How can I, a lowly one, describe Your greatness? You are the ocean of mercy, the embodiment of grace. No one else possesses compassion like Yours; this is Your singular marvel, O Hrishikeshi. On the battlefield of Kurukshetra, birds had nested in the grass. Suddenly, war pillars were set up there, and the place was marked for combat. Kauravas and Pandavas, two mighty armies, arrived to fight. At that moment the birds remembered You, crying, 'Save us, O Lord.' Elephants, horses, and chariots would rush across that ground, and stones would be crushed to powder. In such a catastrophe, how could we survive? Rush to us, O Hari, without delay. How could we abandon our young and fly away? Come quickly, O Lord of the universe. At that moment compassion arose in Your heart, O protector of the helpless, O Narayana. A bell hung from an elephant's neck; it fell upon the birds by chance. For eighteen days the great battle raged, yet neither wind nor sun touched them. After the war ended, You showed Arjuna: 'Look how I have sheltered these birds. See how I protected My own in the midst of battle.' Such is Your love for Your devotees. Says Tuka, You are our mother.