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Anything
said is nothing before that great thing he did. Its very remembrance
raises my joined palms. As I owe him much my pen cannot reach such
heights to redeem all. So Now remains the Divinities, of them,
MOTHER Sri Adiparasakthi, Mathridanivasini is to be remembered
first. I'm sure it is only her compassion that took the shape of
characters and filled the pages. I confers, I'm nothing, yes simply
nothing and incompetent to take up such gigantic work. Genuflexions
times umpteen only indicate the balance left. Yet, I make an attempt
for redemption. Now begins my adoration of Balaji, the Lord of Seven
Hills, who with his invisible presence rowed me across the
all-devouring whirl- pools. Cane confined to my pages and time? Is
he describable? Would FANCY keep him bound As he is the life-breath
to me and to my product, I prostrate and offer all I have in my
pious soul. Now that all went well, with his grace abundant, I lay
down my pen for a while, ruminating over the several leading to this
happy ending, Of course, anticipating eagerly your reaction to this
composition too.
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