Religions of India in Practice

The poet and saint Māṇikkavācakar, who lived in south India (most likely in the ninth century C.E.) composed two poetic works, Tirukkōvaiyār (“Glorious Garland of Verses”; tiru is equivalent to śrī, “glorious,” in Sanskrit) and Tiruvācakam (“Glorious Composition”), both of which are included in the Tirumuṟai, the canon of Tamil Śaivism. To this day verses from Māṇikkavācakar’s works are chanted in Śiva temples in Tamilnadu during pūjā, and they are often set to music and sung at gatherings in temples and in people’s homes. Tirukkōvaiyār is a work obviously intended for an audience with specialized literary training, and draws liberally on the conventions of classical Tamil love poetry. In the Śaiva Siddhānta sectarian tradition this poem is frequently interpreted as an allegory of love between the life-breath or soul (uyir) and god (civam). The fifty-one poems included in Tiruvācakam (from which selections appear here) are, in contrast, far more accessible and far better known by Tamil Śaivites, and they are highly valued for their “heart-melting” emotional power.

Many of the poems included in Tiruvācakam are narrated by a first-person voice that Tamil Śaivites hear as the voice of the historical poet. Thus for Tamil Śaivites the subject of Tiruvācakam is the joys and sorrows Māṇikkavācakar experienced in his quest to establish a lasting union with Śiva. However, several poems included in Tiruvācakam break the pattern. Among these poems are several that are narrated by a collective female voice. According to legend, during the course of his pilgrimage to various sacred sites located in the Tamil country, Māṇikkavācakar encountered groups of girls engaged in playing various games and in other activities appropriate to their age and gender, such as pounding scented bath powder and picking flowers. It is said that the songs these girls sang while they played inspired Māṇikkavācakar to compose devotional poems that appropriate certain characteristic features of game songs.

Selected stanzas from several of Māṇikkavācakar’s devotional “game songs” included in Tiruvācakam are translated here. The refrain in the stanzas of Tiruvammāṉai (Selections 1-3) allude to songs associated with a game in which players throw small objects such as pebbles, cowrie shells, or dried beans into the air and catch them on the back of their hands. In Tiruccāḻal (4-11) we hear two voices, one that disparages Śiva and another that defends him. Commentators have identified two, not necessarily mutually exclusive, sources of inspiration for the poem’s format. Some commentators have proposed that a debating game, in which the players express their arguments in song, is the model for Tiruccāḻal The poem has also been read as an allusion to an event in Māṇikkavācakar’s legendary biography. The saint, we are told, debated Buddhist monks from Sri Lanka and scored a decisive victory for the Śaiva cause. The refrain of Tiruppūvalli (“Song of the Flowering Creeper”; 12-16) refers to the act of picking flowers, and in the context of this poem the association with flowers offered in worship is self-evident. Most commentators on Tiruvācakam accept the premise that the stanzas of Tiruvuntiyār (17-23) are modeled after a type of game song, but they are less certain about how this game would have been played. The word para (fly) that occurs in the refrain implies that it involves some kind of airborne object such as a shuttlecock. Commentators are equally uncertain about the nature of the game alluded to in Tiruttōṇōkkam (24-27); the title literally means “gazing [or aiming] at the shoulders.” The stanzas of Tiruppoṉṉūcal (song of the golden swing; 28–32) clearly invoke songs that girls would sing while riding a swing.

Although the poems translated here are atypical of most Tamil bhakti poetry by virtue of their formal association with game songs, the religious themes and sentiments they express provide a profile of the ethos of Tamil Śaiva bhakti which, if not comprehensive, is in harmony with a core of central themes in the literature of Tamil Śaivism. For example, there is the notion that Śiva enters into a relationship of great intimacy with his devotees even though he is remote and unattainable for everyone else, even for the gods in heaven (1, 2, 16, 29). Śiva is frequently called Lord of the Vedas. A number of possible interpretations of this epithet come to mind—Śiva is the ultimate source of the Vedas; Śiva embodies the essence of the Vedas; Śiva, as divine teacher, instructs the world in the meaning of the Vedas (1, 2, 5, 32). Śiva is considered the source or the essence of the entire cosmos and of all living things (1, 3, 4, 25); Śiva and his devotee relate to one another as master and servant or as ruler and subject, and sometimes Śiva is said to enslave his devotee (12, 13, 14, 27, 31, 32). Śiva is said to eradicate his devotee’s karma and thus save his devotee from rebirth (12, 20, 21, 23, 30, 31, 32).

