Lakshmi worships You daily with lotuses; yet what has that won from You? Why do You boast of Your generosity in vain? We know who You are, O Lord of Pandhari. You say You alone can grant deliverance, but Your justice has its limits. Karna, that generous and mighty warrior, You felled him with words alone. Even when he lay on the ground, You showed him no mercy and knocked out both his teeth. Poor Shiryala, a man of gentle nature, You made him cut and serve his own child as food. Who could be more hard-hearted? You had his head pounded in a mortar. The emperor Shibi, performing sacred rites, You had his body carved piece by piece. You extracted his very life with relentless demands, caring nothing for what followed. And what wrong had Bali committed? You pushed him under the earth with Your foot upon his head. You imprisoned him behind closed doors. Is this how You tell devotional stories? You took Harishchandra's entire kingdom and had him sold to a low-caste household. You drove a wedge between Nala and Damayanti. Such is Your cunning, O Hari. And how many more of Your deeds shall I recount? You brought calamity upon Your own mother's kin. You killed Your own uncle. Says Tuka's brother, such is our beloved Lord.