Kurunthogai 351 – Crab claws and town tongues

May 23, 2022

In this episode, we perceive the perfect fusion of elements in nature and emotions in human nature, as depicted in Sangam Literary work, Kurunthogai 351, penned by Ammoovanaar. Set in the coastal regions of ‘Neythal’, the verse speaks in the voice of the confidante to the lady, conveying a happy news to her friend.

வளையோய்! உவந்திசின்-விரைவுறு கொடுந் தாள்
அளை வாழ் அலவன் கூர் உகிர் வரித்த
ஈர் மணல் மலிர் நெறி சிதைய, இழுமென
உரும் இசைப் புணரி உடைதரும் துறைவற்கு
உரிமை செப்பினர் நமரே; விரிஅலர்ப்
புன்னை ஓங்கிய புலால்அம் சேரி
இன் நகை ஆயத்தாரோடு
இன்னும் அற்றோ, இவ் அழுங்கல் ஊரே?

‘Here he comes to silence the slander’ is the core thought herein! The opening words ‘வளையோய்! உவந்திசின்’ meaning ‘O maiden wearing bangles! I’m joyous’ clearly indicate that good tidings are about to follow. From abstract delight, the verse turns to the real world and points to us, ‘அளை வாழ் அலவன்’ meaning ‘crabs that live in holes’. Further elements of this setting appear in ‘உரும் இசைப் புணரி’ meaning ‘waves with a roaring music’. The phrase ‘உரிமை செப்பினர் நமரே’ meaning ‘our relatives have declared his right’ seems like a cryptic statement, about which we will explore shortly. A moment to dwell on the word ‘செப்பினர்’ and the core verb ‘செப்பு’, which means ‘to tell’, and to reflect on how this very word is still employed in the same meaning, not in Tamil but in the sister language of Telugu, giving proof for the oneness of South Indian languages, and by extension, the people. Continuing, the tree that often shines on these shores comes to view with ‘புன்னை ஓங்கிய புலால்அம் சேரி’ meaning ‘the flesh-smelling hamlet, where flourishes the laurel wood tree’. Ending with the words ‘இவ் அழுங்கல் ஊரே’ meaning ‘this uproarious town’, the verse welcomes us to listen and learn.

Here, crabs scurry about, ‘punnai’ trees dance in the meat-smelling breeze and waves roar about the joyous future! The context reveals that the man and lady were leading a love relationship and the man was trysting with the lady for a while. At a point, the man decides to seek the lady’s hand and formalise their union. Just then, the lady worries if her family would accept the man. To her, the confidante says, “O bangle-adorned maiden! I’m filled with joy. Those quick feet crabs, having curving legs and living in mud holes, with their sharp claws, draw lines on wet sands. To ruin these lines on that sand path, with a loud sound, roaring, comes the waves in the shores of the lord. Our relatives have confirmed his right now! Ours is a hamlet smelling of fish flesh, where soars the ‘punnai’ trees with wide-open flowers, and where live our playmates with happy smiles. How can it continue to be the same, this uproarious village of ours?” With these words, the confidante is assuring the lady that all’s well and wedding bells shall ring and drown out the gossiping voices in town!

What has happened to fill the confidante with such cheer? Let’s listen to her words closely and find out! She starts by addressing the lady with the epithet of ‘a bangle-adorned maiden’. It was a strict rule in Sangam poetry to never identify the protagonist, which means, no names and nothing that would point to a specific person. That’s why this choice of an epithet, which would actually mean every single Sangam maiden. Returning, after calling the lady thus, the confidante declares that she’s bubbling with joy but instead of saying why she’s so happy, the confidante takes us to a spot in the seashore, where crabs living in mud holes seemed to be sketching lines on the wet sand with their sharp claws and this artwork was being shattered with the rolling in of the roaring waves. The confidante then tells us this is not any old seashore, but that of the man. After describing his land, she mentions that the lady’s relatives have given him the right. From that statement, we learn that this is nothing but the right to marry the lady and it was something that the lady’s family could withhold or render unto a suitable suitor! 

Then, the confidante talks about their own flesh-reeking village, where tall ‘punnai’ trees soar and their beautiful smiling playmates live, and ends with the question about how that village could continue being the same anymore. By that, she means that since the lady’s relatives have accepted the man’s proposal, that was the death knell to the slanders spread by the townsfolk about the lady’s relationship with the man. In the image of the waves destroying the line art of the sharp-clawed crabs, the confidante conceals this same metaphor of the wedding announcement ending the town’s gossip. Note the nuance in comparing the sharp tongues of the town with the sharp claws of the crab! In the other scene of their hamlet, which has soaring and fragrant ‘punnai’ trees as well as flesh-smelling shores owing to the fish trade, the confidante talks about how although there was the reek of rumours, the fragrance of marriage would drown that away. Two detailed descriptions of elements on a seashore concealing two striking events in the lady’s life. Yet another illustration of how these ancients saw the world within them in the world outside of them: Be it in the swift walk of crabs, the roaring of waves or the ‘punnai’ leaves dancing in the breeze, it was all ‘them and their emotions’. What an indelible way of imprinting on the sands of the world that human nature and nature are inseparable! 

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