The River Speaks

by Elizabeth Rani Segran

  let us walk forward together.’

  Women, covered in garments,

  are sullen in their chariots;

  men try to dispel their melancholy,

  and succeed in appeasing them.

  People

  dance, sing, create chaos,

  laugh, run laughing,

  get tired from running.

  Lines 17–39

  Some look for their families,

  but no one turns back to the city.

  The learned and the ignorant,

  the lowly,

  parents,

  women who submit to their husbands,

  the townspeople,

  together with the rider of the golden chariot,

  come from Kutal with its beautiful walls,

  to crowd Vaiyai’s shallow waters.

  The women’s foreheads are radiant, like crescent moons.

  In the shallow waters,

  they capture their husband’s shoulders,

  to use them as rafts.

  These husbands are unaware

  of other women,

  bathing in secluded places.

  And there,

  seeing the Vaiyai

  bringing forth all these things,

  Lines 40–59

  causing pleasure

  that is the very antithesis of sorrow,

  as the shallow waters diminish,

  he lets his fragrant garland drift

  on the water’s surface.

  She sees the other woman

  lift it from the water

  and place it on her head.

  She

  ‘Give it to me! Give it to me!’

  The Other Woman

  ‘The river gave me this garland

  for me to wear on my head.’

  She

  ‘But how could this be?

  You, with your fine ornaments,

  I am not unhappy with you,

  but,

  ‘did the fresh waters know you were here?

  Did they unite you with this garland?

  Oh, what a big surprise!’

  Lines 60–80

  (to her man)

  ‘This beautiful other woman,

  you seek her for lovemaking alone;

  ‘it was her tender breasts,

  and the surrounding waters

  that brought the garland to her;

  ‘and you, by casting the flowers into the waters,

  brought it to her as well.’

  In Kutal,

  city of the glorious Pañcavan

  who does not yield to another,

  righteous women

  guarding their chastity,

  sparkling like gems,

  with complexions like tender mango leaves,

  teeth like pearls,

  lips red as coral,

  bathe

  with the men

  who belong to them.

  Vaiyai’s waters do not recede.

  Lines 81–101

  She

  ‘Wearing the garland for the world to see,

  the other woman said,

  “This floated on my head by chance.”

  Such heartlessness leads to sorrow,

  causing pain to a heart that ponders it.

  If gossip travels,

  reaching her before they unite,

  will she not brood angrily?’

  And there,

  Parppars avoid their austerities, saying,

  ‘The river contains brewed liquor

  and swarms with flies.’

  Antanars do not bathe, saying,

  ‘The river is strewn with fragrant flowers,

  worn by both men and women.’

  Aiyars do not sip the waters, saying,

  ‘Vaiyai is thick and unctuous

  with the honey flowing in it.’

  Loud waters rush

  crashing against the

  shallow banks.

  Lines 102–23

  The river,

  beginning in the mountains,

  carries foam

  to the banks and the seas.

  Foamy waters,

  flooding the dam,

  rise along the banks.

  Waters gush forward

  entering the surging seas,

  yet, the deluge does not abate.

  Groups of men and women

  riding well-trained jewelled elephants, large as mountains,

  reach the expanse of Tirumarutamunturai,

  the place that belongs to the warring one,

  with his swift chariots

  and his elephants decked in lustrous gems.

  The paṇan plays

  the marutam melody

  on his enchanting yal,

  while those in the galloping waters

  Lines 124–43

  sing

  sing

  play

  play or quarrel

  quarrel

  with their husbands

  who, in turn, placate them

  so that they want to make love

  and are happy once more.

  Others,

  searching

  searching

  for their lovers,

  broken-hearted, put on garlands,

  praising, praising the Vaiyai.

  In the lavish, muddy Vaiyai waters,

  women of excellent virtues bathe with their men.

