Worldly life, the cry of the trapped soul
Original Marathi from the Tukaram Gatha · About Sant Tukaram
मराठी मूळ
बहुत जाचलों संसारीं । वसें गभाअ मातेच्या उदरीं । लक्ष चौयाशी योनिद्वारीं । जालों भिकारी याचक ॥1॥
जिणें पराधीन आणिकां हातीं । दृढ पाशीं बांधलों संचितीं । प्रारब्ध क्रियमाण सांगाती । भोवंडिती सत्ता आपुलिया ॥ध्रु.॥
न भरे पोट नाहीं विसांवा । नाहीं नेम एक ठाव गांवा । नाहीं सत्ता न फिरे ऐसी देवा । लाहे जीवा खापरीं तडफडी ॥2॥
काळ बहुत गेले ऐसिया रीती । आणीक पुढें नेणों किती । खंडणा नाहीं पुनरावृत्ती । मज कल्पांतीं तरी वेगळें ॥3॥
ऐसें दुःख कोण हरील माझें । कोणा भार घालूं आपुलें ओझें । भवसिंधुतारक नाम तुझें । धांवसि काजें आडलिया ॥4॥
आतां धांव घालीं नारायणा । मजकारणें रंका दीना । गुण न विचारीं अवगुणा । तुका करुणा भाकीतसे ॥5॥
Tukaram Gatha (Marathi Wikisource)
English Translation
I have suffered greatly in worldly life, dwelling in the womb of a mother, wandering through eighty-four lakh lakh forms of birth, becoming a beggar and a supplicant. My existence is dependent on others. I am bound tightly by the ropes of accumulated karma. Fate, destiny, and ongoing actions are my companions; they spin me around by their own authority. My belly is never full, there is no rest. There is no settled home, no village, no sovereignty that does not change. The soul writhes in this broken vessel. Ages have passed in this manner, and I know not how many more lie ahead. There is no end to this repeated cycle; not even at the end of time will I be freed. Who will remove my sorrow? On whom shall I place the burden of my load? Your name is the raft that carries one across the ocean of worldly existence; You rush to the aid of those in trouble. Now rush to me, O Narayana, for the sake of this poor, lowly one. Says Tuka, do not weigh my virtues against my faults; I plead for compassion.
We ask forgiveness for any inaccuracies in rendering Tukaram ji’s original Marathi.
In Plain Words
I have suffered much in worldly life. I lived in a mother's womb. Through eighty-four lakh kinds of birth I became a beggar and a supplicant. My life is in others' hands, not my own. I am bound tight by the ropes of stored-up karma. Fate, destiny, and present deeds are my companions, and they spin me around by their own power. My belly is never full; there is no rest. There is no settled home, no village, no power that does not change. The soul writhes in this broken pot. Ages have passed this way, and I do not know how many more lie ahead. There is no end to this returning; not even at the end of time will I be free. Who will take away my sorrow? On whom can I lay down my load? Your name is the raft that carries one over the ocean of worldly life. You run to the aid of those in trouble. Now come running, Narayana, for this poor lowly one. Tuka says: do not weigh my virtues against my faults; I beg for your compassion.
What it means
This is the soul's cry from inside the trap. Tukaram piles up the marks of bondage, the womb, the countless births, the ropes of karma, a belly never filled and a home that never holds, to show a life spun helplessly by forces that are not his own. The despair is real: he sees no end to the returning, not even at the end of time. The turn comes when he names the one thing not bound to that wheel, the Name of God, the raft across the ocean. So the helpless catalogue becomes the ground of his plea: precisely because he can do nothing, he asks Narayana to come running and to grant mercy without first weighing his merits, which he has already confessed he lacks.
Worldly Life
The perplexities of action, karma, and navigating life in the world.
More in this theme →