People applaud sin and mock the saints. Such is the strength of unrighteousness; the whole populace has been deceived. Dharma has been uprooted; the final dissolution has begun. The wonder of this age is great: brahmins, whose highest duty is the Vedas, have abandoned their calling and worship foreign idols. Such is the ruin of truth. Righteousness has drowned. Never before has such a state been seen; a terrible spirit has descended. Patience, forgiveness, compassion, devotion, faith, and right conduct find no haven. Courage and fortitude have been shattered. Caste duties have collapsed; all castes perform one another's rituals at random. To utter the name of Rama is considered a great burden. People rush after omens and spirits in a frenzy. At the mention of scriptural discourse, faces twist in irritation. For the sake of sensual greed, they stake their lives; yet from one who walks the spiritual path, they will not part with a fistful of flour. The wealthy and nameless are honored as indispensable, while Vedic scholars and the virtuous are insulted. Sons treat their own fathers as servants. Daughters-in-law have turned their mothers-in-law into their maids. Truth has been lost and all boundaries destroyed. Husbands treat their wives like paupers. People are ashamed to bow to a devotee of Hari, yet for the belly's sake they fawn upon the foreigner. Sin has swelled beyond all measure. None call the lowest 'impure,' for everyone has lost all sense of purity. On Ekadashi they eat grains; brahmins, after accepting betel-leaf offerings, utter obscene words. Virtuous women of good families are dishonored, while the faces of servants are kissed. Adulteresses are pampered while faithful wives live in penury. See how mighty sin has become, O Lord. The saints have been driven away and their merit dragged off to the wastelands. The rains have grown fearful and scanty, the earth trembles in dread. The gods have retreated behind closed doors; violence has spread everywhere. Crops yield less grain day by day, cows and buffaloes give thin milk, cities look ruined, and heresies have flourished in abundance. Sacred fires, offerings, Vedic rituals, and daily observances have all disappeared. All eighteen communities have taken up one another's trades; brahmins engage in thievery, abandoning their pure white garments for dark clothing. The Gita is forgotten, the Gayatri is suppressed, and mantras are loaded with trickery. Vedic scholars sell unmarried girls as though they were horses. Those who study the Vedic texts are mocked and ridiculed. Delight in scholarship has been overtaken by corruption. The wicked parade with great cunning, deceit, and charm. Cleverness, skill, and logical debate are all deployed for calumny and backbiting. Not a single soul has been spared the ruin of scriptural discipline. Those who took up sannyasa, austerity, celibacy, or renunciation are now consumed by lust and anger and cannot free themselves from desire. In this time of destruction, kings have become the destroyers of their people. Fathers, sons, and brothers slaughter one another. How vast is the power of this harlot Maya: she has bewitched all people, all castes, all four orders, trampling and defiling them. What the saints prophesied of old has come true to the letter; what we once only heard, we now see with our own eyes. But let all this be as it may. There is no shelter to be found within the age of Kali. One must cry out to God with compassion and remember Him urgently in the heart. O Lord of Vaikuntha, what are You watching for? The people are tormented by Kali. Come running. Tuka's servant calls out to You.