Natrinai 73 – Scary spirits and serene swans

May 13, 2019

In this episode, we relish the rich imagery depicted in Sangam literary work, Natrinai 73, written by Moolangkeeranaar. Set in the drylands of the ‘Paalai’ landscape, the poem revolves around the theme of separation. Speaking in the voice of the lady to her confidante, the verse expresses the lady’s anguish on hearing that her man intends to part away.

வேனில் முருக்கின் விளை துணர் அன்ன
மாணா விரல வல் வாய்ப் பேஎய்
மல்லல் மூதூர் மலர்ப் பலி உணீஇய,
மன்றம் போழும் புன்கண் மாலை,
தம்மொடும் அஞ்சும் நம் இவண் ஒழியச்
செல்ப என்ப தாமே-செவ் அரி
மயிர் நிரைத்தன்ன வார் கோல் வாங்கு கதிர்ச்
செந்நெல்அம் செறுவின் அன்னம் துஞ்சும்
பூக் கெழு படப்பைச் சாய்க்காட்டு அன்ன என்
நுதற் கவின் அழிக்கும் பசலையும்,
அயலோர் தூற்றும் அம்பலும் அளித்தே.

‘Horror’ shouts the poem as we glimpse the word ‘பேஎய்’ meaning ‘ghost’! That’s a genre I’ve always shunned when it comes to movies and yet, I was compelled to walk on, through the verse. The term ‘மூதூர்’ means ‘ancient town’ and this is fascinating because we must remember we are reading an ancient verse, dating back to more than two thousand years and in that, finding a reference to an ‘ancient’ town, only proclaims the antiquity of the Tamil culture. ‘புன்கண் மாலை’ – So many of these poems seemed to be filled with those ‘hurtful evenings’! Seeing ‘அஞ்சும்’, I see that this lady shares my ‘fear’ of the horror genre. Rhythmically similar ‘துஞ்சும்’ occurs a little later in the poem and means the opposite, ‘sleeps’, perhaps even ‘sleeps peacefully’. Those fear invoking elements in ancient inner life like ‘பசலை’ meaning ‘illness of pining’ and ‘அம்பல்’ meaning ‘slander’ make their appearance in the verse and tune our hearts to the sorrowful state of the lady. 

The man and woman have been in a happy relationship and the time comes for the man to part away from her, in search of wealth. Learning of his impending departure, the lady turns to her confidante and says, “With hideous hands that look like ripened clusters of the ‘murukku’ tree that blooms in the summer and with a mighty mouth, rises a ghost. As the sun falls, it walks to the ruins in that fertile, ancient town, to feed on flower offerings. On such sorrowful evenings, even when I am close with him, I’m terrified. Now they say that he’s to part away from me. On a field filled with long and curved, fertile stalks of the paddy crop, looking as if filled with golden strands of hair, sleeps a swan in the flower-filled village of Saaikkaadu. Endowing me with the illness of pining that will destroy the beauty of my forehead, akin to the village of Saaikkadu, and leaving me with the fate of being mocked by strangers with their slander, he is to part away. How am I to bear this?” Through these words, the lady expresses her pain at the news of the man’s parting away. 

If we dare to look beyond ghosts and the fear they evoke, we reap fascinating insights from this fertile field of poetry. First, we meet a new friend, the ‘murukku’ tree, also called as the ‘tigerclaw tree’ or the ‘coral tree’. The verse describes the tree as one that breaks into flower clusters in the ‘Venil’ or the summer season. Reading more about this tree and its flowers, I found that the Sinhalese people of Sri Lanka refer to this flower as the ‘erabadu’ and celebrate their new year when this flower blooms. Searching for it, I find that the said new year falls on April 14, which also happens to be the new year in many South Asian regions. This goes to say that even two thousand years ago, the summer or the ‘Venil’ started in the month of April. Why is this tree referred, by the way? To say that the ghost has fingers like the flower clusters of this tree. ‘Tiger claw’ and ‘ghost fingers’ – The tree’s common name and this Sangam reference stands testimony to our common human imagination across centuries and cultures. From this, we understand that some ancients believed that ghosts roamed the villages in the evening, feeding on flower offerings. A ghost that feeds on flowers? Mmm… One with a poetic sense, I suppose! Indeed, this reference to the ghost turns out to be a hidden metaphor for the affliction of pining that will feed on the beauty of the lady, as the man parts away.  The said beauty, is described by the lady as being like the lush village of ‘Saaikkaadu’ with its golden fields of paddy and flower-filled groves. This village of ‘Saaikkaadu’ is said to be an ancient village from the Sangam Era on the north shore of the Cauvery river. This beautiful village is filled with fields of ‘செந்நெல்’ or a type of paddy with a yellowish hue, and we find the simile to describe these fields as ‘செவ் அரி மயிர்’ meaning ‘golden hair’. The fields are described as looking as if golden strands of hair had been planted in the soil. Now, this made me question whether the reference to golden hair is merely the imagination of the poets, who have replaced the black hair that were accustomed to seeing with a golden colour or is it, in fact, an observation of people from other cultures, perhaps Roman, whom they have encountered in their journeys. Interesting how a simple simile evokes us to ponder upon the meeting of cultures in the ancient world. 

Returning back to the verse, on those golden fields, a swan is said to sleep peacefully. What a picturesque village! The lady, by opening with images of the terrifying ghost contrasts it with these images of a swan, asleep in the lush field of a fragrant village. With this reference to that serene swan, she paints a portrait of her current life, her peaceful life in the embrace of her man. Let’s wish that she builds the strength to face the changing circumstances of her life, realising that the only ghosts there are, are those within our minds! 

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