Introduction to Section 4.4

In the last decad, the Āḻvār rejoiced, over head and ears, in the sweet contemplation of the connubial love subsisting between him and the Lord. The Lord, however, apprehended that the Āḻvār might be swept off his feet and thrown overboard by such exuberance of joy, the overwhelming divine ecstasy jeopardising one’s very existence. As already pointed out, at length, in the preamble to 1-9, He is known to regulate the flow of His grace, consistent with the recipient’s capacity for in-ṭake and He, therefore, brought down the tempo, a little, just to stabilise the Āḻvār’s God-enjoyment. Even this slight diminution, in his erstwhile enjoyment, upset the Āḻvār and reduced him to the plight of Śrī Rāma, during his separation from Sītā. Śrī Rāma is said to have gone about asking the trees, the rivers (east-bound female rivers as well as the west-bound male rivers) and other inanimate objects, about the whereabouts of Sītā. And now, the Āḻvār, transformed once again as Parāṅkuśa Nāyakī, in a state of heavy depression, runs after the objects resembling her beloved Lord, in one respect or another, and things usually associated with Him and the disenchantment brought about, on nearer approach, makes her dumb-founded. This is like a man, dispossessed of his treasure, the money-bag, running about frantically, mistaking, as his own, the bags of others resembling his lost bag.

The Mother comes on the scene once again and relates the pitiable predicament of her daughter and the words she utters. The Mother also reveals her own sad plight, seeing her daughter in great distress. The merciful Lord, however, presents Himself before the Āḻvār, towards the end of this decad (tenth song) and puts the Āḻvār back on his feet.