The Religion and Philosophy of Tevaram (Thevaram)

by M. A. Dorai Rangaswamy | 1958 | 410,072 words

This page describes “thiruvanchikulam or tiruvancaikkalam (hymn 4)” from the part dealing with the Pilgrim’s progress (unto the last), which represents the development of Arurar’s Mysticism as gleaned from his hymns. The 7th-century Thevaram (or Tevaram) contains devotional poems sung in praise of Shiva. These hymns form an important part of the Tamil tradition of Shaivism

Chapter 96 - Thiruvanchikulam or Tiruvancaikkalam (Hymn 4)

[Note: Thiruvanchikulam is also spelled as Thiruvanjaikalam or Thiruvanjikulam.]

I

This is the hymn on the Father of Ancaikkalam, the temple at Karur or Vanci. Every verse ends with the address, ‘Ancaikkalattappane’. This usage of addressing God as Appan of the temple as Guruvayur Appan, etc., is widespread even now in Malabar. Our poet had prayed for a birthless state (92:3). This hymn reveals the highest state of spiritual development, an intense emotion of jnana, almost an identity with God, a natural loosening of attachment to the world as though there is no more use for him in this world, a readiness to quit the world if God so decides but no more assertions of his own, even if it be a prayer for birthless state or an escape from Hell—a feeling of self-surrender leaving everything to be done as God wills.

This hymn begins with questions about the peculiar ornaments of the Lord even as it was found in the Bhikshatana hymns (No. 36, verse 7 and also in hymn No. 6). The Bhikshatana hymns, as already referred to, form the one great motif of Arurar’s art, as the best vehicle of his mystic thought. The personal narrations have been predominating latterly in his hymns but now comes the calm and peace and he with his chilalike simplicity goes back to the puranic stories seeing therein the best way of expressing his experience of the Lord. The complete identity of love takes the form of the happy speech of a damsel in love with the Bhikshatana form.

II

“Why (of what significance) is the adornment of the laurel of skulls on your crown?” (1). “Why is this wearing of the flood of the Ganges on your mat-lock?” (1) “Why is this clothing yourself with the tiger’s skin and why this tightening it up with the tape of poisonous serpent?” (1). “Why is the wearing of the serpent after catching and making it dance?” (See the reference to holding of the serpent to dance in the Bhikshatana hymn) (2). “Why thus adorning yourself with the crescent moon on the mat-lock?” (2). “Why is this besmearing of the ash all over your body?” (2). “Why is this loving ride on the bull?” (2). “What is the fruit of salvation?” (5). “What is the result of birth?” (5). “When elephants are standing at your beck and call, why ride on the bull?” (5). “Why crown yourself with the damsel of the Ganges whilst you stand embracing the damsel of the mountain?” (5). “What is the thing you confer on those scholars who sing of You?” (5). “Why this midnight dance of the graveyard?” (6). “Why this begging with deadmanis skull?” (6). “What is the substantial thing that those who worship and praise you get?” (6).

III

In a way all the mystic significance of the Puranic stories which we had explained elsewhere thus comes here as it were in a final flash with a glow of complete realization and mystic love. Without any such interrogations, the poet lovingly and significantly addresses the Lord’s puranic personality as the Vedic scholar with the ears wearing the shining Kundala (suggesting He is all ears) (8) and the Lord who vanquished Ravana (8), as the Lord who shines with the dark and sapphire like throat after the feast of poison (8), as the One who cut away one of the heads of Brahma and as the destroyer of the three cities (8). These addresses are continued with more direct and revealing experiences and conclusions of his. “You are the gooseberry fruit (tasting sweet every time it is enjoyed) to those who wake up ever contemplating on you. Whether they are great or small, if your thought begins to spread in their mind, they that worship you before anything else will never die and never be born again” (3). “You are the Seer of the Seers, the Eternal of the Eternals” (3). “You are like what the vowel is to the letters (or the life unto the pictures). You are like what the leaves (the feeders) are for the trees; You are like unto Yourself. You are like what the cloud is to the sprouting crops. You are the refuge of your servants” (4).

