Aganaanooru 111 – Her dear in the drylands

In this episode, we perceive words of consolation, as portrayed in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 111, penned by Paalai Paadiya Perunkadunko. Set in the ‘Paalai’ or ‘Drylands landscape’, the verse vividly sketches the life in this domain. உள் ஆங்கு உவத்தல் செல்லார், கறுத்தோர்எள்ளல் நெஞ்சத்து ஏஎச் சொல் நாணிவருவர் வாழி, தோழி! அரசயானை கொண்ட துகிற் கொடி போல,அலந்தலை ஞெமையத்து வலந்த சிலம்பிஓடைக் குன்றத்துக் கோடையொடு துயல்வர,மழை என மருண்ட மம்மர் பல உடன்ஓய்களிறு எடுத்த நோயுடை நெடுங் கைதொகுசொற் கோடியர் தூம்பின் உயிர்க்கும்அத்தக் கேழல் அட்ட நற் கோள்செந்நாய் ஏற்றை கம்மென ஈர்ப்ப,குருதி ஆரும் எருவைச் செஞ் செவி,மண்டு அமர் அழுவத்து எல்லிக் கொண்டபுண் தேர் விளக்கின், தோன்றும்விண் தோய் பிறங்கல் மலை இறந்தோரே. Unlike the previous verse, this one is all about a place, and we get to hear these words said by the confidante to the lady, when the man, who left in search of wealth, remains parted away: “Without being content with what he had, feeling ashamed to hear the sharp, arrow-like words, from the mocking hearts of adversaries, he has left to the drylands, where akin to the transparent, white banners adorning a royal elephant, on the parched branches of the axlewood tree, a spider weaves its web in the Odai peak. Confused thinking that these webs are rain clouds, brought by the swaying western winds, many young elephants join together and raise their tired, tall trunks and trumpet out, making a loud sound, akin to the praising musicians’ ‘thoompu’ horns. Here, as the red dog drags the fine male boar that it attacked and killed with haste, the gushing blood is guzzled by a vulture, whose red ears, appear akin to lamps, taken out to the battlefield, at the end of the day, to scan the wounds of soldiers. He, who has left to such a drylands domain, in the sky-soaring mountains far away, will return soon, my friend! May you live long!” Time to take in the fearsome sights of the drylands! The confidante starts by spelling out the reasons for the man’s journey to the drylands in search of wealth. She remarks how the man could have stayed put, being content with the wealth he already possessed, but he feared words of mockery from his detractors and that’s why he left to the drylands. From this statement, we can infer that the unwritten code in Sangam culture was that even if a man had wealth he received from his ancestors, he was expected to earn his own. Returning to the flow of the verse, the confidante then launches into a lengthy description of the drylands, where we first see spider webs atop axlewood trees and these are placed in parallel to the silver flags on top of a royal elephant. Next, some thirsty elephants coming that way think these webs are the rain clouds brought by the winds and trumpet out aloud, which sounds like the ‘thoompu’ horns of musicians, who sing praises of kings. Then, the image of a wild boar being dragged by a red dog is brought before our eyes, and the blood that gushes out is being drunk by a red-headed vulture, whose ears are then compared to the lamps taken out to the battlefield, at the end of the day, to scan and treat the wounds of soldiers. Saying, though the man has left to such a drylands beyond the hills, he will return soon, the confidante consoles her friend. Why scare the poor girl with these gory images? Not the kind of consolation we would give but perhaps it’s a Sangam notion to be present with reality and still remain with hope. The nuance of this verse lies in how scenes in a king’s life, be it in the adornment of royal elephants, the booming praises of musicians, the treatment of soldiers in a battlefield, are compared so aptly with scenes in the wild. The ways and wars of humans aren’t so much different from the confusions and conflicts of animals, the verse seems to say, with a wise nod!