  O excellent ones, these waters appear

  to have been swallowed and spat out again;

  paste, fragrant garlands,

  strings of flowers for women’s hair,

  powders, flowers fallen from locks:

  because of these things

  the river is no longer clear.

  Lines 144–67

  Vaiyai looks like the murky waters

  of a pond, dry without rains,

  where people clean their mouths and bathe,

  where turmeric and vermilion pastes

  have been washed away.

  Maran,

  with broad shoulders,

  owner of terrifying, murderous elephants,

  joins the fair people of Kutal

  bathing in the Vaiyai.

  How to describe this bathing in the Vaiyai’s flowing waters?

  There is not one place

  in this wide world,

  surrounded by seas,

  that is equal to it.

  No,

  it resembles the bathing of Intiran—

  the one with a thousand eyes—

  in the celestial river

  in the skies.

  Lines 168–87

  Notes to the Poems

  These notes are meant to provide the reader a more detailed understanding and appreciation of the Vaiyai poems in the Paripāṭal. Even a quick reading of these poems indicates that the poets of this era drew their inspiration from a large matrix of ideas. Consequently, the poems are extremely stylized. The aim of these notes is to direct the reader’s attention both to this larger literary tradition (to which the Paripāṭal belongs) and to elaborate on some of the themes, images and expressions commonly used in the Vaiyai poems.

  A good portion of these notes is a translation of excerpts from an influential commentary written by Parimelalakar (circa eleventh century CE). For our translation, we have followed U.V. Swaminatha Aiyar’s edition of the Paripāṭal. 1 Where appropriate, we have also translated excerpts from a more recent commentary written by a twentieth-century Tamil scholar, Po. Ve. Comacuntaranar. 2 In these notes, we shall refer to Parimelalakar’s commentary as Pari.

  The numerals following the commentator’s name refer respectively to the poem number in the Pari. anthology and the line number in the Tamil version. Coma. refers to the commentary written by Comacuntaranar. Translations from the commentaries always appear as a block quotation, distinguishing them from our comments.

  The compilers of caṉkam poetry added a colophon to each poem. This colophon is supposed to provide
the reader the specific context in which the protagonists (in the poems) speak. We have also translated excerpts from these colophons, augmenting it (where appropriate) with a discussion of the poem’s theme.

  Paripāṭal VI

  Poet: Maturai Aciriyan Nallantuvanar

  Music: Maruttuvan Nallacutanar

  Melody: Pālaippaṇ

  Three other poems in the Paripāṭal (two on Vaiyai and one on Murukan) are attributed to this poet. Swaminatha Aiyar 3 notes in his introductory essay on the Paripāṭal that the poet Nallantuvanar is famous for his beautiful description of Murukan in Tirupparankunru (a hill eight kilometres to the south-west of Maturai), and Aiyar identifies him tentatively as the poet Tantuvan mentioned in another caṉkam anthology, the Akananuru. 4 Aiyar also identifies this poet with one of the five poets who composed the verses in another caṉkam anthology, the Kalittokai. This view is supported by comparative studies of the Paripāṭal and Kalittokai.

  The colophon to this poem identifies four principal characters—the hero, the heroine, the hero’s mistress and his concubine. The mistress, hearing that the hero bathed in the Vaiyai with his concubine, gets angry with him; the hero pacifies her and makes love to her. Angered by the hero’s infidelity, the heroine, who is aware of the hero’s dalliances with both concubine and mistress, refuses to be pacified by the dancer whom the hero sends as his messenger. According to the colophon, the poem is to be understood as the heroine speaking to the dancer. Parimelalakar’s commentary on this poem also follows this assignment.

