos! O divine Art ensouled by devotees! O Downpour that washes away dread that sinks men in Hell, within!

In Tirucchendur on the rain-producing sea and Your other five hill-shrines, I walk in delight whilst the waves of my loving mind-heart romp and dance. In devotion I hail Kandan; to lose my ego, I envision Him as Guha in the cave of my heart. I hail the Lord of Pazhani who is armed with a staff and embrace Him with my thoughts and dance ecstatically.

Ecstatically I dance, wearing the garland of Your grace, I sing the songs of the Tiruppukazh and other hymnody and adore You. I will seek after the Spear and the feet of the twelve-armed Lord and laugh in joyance. I will witness the future occurrences as the past ones and stand amazed. I will quest after You, behold You in everything and remain poised in true Knowledge that is You.

You are adored at Ennkann by Brahma- the four-armed Lord endowed with eight eyes. Around this glorious shrine in all eight directions are the temples of Siva in the midst of which is situated Ettukudi. Lo, there is also Kazhukumalai, pleasant to behold. Vayalur is the holy place where Arunagiri was blessed with the words with which his Tiruppukazh opus. At Mayilai, Murugan received the gracious Spear from Uma and at Sikkal, He brandished it in triumph. O Muruga, Yours is the ubiquitous rulership. Be pleased to own my heart also as Your temple, the divine body.

Body is a shell, simply dressing the soul; It is a pot on a loan, so a due, not to own – I am aware of this. Yet, as this body is Your tabernacle and as it is a gracious gift from You, You should keep it protected from ills. You should confer on me comfort, unsolicited. Do demonstrate the truth that the body is a theatre where life enacts its play at Your will.

Will they that slumber wake up? Will seeds sown germinate? Will possessions last? Is future a certainty? Are abandoned things truly lost? Will Karmic consequences forget to get attached? O Kumara, reigning from the Hill of Grace, You are indeed the Provider. It is You who stage the play!

Play is this enacted world! O Kumara, You are the Lord of the cosmos. Beings are the characters of the play. Tragedy is the outcome of Karma. The message is: ԗisdom liberatesԮ Understanding culminates in the salvific end. This indeed is the spiritual message of Murugan- the divine Playwright and Enactor- that is the essence, this Antaati transcends.

Transcending the dusty region of Time and Space and their mutations, You abide as the Cosmic Governor, O Muruga who wields the beauteous Spear, diffusing radiance that is tranquil, wisdom-conferring, rare and ineffable. You indeed are tapas-incarnate.

O Incarnation of Hara who is Siva, Confronting Surapanman, Singamukhan and Gajamukhan- the evil and intractable Asuras-, You did away with them, by Your Spear of Gnosis and conferred on them the bliss of release. If Murugan is enshrined with love in oneӳ bosom and adored, and if life be lived righteously, He will, even as a servitor, manifest and lead one as oneӳ companion true, and enable one to thrive in blessed felicity. Embrace this opportunity.

Opportunity that is! Will I come by stable truth? Will Your mercy befall me? Will I, with equanimity, endure the onslaught of sins? Will my life fructify? Will I gain the boon of Silence? Will Gnosis rain on me? Will these betide, ere Yama throws on me his ineluctable death curtain?

In all things I behold before me, You are present, O margaritaceous Lord Kumara! O Spear-holding Lord who is the Protector of the supernals, will I not fall within the ken of Your twelve eyes? O Gaangkeya, O Kadiresa, I enshrine You in my thought and adore You. Who else is my refuge?

(Refuge is THAT.) What indeed is THAT, proclaimed by a thousand faiths and their ways? True understanding affirms that the only ONE is to be comprehended and apprehended. What indeed is puissant and true tapas? O Muruga, is it not that which is revealed by the mantra Saravanabhava, with Your grace?

With Your grace, I will gain the conviction that it is Grace that pervades the entire cosmos, and all lives are love-incarnate. This body is a God-gifted vessel and I will denude my organs of sense, to serve Him. Vogue la galore! Life is sweet. Thus assured, I stand clarified, O Muruga, to celebrate each day as a holy day of radiance.

O Radiant Pearl graced by the Mad One of Himavant that blesses adepts with occult power! O Eternal One that quells the din of battle that is daily waged in the heart! O Seed that informs each according to his merit, the truth of Tat Tvam Asi! Impress on me the kiss of Your absolute and eternal bliss, O One supremely valiant!

O Valiant, You transformed Sura; You- the Darling of the Devas-, are hailed in Nakkirarӳ TiruMurugaatruppadai; You are the Hero; You are the Instructor approved by Siva Himself; You are the Consort of the sylvan Valli. O Muruga, reveal to me the opportune hour and grace me with the way. I will forget You no more.

No more will I ply You with questions relating to the cause for my troubles and the way leading to their annulment as I hold You as my Lord whose eyes will gut with fire my Karma. O Honey, my mind-heart will henceforth comprehend and apprehend Truth with single-minded concentration. O Wielder of the Spear, You are the Captain of my consciousness who melts my embodiment; O my Sovereign, O Muruga, You are the Life of my life and its constant companion and eternal friend.

O Friend, O Wielder of the Spear enshrined in Chengkotu! O Vanquisher of Surapanma and Ruler of Thokaimalai! O Nephew of Vishnu! O Sovereign-Lord of Vennaimalai- transcending time! O Hero of Vallimalai! O Spear-wielding Muruga! O Filial Godhead! O Holy One of Swamimalai! O beauteous Holder of the Trident never parting from Solaimalai! O Source Original of all entia! Do cast Your looks on me, the impoverished one. Thinking on You, I melt and melt at Your will.

Will not my soul deliquesce when I chant your name Muruga? Will not the holy lips quaff ambrosial grace? Will not my eyes turn tear-bedewed? Will not merciful grace abound? Will not the flood of bliss souse my soul? Lo, my heart, chants thus: ԍuruga, Muruga!Ԭ forever.

Forever He smiles blandishingly saying: Ԇear not!Ԡ Learn the message of this divine smile. It is penury which is ever in want, venomous efforts seek; possessions once possessed, miserliness holds fast unto them that are coveted by our kith and kin. Spouses who are partners in the bed wail and lament when life-breath quits. Such indeed is life. For the saviour and the saved, even venom is not mortal. Did not Siva quaff Halaahalaa- the most potent venom-, to save the world? Learn to live.

(To live is to ) realize that Gnosis is the shrine and Love is God; then you will do nought but work out weal for all. This is indeed God-consciousness as well as worship. The ankleted feet of the Lord are the refuge. The divine ordains the actualization as the will of His.

His hand that holds a staff rules all the worlds. In Tamil Nadu are situated his sextet of shrines. He also abides in London, the city great, as well as in all the spinning spheres. His opulent grace burgeons ubiquitously. Do seek this saving light that shines in the body that perishes in the funeral fire eventually.

Eventually, the one and only God is sought in many divinities, in many faiths and in many ways. The ramiferous rivers run different courses and ultimately merge with the sea. Even so, all entia seek their final refuge in the feet of the Dancing Lord whose filial form is Murugan. His feet are gained through the chanting of His mantra that is Saravanabhava. This indeed is the core message of this Anthati.

I get buffeted again and again; I stand bewildered; I cannot close my eyes in sleep. In my lap, dread of death weighs like a mountain and causes me to forget You. At this You admonish me thus: Ԉold fast to my salvific feet; firmly fix on your shoulder the sling (kavadi) of your life fringed with good and bad. I bestow on you, all that you merit.ԠO Wielder of the Spear, I embosom Your Divine feet. No wonder, this Anthaati flows on its own accord for the new beginning!