Mūka Pañcaśatī
Five hundred verses to Kāmākṣī of Kāñcī, held in the mind, bowed to at her feet, praised aloud, received in her glance and rested in her smile, the poem the tradition says a mute boy sang by her grace.
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Śataka 1ĀryāśatakamIn the āryā metre
Śataka 2PādāravindaśatakamHer lotus feet
Śataka 3StutiśatakamPraise
Śataka 4KaṭākṣaśatakamHer glance
Śataka 5MandasmitaśatakamHer gentle smile
How it came to be
At Kāñcī, in a family of astrologers, a boy was born to Vidyāvatī who could neither hear nor speak. They called him Mūka, the mute one. The learning of his house could not pass to him, and he grew up in silence close to the shrine of Kāmākṣī, the Goddess who is the heart of that city.
The tradition of the Kāñci Kāmakoṭi Pīṭha holds that Kāmākṣī's grace gave him speech, and a much loved telling says how it came. As the boy sat in the temple corridor, the Goddess came near in the form of a young woman chewing betel and offered it to the devotee beside him, who would not take it. She turned and gave it to the boy. He received it with folded hands, and speech broke from him as poetry: five hundred verses on Kāmākṣī, poured out in five hundreds. The poem remembers its own beginning when it praises her glances as
मूकात्मनामपि महाकवितावदान्यान् bountiful with great poetry even to the mute.
The ācārya of the Pīṭha in those days, Mārtāṇḍa Vidyāghana, a silent ascetic, saw what grace had done. He asked the boy's parents for him, gave him sannyāsa and set him in his own seat. The mute child became Mūka Śaṅkarendra Sarasvatī, the twentieth ācārya in the line from Śaṅkara, honoured by kings, and he held that seat until he passed on a full moon of Śrāvaṇa.
The five hundreds move as a devotee moves toward the Mother. The Āryā hundred holds her in the mind, in a soft and swaying metre. The Pādāravinda hundred bows at her lotus feet. The Stuti hundred turns to open praise in many metres. The Kaṭākṣa hundred receives her glance, and the Mandasmita hundred rests in her gentle smile, and the last verse brings one who has walked this way up to the terrace of liberation. Through all of it she is the beauty of Kāñcī and, in the same breath, the one Self that the Upaniṣads teach.
The ācāryas of Kāñcī have kept this poem close ever since. In the last century the Paramācārya called it the Goddess's own words spoken through Mūka, and gave it to devotees for every need of this life and for the knowledge that ends all need.
Reciting for a purpose
Verses kept in the Kāñcī tradition for particular needs, as the Paramācārya taught, with knowledge of the Self and liberation first.
Knowledge of the Self and liberation: the whole poem as one ascent
Read in order, the five hundreds hold her in the mind, bow at her feet, praise her aloud, receive her glance and rest in her smile, and the last verse names the summit as liberation. Reciting the whole work five times over is the practice kept for knowledge of the Self.
Seeing all things as one
Those touched by her glance see forest and house, friend and foe, as one, and she herself is named the final purport of the Vedas, the One in a form that can be loved.
Speech and eloquence
The poem began with a mute boy given speech. The Āryā hundred is recited for the gift of fluent and true words, and its closing verse promises that speech.
Wealth, insight and relief from want
This verse praises her for cutting away sin, granting insight to those at her feet and raining gold on the land of Kāñcī.
Marriage
Here she is the girl who longs to choose Śiva, garland in hand, and it is recited by those who hope for a marriage.
Health and relief from distress
Here one who has fallen into the blazing fire of becoming, troubled by torment and worry, asks her smile to sprinkle him cool; it is recited in illness.
Daily devotion
Two of the śatakas promise their own fruit to one who recites daily: honour among poets and union with her whose form is consciousness, and freedom from the need for any other rite.