Tukaram, Poem 3352

If a man rejoices over the misfortunes of others, his pleasure and their pain and his censure too recoil on himself. Harbour not such thoughts in your mind; do not store up for yourself a capital of sin. This will linger in your mind as a torment and affliction; it will cast it into fire, till its place of rest is burned up. Tuka says, Thus all your merits will be destroyed; what is destined for us, the operation of our past brings to pass.