No doubt, the effulgent discus in the Lord’s exquisite hand and His sapphire hue are very attractive and can easily steal away the hearts of beholders. The Āzhvār’s heart, hard ḻike steel, is, however, impervious and yet he called out the Lord, not once, but several times, shamming the love of true devotees. Apart from this treachery of the tongue, the Āzhvār’s behaviour,

The Divine child (Kṛṣṇa) was tied to a pounder by the Mother, as a punishment. But the child dragged it along and crawled in between two ‘Maruta’ trees and felled them. The Mother grew apprehensive of the safety of the child and it was, therefore, quite all right when she questioned the young one anxiously, ‘Ha! my darling, did you crawl between the trees?’ But the Āzhvār

With a mind duly reconditioned by the Lord, purged of all its erstwhile grossness, dirt and delivery, the Āzhvār says, he cannot think of any but the most delectable Lord and there is no question of his giving up One who has such a strong hold on him and running after others who are hardly adorable and having nothing to grant, even if adored.

There are two ways of appreciating the genesis of this song. The first is: “My Lord, You have no doubt redeemed my mind but I am still apprehensive of slipping back to my old ways, because of the impact of this material body and the mundane surroundings. I, therefore, pray that you be pleased to steer me clear of the material contacts and lift me up to your feet in spiritual

In this song, the Āzhvār expatiates on the heinous material contacts, referred to in the previous song. In the first two lines, he draws a picture of God-head, with melting tenderness, while, in the next two lines, he speaks of his own inglorious material shackles, with great abhorrence. Neatly cloaked outside, this body is but a bundle of guts and glands, blood and bones,

(i) The Āzhvār, who grieved over his serious handicap, the material shackles, in the two preceding songs, was compensated by the Lord, when He blessed him with the vision of His exquisite Form. In the resultant joy, the Āzhvār drowned his erstwhile miseries.

(ii) The so-called merit (Puṇya) and demerit (Pāpa) play havoc with this body, the seat of action, the one being

(i) One can’t but shrink back while contrasting one’s own abject lowliness with the Lord’s peerless excellence. Reciting the first line of the original text of this song.

Piḻḻai-amutaṉar would exclaim: “How great and worthy He is, the Lord wielding the discus!” raising his arms up, pointing to spiritual world and then drop them down earthward, saying “how vile and

The Lord, lovingly worshipped by vast multitudes in spiritual world and the pious brahmins on Earth, has condescended to exhibit even greater love unto the Āzhvār than to them all. What is more, He has got right inside the Āzhvār. Little wonder then that the Āzhvār looks upon the Lord as the aggregate of all happiness derived by the earthlings through various sources, Father, Mother, Wife and all these.

The Āzhvār gratefully acknowledges the supreme grace of the Lord in dispelling all his erstwhile miseries by exhibiting His exquisite charm and entering his person, making His union with him just as natural and perfect as His holding the glorious weapons-Conch and Discus.

The age-long efforts of the Lord, an indefatigable cultivator, to redeem and reclaim the Āzhvār, have, at long last, yielded results. The Āzhvār who is now God-bent, gratefully acknowledges the Lord’s herculean efforts. And this simple gesture of the Āzhvār has drawn the Lord inside him, where He lovingly stays, firm and fast. This is, however, nothing new for the Lord

Those that recite these ten songs with intense love, as if they are drinking nectar, will remain pious Śrī Vaiṣṇavas during their stay here, and attain the Lord’s feet, like unto children reposing on the mother’s lap.