Shiv Chalisa

Hail Ganesh, son of Girija, root of blessing and ocean of wisdom.

Says Ayodhyadas: grant us the boon of fearlessness.

Hail Girija’s consort, compassionate to the humble, ever nourishing saints and devotees.

The moon shines beautifully on your brow; serpent-hood earrings adorn your ears.

Fair-bodied, with Ganga flowing from your locks, a garland of skulls and ash smeared on your limbs.

Clad in tiger skin, your form enchants even the serpents who behold it.

Maina’s beloved daughter shines in wondrous beauty on your left side.

The trident in your hand looks majestic, ever destroying your foes.

How splendid Nandi and Ganesha look beside you — like lotuses amid the ocean.

Kartikeya, Shyama and the chief of ganas — this splendour no one can describe.

Whenever the gods cried out to you, you at once removed their suffering.

When Tarak wreaked great havoc, all the gods together entreated you.

At once you sent six-faced Kartikeya, who slew him in an instant.

You destroyed the demon Jalandhar; your glory is renowned throughout the world.

You waged war on Tripurasura and in grace saved everyone.

Bhagiratha performed great penance; O foe of Tripura, you fulfilled his ancient vow.

Among givers none equals you; your servants ever sing your praise.

The Vedas sing your glory, yet your untold, beginningless mystery none has fathomed.

When venom flared from the churned ocean, gods and demons alike burned in distress.

In mercy you aided them, drinking the poison — hence you are called Neelkantha, blue-throated.

When Ramchandra worshipped you, he conquered Lanka and gave it to Vibhishan.

As he offered a thousand lotuses, you, O foe of Tripura, tested him.

When you kept back one lotus, the lotus-eyed one offered his own eye in worship.

Seeing such stern devotion, Lord Shankar was pleased and granted the desired boon.

Hail, hail, hail — endless, imperishable one, dwelling in every heart, showering grace.

All the wicked torment me constantly; I wander restless, finding no peace.

Save me, save me, O Lord, I cry — come rescue me in this hour.

Take up your trident and slay my foes; come deliver me from distress.

Though I have mother, father and brothers, in distress no one asks after me.

Master, you alone are my hope — come and take away my heavy distress.

Ever you give wealth to the poor; whoever begs of you receives the fruit.

How could I ever praise you fittingly? Forgive now, O Lord, my failings.

O Shankar, destroyer of distress, cause of blessing, remover of obstacles.

Yogis, ascetics and sages meditate on you; Sharada and Narada bow their heads to you.

Salutations, hail — Namah Shivaya! Even Brahma and the gods cannot fathom you.

Whoever recites this with a devoted mind finds Shambhu as helper.

Whoever recites it, though burdened by debt, is freed and sanctified.

Whoever longs for a son assuredly gains Shiva’s grace.

Let a pandit be called on Trayodashi and perform havan with focused meditation.

Whoever ever keeps the Trayodashi fast finds no suffering remaining in the body.

Offer incense, lamp and food, and recite this before Shankar.

The sins of births upon births are destroyed; at the end one attains Shiva’s abode.

Says Ayodhyadas, my hope is in you — knowing this, take away all my sorrows.

Rising each morning, recite the Chalisa as daily rule; fulfil my wishes, O Lord of the world. In Margashirsha Shashthi of the winter season, in Samvat sixty-four, this praise-chalisa to Shiva was completed for welfare.