O people, the world has swallowed you whole! At least save something real. The compassionate Lord has given you a human body and the gift of holy company. Do not place any obstacle here; do not speak the hollow word of fate. At once, with joy, plant the seed and let seed grow from seed. What is done now becomes kriyaman. What is accumulated becomes sanchit. What remains is prarabdha: the leftover balance, the destiny already in motion. When the chitta is crooked, following mere habit, and disease and unrestrained appetite rule the inner life, Says Tuka, the tongue carries the whole body behind it, right down to the rear. When the body burns like a fire-offering, scorched by the three-fold miseries, sanchit, kriyaman, and prarabdha all converge there. The cycle of worldly existence never breaks. Like a water-wheel that goes on turning, one jar fills while the other empties.