In this episode, we listen to a person’s attempt to change another’s course of action, as portrayed in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 360, penned by Madurai Kannathanaar. The verse is situated amidst the bee-buzzing blue lotuses of the ‘Neythal’ or ‘Coastal landscape’ and seemingly proposes a change in the trysting spot.
பல் பூந் தண் பொழில், பகல் உடன் கழிப்பி,
ஒரு கால் ஊர்திப் பருதி அம் செல்வன்
குடவயின் மா மலை மறைய, கொடுங் கழித்
தண் சேற்று அடைஇய கணைக் கால் நெய்தல்
நுண் தாது உண்டு வண்டினம் துறப்ப,
வெருவரு கடுந் திறல் இரு பெருந் தெய்வத்து
உரு உடன் இயைந்த தோற்றம் போல,
அந்தி வானமொடு கடல் அணி கொளாஅ,
வந்த மாலை பெயரின், மற்று இவள்
பெரும் புலம்பினளே தெய்ய; அதனால்,
பாணி பிழையா மாண் வினைக் கலி மா
துஞ்சு ஊர் யாமத்துத் தெவிட்டல் ஓம்பி,
நெடுந் தேர் அகல நீக்கி, பையெனக்
குன்று இழி களிற்றின் குவவு மணல் நீந்தி,
இரவின் வம்மோ உரவு நீர்ச் சேர்ப்ப!
இன மீன் அருந்து நாரையொடு பனைமிசை
அன்றில் சேக்கும் முன்றில், பொன் என
நல் மலர் நறு வீ தாஅம்
புன்னை நறும் பொழில் செய்த நம் குறியே.
In this trip to this shore, we get to witness changing moments of time, as we listen to the confidante say these words to the man, when he prepares to leave after his tryst by day, with the lady:
“In the moist grove, filled with many flowers, after spending the day with her, as that noble lord riding the one-wheeled chariot vanishes into the huge mountains in the west, as bees feeding on the fine pollen of the thick-stalked blue lotus, amidst the thick and cool slush of the curving backwaters, part away, taking an appearance, as if the forms of the two great gods with fearsome strength are united as one, as the twilight sky lights up the seas, if you part away as the evening hour arrives, she ends up being filled with great sorrow. And so, taking care that your well-adorned, proud horses, which never miss a step, wake not the sleeping town in the midnight hour, leaving your tall chariot far behind, quickly crossing the peaks of heaped sands, akin to elephants, why don’t you come at night, O lord of the seas, to our front yard, where upon a palm tree, a stork which has fed on schools of fish and the red-naped ibis nest at night, to the trysting spot I propose, near the fragrant grove, filled with fine, fallen, fragrant flowers of the laurel wood tree!”
Let’s walk on those ancient shores and listen to a plan! The confidante starts by describing what the man usually does, which is to spend the day with the lady, and then leave as the sun sets, the blue-lotus closes its buds, and the sky is coated in the twin colours of red and blue, which is associated here with the fusion of two unnamed Gods. She talks about how this fills the lady with much sorrow. So, instead of that usual course, the confidante concludes by proposing that the man takes care that his horses do not wake the sleeping town and come walking down the sand mounds to their front yard, where assorted birds such as the stork and ibis would be retiring for the night upon a palm tree, and meet the lady near the grove with fragrant laurel wood flowers.
At the core, it seems to be a ‘Don’t come at this time. Come later’ message and an invitation to tryst closer home, but in essence, it’s a ‘Marry her, Marry her’ message because that path of meeting the lady at night near her house is filled with the danger of discovery. The similes such as the sun riding a one-wheeled chariot and the one which describes sand mounds as elephants etch the time and place vividly in our minds.
