They hold gold coins in hand and bargain for a bride, making settlements over the daughter's future. Such are the ways of this dark age, where merit is impoverished and sin grows strong. The twice-born have abandoned their rituals and become informers and thieves. They hide their sacred marks in folds of cloth and wear leather trousers. Sitting upon their thrones, they torment the people without offering food. They live off writing decrees, skimming oil and ghee. They serve the lowly and, if they stumble, are beaten for it. The king oppresses his subjects, and the warrior cuts down the uncertain. As for the Vaishyas, Shudras, and the rest, what more need be said of them? All is outward decoration; inside it is raw, with only a mask on top. Says Tuka, O God, have you fallen asleep? Wake up and come to our rescue.