Save me, strike me, do whatever You will, O generous Lord; I have become Yours now. Let my wishes be Your concern; I shall remain at ease. Does a child worry about the pangs of hunger when it has a mother and father to care for it? Scripture is exhausted sorting sin and merit; the sacred texts find no foothold. Rules and prohibitions have entangled the Puranas, and even the Vedas carry the taint of ego. Maya has pervaded the very root of Om, and no conviction can hold there. Therefore I have dropped the struggle of hauling water from that well and have simply taken hold of Your name. I have placed my body, mind, and senses at Your feet, with all my hopes resting there. I have no capacity for austerity, pilgrimage, or charity; nothing is in my own hands. I care nothing for this world or the next; let me be born again and again in this body. Says Tuka, make the bonds of illusion and attachment into poison at my doorstep, so I never touch them again.