Tukaram, Poem 1309

Inwardly there is a group of twelve or sixteen players, the seventeenth player, the leader, is the self. Our feet shall keep time to the measure, so we shall attend thoughtfully to our sticks; our cymbals will ring to the heart’s tune. We will go dancing to play at Pandhari; we will see Vitthala and Rakhumai; he is beyond the six Shastras and the four Vedas and the eighteen Puranas; we will sing to Him and beat time together. The birds forget to take food and water; the young women forget their youth and beauty. The joy of this game gives speech to the dumb and hearing to the deaf, eyes to the blind and feet to the lame. Tuka says, It makes the old young again.