ଶ୍ରୀ ଭୁଵନେଶ୍ଵରୀ ପଞ୍ଜର ସ୍ତୋତ୍ରମ୍

Not an armour but a cage, a panjara, and it is built entirely by repetition. Fourteen stanzas cover the directions, the vertical axis and the space in front of and behind the reciter, and each stanza is identical to the others except in two words: where the goddess is asked to stand, and the weapon she is named by while standing there. She is the discus-bearer in the east, the mace-bearer in the south-east, the conch-bearer in the south, the sword-bearer in the south-west, then the noose, the bow, the trident, the lotus, the goad, and at the last simply the armed one, everywhere at once. Every stanza then repeats the same address, knowledge of yoga, great maya, served by the host of yoginis, dark and vast and terrible, and the same abrupt line, which is not spoken to her at all: get up, Purusha, why are you sleeping, fear has come upon me. Each closes in the shape of a gayatri.