  We note that these assignments are never stated explicitly in the poems; nor are the characters mentioned. However, a careful reading of this poem reveals some hints about the protagonists. Lines 135–213 of the poem are in the form of a dialogue between a man and a woman. The dialogue opens with the woman saying that the man brought her flowers, which he had plucked for someone else. Later, she uses the feminine noun in asking, ‘did she reject your gift?’ and refers to the other woman as one ‘who always thirsts for something new’—a subtle reference to the morals of the other woman. In Line 174, the woman refers to the hero as someone living in a neighbouring town, making her unlikely to be the hero’s wife. Lines 214–30 are in the form of advice given to this woman. The poem calls the people who advise her, illavar—people of (her) home. In our translation, we followed Parimelalakar in identifying these people as the older women in the woman’s home.

  In lines 231–47, another person speaks. This person is identified in the colophon as the heroine (the hero’s wife); Parimelalakar and subsequent commentators follow this assignment. There are two reasons why we subscribe to this view. The tenor of the person who speaks these lines borders on the bitter and her final words addressing the river—‘Vaiyai, you cause desire to swell in the hearts / of those who bathe in you. / May this trait never leave you’—sound ironic. It is perhaps for this reason that the colophon identifies the situation as vayil maruttal—refusing entry to an unchaste husband.

  Lines 7–8

  the waters spreading like the flood at the time of cosmic dissolution (Pari. 6:3)

  Line 9

  mountain animals: deer, etc. (Pari. 6:4)

  Lines 15–17

  so that the poems sung by the tongues of poets whose wisdom is acclaimed (Pari. 6:7–10)

  The line refers to poems that sing the glory of the Vaiyai. Some examples cited by Aiyar include Kalittokai 67:2–3 and Cilappatikaram 13:169–70.

  Lines 22–28

  For drying themselves after bathing in the river, the women take with them fragrant wood, and fire to burn the wood. They also carry flowers to wear on their heads, oblations and other offerings to the river such as golden fish. The advent of the river causes their happy lovers to wear clothes appropriate for this day (Pari. 6:11–13)

  Oblations to the river are also mentioned in Paripāṭal X. This poem refers to women letting golden fish, crabs, etc., into the river, saying, ‘“Prosper!” “Grow!”’. See, Paripāṭal X:142–44.

  In the two following parts, we see a format common to the Vaiyai poems. The river is described using two disparate themes—love and war. Whereas lines 29–48 can be read as a metaphor for lovemaking, lines 59–82 compare the festivities in the Vaiyai to the scenes in a battlefield.

  Lines 29–53

  Their happiness causes their hands to swell and bangles become tight; armbands worn on the shoulders slide to the forearms; figures drawn on their bodies with sandalwood paste mix with one another and get smudged; the jewelled girdle round their waists is broken and the thread shows; pearl necklaces with round clasps are smudged by the pastes on their bodies; the red dye painted on their nails and cheeks gets erased; the saffron paste on their breasts becomes like silt and their garlands made of leaves and flowers and their hair erase the sandal paste on their bodies. Ornaments worn on chests and breasts are locked in embrace. [In this way] the flowing river breaks dams as high as mountains, just as hearts united in desire break the barriers of chastity (Pari. 6:14–24)

  Lines 56–57

  Many of the Vaiyai poems refer to the sounding of the drums heralding the advent of the river; see, for example, Paripāṭal X:13.

  Lines 59–84

  To bathe in the tumultuous river that day, female elephants wearing ornaments appropriate for bathing march in line, like mighty male elephants that march to battle. Young men and women, having removed their fine jewels, now wear ornaments for bathing. Riding elephants and proud horses that trot gently, they are keen to begin their mock battle. Desiring to find a suitable battlefield in the clear waters, they overtake one another and march onward to the river like foot soldiers eager to do battle. Armed with weapons like squirts filled with perfume and horns that contain fragrant water, some of them ride floats made of pith and coloured floats that look like chariots. Crowds of horses and elephants abandon their ranks and block the paths of those who are on their way [to the river]; those who lead them [the elephants and horses] walk slowly and wander everywhere (Pari. 6:25–37)

  Line 85

  The text reads ceri ilaiyar celavaru nilaiyar. Pari. glosses this saying,

  young men unable to go to the outskirts [of the city] seeking love (Pari. 6:38–42)

  Coma. follows this and writes ceri—purañceri [outskirts]:

  youngsters who seek love on the outskirts (Coma. 6:38–45)

  Lines 89–93

  Scents of the river:

  the waters smell of the ten astringents, sandal paste, perfumed oils and flowers worn [by the bathers] (Pari. 6:38–42)

  waters that smell of the ten astringents, five perfumes and the thirty-two fragrances added to water [for drinking and bathing] (Coma. 6:38–45).

