The overpowering sense of self, coupled with the need to proclaim oneself as all-powerful.
That was how she would define ego. The former, of course, was the root cause, and the latter the intended after-effect.
But first, Kodhai surmised, people needed the cognition of their self – the understanding of their nature, to have something that would cause their ego, eventually.
And with a skewed perception of their self, their egos were confused, too.
People who decided on their ‘self’, with the cognition that they had some qualities to be proud of, were the ones who developed an ego so powerful that it took their eyes away from the goal; the prize; Sriman Narayanan.
The Lord who had quelled the arrogance in Parashurama, the One who had quashed the pride in Kamsa, and He who showered His grace on everything He took to his Lotus Feet, should have been their only goal, Kodhai surmised, but why did people seldom realise that?
For all the Kings and Crowns that had fallen at His feet, He shall never, ever show partiality. In His hold, He had those who sought refuge, those who chased glory, and those who simply desired His presence.
Where, then, Kodhai wondered, did she fit in?
What did she want, and what was she planning to do to get that?
Saranagathi – the complete absolving of all ego – that was the price she was willing to pay. In all his sermons, Vishnu Cittar had repeatedly insisted on one thing. Bhakthi is a one way road – it gave everything one had, without expecting anything in return.
The diversions like desires and demands eventually altered one’s course, but the ones who sought Him, and Him alone were sure to reach Him.
Amidst everything plaguing her mind, Kodhai knew that it would be a tall order to focus on wanting and needing him in the perspective of surrender, with the complete dissolution of all the stories she had heard about His pranks and plays.
She wondered if she would be distracted, though, by those who had sought and failed. And then she remembered – the treatment to all that, would only be the divine gaze, before which sorrows melted like the morning dew.
அங்கண்மா ஞாலத் தரச ரபிமான
பங்கமாய் வந்துநின் பள்ளிக்கட் டிற்கீழே
சங்க மிருப்பார்போல் வந்து தலைபெய்தோம்
கிங்கிணி வாய்ச்செய்த தாமரைப் பூப்போலே
செங்கண் சிறுச்சிறிதே யெம்மேல் விழியாவோ
திங்களு மாதித் தியனு மெழுந்தாற்போல்
அங்க ணிரண்டுங்கொண் டெங்களெமேல் நோக்குதியேல்
எங்கள்மேற் சாப மிழிந்தேலோ ரெம்பாவாய்.
angkaNmaa ngyalath tharasa rabimaana
bangkamaay vandhunin paLLikkat tiRkiizhee
sangka miruppaarpool vandhu thalaippeidhoom’
kingkiNi vaaychcheitha thaamaraip pooppoole
sengkaN siRuchchiRithee emmeel vizhiyaavoo
thingkaLu maathith thiyanu mezhundhaarpool
angka NiraNtungkonT tengaLmel nookkuthjiyeel
engkaLmeeR chaaba mizhindheelo rembaavaay.