Then follow his assertions: “I assert or I say that You are the Creator, Destroyer, and Sustainer. I state that You are the significance of words uttered by the speakers. I state that You are the tongue, the ear and the eyes. O, Good! Now I have realized you completely” (7). This is followed by two great assertions casually made in the midst of his joy of the puranic descriptions. “I have become sick of the surfeit of the domestic life and I left it off completely” (8). “I will not forget you” (9). “He is our Lord and Master, the Lord of the Eternals, He who for ever showers His Grace on me, my Father of Ancaikkalam” (10).

IV

The poet once again takes an innoncent pleasure in Nature and we have here the description of the sea port of Vanci of his times. The city is called Makotai: “Katalankaraimel Makotai aniyar polil Ancaikkalattappane” (1)—“The father of Ancaikkalam of groves in Makotai in the sea beach”. It is the fourth line in every one of the first nine verses except the third. To it, the first foot is added variously according to the rules of assonance—‘Alaikkun katal” (1)—‘the sea where the waves roll to and fro’; “At it tar katal” (2), “Atikkum katal” (9)—‘the full sea which dashes against the beach’; “Alaikkum katal” (4)—‘the sea that calls’; “Atum katal” (5)—‘the sea that dances (with its waves) or plays’; “Aravakkatal” (6)—‘the sea of great noise’; “Arkkum katal” (7)—‘the roaring sea’ and “Antan katal” (10) ‘the beautiful cool sea’.

“The forceful waves like mountains draw inside the sea (everything caught) and then dash against the shore with a great roar and tease the ‘valampuri’ conch carried by them” (1). “The forceful waves curl back and then run forward and dash against the beach so that the growing conches open their mouth and pour out their pearls” (2). “The waves like connected huge and dark mountains ceaselessly topple over the shore” (3). “The powerful waves like rain-bearing clouds draw in and dash against the beach with a roar calling in, with valampuri conches, the people” (4). “In the motion of the ships which have made possible the amassing of many a treasure, the dance of the sea is seen” (5). “The sea brings the conches, the oyster and the pearl and dashes them with force on the beach and with a roar resonating through the valampuri conches” (6). “Any number of ships are laden with many a treasure which inspire as with varied thoughts and the sea carries these ships pushing them on to move with a roar” (7). “A few forceful waves powerfully draw the things and thereafter dash against the beach with a roar as though straining the water with the ‘valampuri’ conches they carry” (9).

Here we have a picture of the powerful Arabian sea carrying the ships to distant countries. It is surprising that our poet has given no such description of Negapatam or Pt. Calimere. The mighty waves remind us of the activities of the Lord rising forth from the Absolute of an ocean blessing the world all through these activities, the pearls and conches and carrying the ships of all our efforts and dreams without realizing which we groan and moan in this world.

The poet has a vision of the Lord with the sea as the background and exclaims, “O, Lord, Our father of Ancaikkalam, Lord of the beautiful gardens on the sea! You look like the ruddy evening heavens” (3):—a beautiful description of the setting sun being thus deified in the eye of the saint. Whatever confusion and commotion might have been in the heart of the poet, they have completely disappeared, leaving a calm and peaceful experience of divinity, the commotion and confusion being now seen only in the waves springing up from the quiet ocean—even here the commotion and confusion being really the play of the Lord, play intended for the benefit of the souls which because of their blurred vision speak of confusion and commotion and run away from these blessings in fright and ignorance.

V

The poet has experienced whilst singing this hymn a calmness and peace of mind that he assures those who fall at the feet of the Lord with this garland of hymn of cool Tamil of ever increasing rhythm that they will also experience the same peace of mind without any agitations or confusions of mind. Everything now becomes harmonious as music and whilst calling himself Nampiyuran, the chief of the people of Navalur, he describes that city of his as the place where resounds the musical rhythm of the drum and the flute with a restraint and slow movement (10).

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