Aganaanooru 138 – A case of mistaken conclusions

In this episode, we perceive the angst of a lady, as portrayed in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 138, penned by Ezhuvoo Pandri Naakan Kumaranaar. The verse is situated amidst the dark paths of the ‘Kurinji’ or ‘Mountain Landscape’ and etches a scene from a ritual of worship. இகுளை! கேட்டிசின், காதல் அம் தோழி!குவளை உண்கண் தெண் பனி மல்க,வறிது யான் வருந்திய செல்லற்கு அன்னைபிறிது ஒன்று கடுத்தனள்ஆகி வேம்பின்வெறி கொள் பாசிலை நீலமொடு சூடி,உடலுநர்க் கடந்த கடல் அம் தானை,திருந்துஇலை நெடு வேற் தென்னவன் பொதியில்,அருஞ் சிமை இழிதரும் ஆர்த்து வரல் அருவியின்ததும்பு சீர் இன் இயம் கறங்க, கைதொழுது,உரு கெழு சிறப்பின் முருகு மனைத் தரீஇ,கடம்பும் களிறும் பாடி, நுடங்குபுதோடும் தொடலையும் கைக்கொண்டு, அல்கலும்ஆடினர் ஆதல் நன்றோ? நீடுநின்னொடு தெளித்த நல் மலை நாடன்குறி வரல் அரைநாட் குன்றத்து உச்சி,நெறி கெட வீழ்ந்த துன் அருங் கூர் இருள்,திரு மணி உமிழ்ந்த நாகம் காந்தட்கொழு மடற் புதுப் பூ ஊதும் தும்பிநல் நிறம் மருளும் அரு விடர்இன்னா நீள் இடை நினையும், என் நெஞ்சே. It’s a walk at night through this landscape as we hear the lady say these words to her confidante, pretending not to notice the man listening nearby but making sure he’s in earshot: “O companion! Listen to me, my loveable friend! As my blue-lily-like, kohl-streaked eyes filled with clear tears, perceiving my sadness, mother decided that it was because of a different reason. Becoming worried, she arranged for a worship of ‘Murugu’, known for his glorious form, inviting the god home, with folded hands, singing about his burflower trees and elephants, holding a fluttering garland of palm fronds in hand, and dancing, with the accompaniment of musical instruments, brimming over with fine notes, akin to the sound of cascades that resounds and descends from the formidable peaks of the Pothiyil mountains, ruled by the Southern King, the one who wields a tall spear and commands a sea-like army that triumphs over enemies. If this worship goes on all day, is this right? The lord of the fine mountains, who has spoken for long and clarified the future to you, comes for trysts in the middle of the night, descending from the mountain’s peak, in a sharp and thick darkness that makes one lose the path, and herein a serpent, which has spit a fine jewel, looks at the bee buzzing around the new flower of the thick-petaled flame lily and mistakes its rich shine for its stone in those deadly clefts. When I think about his dangerous walk through those long paths, my heart trembles!” Let’s walk on through the mountain paths, skirting over serpents and noting the glow of the buzzing bees! The lady starts by beckoning the attention of her friend and recounts how when mother saw her tear-filled eyes, she decided that was because they had invited the ire of ‘God Murugu’ in some way and so to appease him, she arranges for the ‘Veri’ ritual. In this ritual, there’s worship with folded hands, singing about the elements that signify this God, such as his burflower tree and the elephants of his domain, and then there’s dancing to the tune of resounding musical instruments, and to etch this sound, the roaring cascades in the mountains of the victorious, battle-worthy Pandya King is called in parallel. After describing the Veri ritual, the lady asks the confidante if this goes on all day and night, is this right?  Why the lady asks this question is because she’s absolutely clear her sorrow is not because of this God, but only because she worries about the man, walking in the darkness of midnight, when he comes to tryst with her every night, fearing he may lose his path, in those mountain clefts, where serpents which have spit their gems, come searching for it and mistake the buzzing bees for their sapphires! A moment to note the Sangam belief that snakes spit gems and then moved about in the light of the same! In this scene of the snake mistaking the bees for its gems, lies a metaphor for mother mistaking the lady’s anxiety about the man as God’s ire. These words are especially for the benefit of the listening man, who had clarified to the confidante that he would wed the lady soon. This is to make him realise that the situation he’s subjecting the lady to, is unbecoming of his promise, thereby nudging him to hasten the steps to seek the lady’s hand in marriage. My wonder is why don’t these people talk directly? Why doesn’t the daughter tell her mother what she’s feeling and why she’s feeling so? Why doesn’t the lady tell the man what she wishes for him to do? Perhaps that would have suited a peaceful life but not a piece of poetry that lives on to educate us about the past! As long as we are not penning poetry, don’t you think being direct is better for our complicated lives of today?