தொந்தி சரிய

My belly droops, my hair turns grey, my rows of teeth loosen, my back bends, my lips sag, and I lean on a staff. Women laugh at my pitiable condition.

People mockingly ask, "Who is this old man?" My body trembles with coughs, my speech becomes confused, my eyesight fades into blindness, and my hearing is lost in deafness.

Diseases gather in my body. My old frame becomes a burden. My children think only of my possessions and wonder, "When will his wealth become ours?" Thus I suffer in sorrow.

My wife weeps. The messengers of Yama stand waiting. My body loses control, filth flows from it, and as my life is about to leave, please come swiftly, riding on Your peacock.

Just as Queen Kausalya lovingly welcomed Lord Rama saying, "My father, come! O Lord of the Raghu dynasty, come! My son, come! Come before my eyes! Come, my very life! O beautiful one, my king, come! Come drink milk, come wear these flower garlands,"—

O Muruga, beloved nephew of Rama, beautiful Lord who embraces Valli, the young maiden of the Kurava tribe! O mighty one who destroyed the race of the asuras and freed the imprisoned devas!

O son of Lord Shiva, who wears the crescent moon, the serpent, and the sacred river Ganga upon His head! O Lord who happily dwells and blesses devotees in the sacred city of Tiruchendur Murugan Temple by the shore where the waves of the sea strike the land—please come to me at the final moment of my life and grant me Your grace.