An Epic of Kerala

A learned scholar in the lore of the ancients as well as the works of the moderns, an earnest student of the past and the present, Rao Sahib Mahakavi Ullur S. Parameswara Aiyar stands foremost amongst the literary luminaries of Kerala. Old in age but older in wisdom, it is no wonder that his sixtieth birthday on June 4th of this year was availed of by the public to acknowledge their indebtedness to him in the enrichment of their literature. Born and bred up at Chenganassery in Travancore, he rose to be a Dewan Peshkar of the State. Never sectarian in views, nor provincial in spirit, his poetic outpourings transcended all artificial barriers and helped to endear him to all, as the ‘mahakavi’ (great poet) of modern Malayalam. Every line of his writings reveals his profound scholarship and the width of his outlook. As a noble poet and prose writer he is well known among his countrymen as an outstanding literary figure. The only other poet who shares his laurels is Mr. Vallathol Narayana Menon, but they differ so much in their style and diction that the latter belongs to a different poetic realm altogether. While Vallathol revels in poetic flights of fancy, soaring like a swan, Ullur sallies forth like a ceremonial march past, with studied gait and measured steps. Both delight us, each in his own way.

Among the numerous works of Ullur, Umakeralam for lucidity of expression and wealth of description stands supreme and is no doubt the magnum opus of Mr. Parameswara Aiyar. It is a historical romance, and the life and times of Rani Sethu Umabai are dealt with in a masterly manner, the dry bones of history being skillfully clothed with the flesh and blood of romance. The story, in brief, is this. It is the middle ages in Kerala. The rulers of Venad, the then Travancore, have not acquired much power and the nobles of the land known as Ettuvittil Pillamar are plotting the downfall of Vanchipala Aditya Varma and usurp the throne, but the chief obstacle in their way is the young and able minister Ravi Varma Thampan. The King’s beautiful daughter Kalyani loves the minister who reciprocates her love. The traitors resort to treachery and approach the King as most loyal subjects, and within a short time sow the seeds of suspicion in his mind that the minister is trying to usurp the throne. Soon after, one of the villains sets fire to the palace but is caught red-handed by the minister and killed in the struggle. However, the King believes that the incendiarism is the work of the minister and banishes him from the land. Having gained this step, the traitors bribe the priests of the Padmanabha temple to poison the King. The King realises his folly too late and pays the penalty with his life. His sister, Uma Rani, after whom the work is named, succeeds as regent, her sons being minors. Ere long, except Ravi Varma, all her other sons are drowned by the notorious noble, Ramanamadom. At this stage a Mahomedan army besieges Travancore. Chempazhanthi, a youth belonging to the Ettuvittar family, makes amorous advances to Kalyani, but is spurned by her. He tries to abduct her, and is killed in the act by the minister. A follower of Chempazhanthi aims his sword at Kalyani, while the minister is fighting another. Unable to rescue her, her lover swoons. Kalyani is saved by the Mahomedan general and carried away to his harem. Uma Rani procures the help of Kerala Varma, prince of North Kottayam, through the minister, and the armies raised by them repel the invaders. In the midst of the fierce battle, finding defeat certain, the captain of the Muslim forces sneaks away to his camp to outrage the modesty of Kalyani, but is fatally stabbed by her. The armies of Travancore triumph, the enemy is routed, peace is restored, and the minister marries his lady-love. The Rani gives permission to the English to establish a factory and erect a fort at Anjengo, to be a friend and ally of Travancore for ever.

The first publication of this book was in 1913. Twenty-four long years have passed since then, and the work has stood the test of time and won the appreciation of critics. At a time , when original works in Malayalam literature were very scanty, and Kerala had not come into her own, Umakeralam enriched the language. "A rich and royal literary repast," wrote Kerala Kalidasa Kerala Varma Valia Koil Thampuran, "the parting of the minister and his lady-love in Canto III, the poisoning of the King in Canto V, the drowning of the princes in Canto VII, the lament of the Rani in Canto VIII, and the murder of the Sirdar in Canto XV, are all portrayed with a freshness of imagination, an originality of thought, and a delicateness of touch, which does infinite credit to our talented author. There is hardly a dull or uncouth line in the whole poem. In the vividness of its imagery, in the grandeur of its conception, and in the exquisiteness of its workmanship, this great poem of Parameswara Aiyar, with its lengthy cantos, may not be inaptly compared to that admirable masterpiece in Sanskrit literature, the Naishadhiyacharita of Sriharsha, and will be seen to suffer in the least by comparison. Both these great works are not meant for the ignorant or the careless reader but, on the other hand, for persons of taste and culture who are prepared to make a study of them." With Ullur study has seasoned taste which is seen in his poems. Hence a scholar alone can understand sahridaya-hridaya. A diamond shines only when cut. So is Ullur’s poetry. The work bristles with ornamented verse throughout. Similes abound. The observations of the poet sparkle as gems on a necklace. The alliteration of the second letter in every line of a stanza known as dwitiyaksharaprasa on which so much praise has been bestowed by Raja Raja Varma in his Sahitisarvaswam, that it is as indispensable an ornament to Indian verse as the mangalyasutra to a married woman, is seen throughout the 19 cantos.

It is extremely difficult to pick holes in such celebrated works, but since nothing is absolutely perfect in this world of ours, the literary world is no exception. Sirdar K. M. Panikkar in his Kavitatatwa-nirupanam in the chapter entitled ‘Defects’ (Anouchitya-vicharam) cites certain passages to illustrate his contentions and drive home his arguments, and in doing so certain verses from Umakeralam are also quoted to show that in such places the particular expressions or similes have not been happy. Such occasional lapses do exist as sharks in an ocean where pearls do abound. When all is said, the fact remains that it is the work of a master-artist who is conscious of every line he draws and every shade he paints, and it will not be an exaggeration to claim that Ullur has raised, by his endeavour, modern Malayalam verse to the pitch of medieval Sanskrit poetry, and it is certainly a pleasure to read and enjoy this outstanding Kerala classic.