O Lord of Supernatural Strength, today is Your Purnima, Your "Birthday."
You have always been kind to me, the weakest in Your creation. I have never cared enough about You to give up my shadow strengths, the endless thoughts of independent plans, the attachments that preclude Your service. Today, rather than feel the strength to celebrate Your Supernatural Power, I lament.
I lament my distance from Your mercy. I lament my indifference to Your beauty. I lament my ignorance of Your mystical superhuman powers. I lament my spiritual weakness.
You disposed of Romaharsan with a single blade of kusa grass. He was very qualified, learned, elected to sit on the vyasasan by the forest sages. He was exalted a million times more than the rubber-stamped gurus of today's Iskcon. Yet, his arrogance did not inspire him to stand up and receive You upon Your arrival at the meeting. He was fit to be killed by You. Yet, the demon Duryodhana, who gave so much grief to the Pandavas, Your own devotees, you befriended and became his guru. Who can understand You?
You serve Your younger brother, Sri Krishna, in every way: as His best friend, His servant, His guru, and in the form of Ananga Manjari, as an intimate confidant in His conjugal affairs. As His older brother, You taught Him the art of flute playing so He could impress His young gopis, with music so transcendental that it bewildered even Lord Brahma and Lord Siva. No one is more dear to Krishna than You.
You also appeared as the son of Padmavati and elder brother of Mother Saci's son, Nimai. In this avatar, You traded Your supramundane powers for intoxicated bliss. You partnered with Your brother not to rid the world of demons but to deliver them thru the holy names and absolute forgiveness. Jai Nitai!
Lord of Incomparable Strength, I appeal to the transcendental pity in You. Glance at this weak jiva of Yours and remove the dark shadows that eclipse my mind and intelligence. Destroy the Rahu impressions of millions of births in this universe.
You gave benedictions to the flower merchant who garlanded You and Your brother when You entered Mathura to kill the wrestlers. I have nothing to garland You with except this insufficient prayer. Yet I pray that You benedict me also, in one of my coming crores of births, with the spirit of selfless service to You and Your brother, and attachment to Your holy names.
O Ananta Sesa, Sri Halodhar, Rohini nandana, Dauji. Happy Birthday, Lord Balaram!