  See also, Paripāṭal VII:47–51.

  Lines 95–101

  ‘The Brahmins, reciters of the Vedas’—the text reads pulam puri antanar; Pari. understands puri to mean ‘to cherish’. In our translation, we interpreted puri as ‘to recite’.

  Seeing the river which smells thus, the Brahmins who cherish the Vedas are bewildered; [thinking] ‘this water, soiled by the perfumes worn by men and women has lost its purity and is now different’, they leave the waters without performing their ablutions such as bathing and the ceremonial sipping of water (Pari. 6:43–45)

  See, for a comparison, Paripāṭal Compilation:112–20.

  Lines 102–11

  And not just they [the Brahmins] … the river carries with it flowers and garlands discarded by the women and men who bathe in the river, the roots, stumps and tubers of the trees along the banks, and the toddy that remains in the food of the common folk. Seeing this, other people too think that the river has lost its goodness and leave. Thus flows the river, filled with mud (Pari. 6:46–51)

  Line 116

  ‘the mountain’—a reference to Tirupparankunru, the hill south of Maturai. The temple on the hill is worshipped today as an abode of the god Murukan. Eight of the available poems in the Paripāṭal are on Murukan, the god who resides in the h
ill near Maturai.

  Within the Tamil literary convention, the mountain is the secret meeting place of lovers. See also, lines 113–18.

  Line 133

  The poem refers to the god of love as calappataiyan (calam—fickleness, deception; patai—weapon). Both Pari. and Coma. interpret this phrase as ‘the one who is armed with deceit’, viz., the god of love. We choose to read calam as fickleness, rather than deceit.

  Line 134

  ‘Tamil Vaiyai’—this is arguably the earliest reference to the Vaiyai as a Tamil river. There are many ways to read this phrase: a reference to Vaiyai as a river that flows through the Tamil country (as opposed to the other river famous in Tamil literature—the Kaviri); an allusion to the Pāṇṭiyaṉ kings who rule the country through which the river flows, and so on. Indeed, many of the Vaiyai poems refer to the river as the Pāṇṭiyaṉ’s river. 5 Pari. does not elaborate this and only says,

  the waters of the Vaiyai that possess Tamil (Pari. 6:52–60)

  Lines 112–34

  These lines serve as an introduction to the dialogue between the hero and his lover. The commentator reads them as words spoken by the hero to his lover. The lover understands the reference to Parankunru (Tirupparankunru) as an allusion to his infidelity.

  The river flows as if to convey the message to those who did not go there [to the mountain] that ‘Parankunru, Murukan’s hill, is the place where the formless and pure breeze, which blows continuously, caresses the men who rest their heads in sleep between their lovers’ breasts’; it flows through the streets of Maturai in the early morning, revealing to the sentinels who guard the city what the one who is armed and deceives [that is, the love god] did at night. Thus, the waters of the Vaiyai that possess Tamil spread everywhere (Pari. 6:52–60)

  The hero who bathed in the Vaiyai with his concubine describes the water festivities [that accompany the advent of the river] to his mistress. And she, understanding his words—[‘their smiling lovers … people’ (lines 26–28), ‘For those united in desire’ (line 53), ‘Garbed in splendid regalia … the water fight has begun!’ (lines 67–71), and ‘that the mountain of Murukan … lover’s breasts’ (lines 122–26)]—quarrels with him who brings her gifts (Pari. 6:52–60)