In addition to these theological themes, there are several others for which no pattern of replication can be found in this limited sample, but which nonetheless may be numbered among the central themes of Tamil Śaiva bhakti poetry. Paradox is at the heart of Śiva’s identity (2); there is a communal bond among Śiva’s devotees (13); and the devotee’s bodily drives (especially the sexual appetite) are obstacles that can be overcome only by surrendering oneself to Śiva (15). Similarly, the devotee can overcome the obstacle of egoism only through total surrender (27).

A common iconographic representation of Śiva is Ardhanarīśvara (“Lord who is Half Woman”). The right side of this image of Śiva is male and the left side is female, both in bodily contours and in ornamentation. This image underscores the belief that Śiva and his consort are ultimately one, and that the god’s identity encompasses the duality of gender (1, 3, 30, 31). As Lord of Destruction, Śiva is associated with the cremation ground and is frequently depicted covered with ash; worshipers at temples of Śiva typically receive a pinch of ash as a tangible gift of grace from the god (2, 4, 6). Śiva is often depicted wearing a snake around his waist or in his hair. According to Śaiva mythology, a group of forest sages became furious with Śiva when the god disrupted their sacrificial rites with his dancing. They conjured a deadly snake in the sacrificial fire and turned it against the god, but Śiva effortlessly subdued the snake and wrapped it around his waist. When the sages then conjured a tiger in the fire, the god killed it and wore its skin as a garment (4, 6, 9, 11, 16). As Kāpālī (“One with a Skull”), Śiva wanders from place to place holding a skull in his hand. On one level, this image of the god underscores his importance as the prototype for ascetics, the skull serving Śiva as his begging bowl (9, 15). (The Sanskrit word kapāla, from which the name Kāpālī is derived, can denote both “skull” and “a mendicant’s begging bowl.”) The image also alludes to a myth: Śiva and the five-headed god Brahmā became embroiled in an argument. When one of Brahmā’s heads hurled a particularly galling insult at Śiva, Śiva cut off the offending head with a flick of his fingernail, and thus Brahmā became the four-headed god. By this act Śiva became tainted by the sin of brahmanicide, and Brahmā’s severed head stuck to Śiva’s hand, as if to mark Śiva indelibly as perpetrator of this crime. Eventually Śiva rid himself of his burden of sin at Varanasi. In another myth, Śiva swallowed the poison called halāhala which appeared when the gods and anti-gods churned the primeval ocean of milk in hope of obtaining the nectar of immortality, and thus he saved the world from calamity (7, 11, 15, 30).

When the fierce goddess Kālī killed the demon Dāruka, she worked herself into such a frenzy her destructive power became a threat to the very world she had rescued from the demon’s assault. Śiva averted this second threat to the world’s well-being by attracting the goddess’s attention and defeating her in a dance contest (10). On another occasion, Śiva came to the rescue of the gods when the residents of Tripura (Triple Fortress) were causing the gods great pain. The story begins when the anti-gods secured a boon from the creator god Brahmā as a reward for performing rigorous penance. Brahmā allowed the anti-gods to build three great cities, one in heaven, one in the air, and one on earth. Brahma also stipulated that the only way these cities could be destroyed would be for them to be somehow consolidated, and then destroyed by a single arrow. The anti-gods flourished in their cities, and in the course of time they became arrogant and began to behave in a manner offensive to justice and morality. The gods, whom they oppressed, eventually turned to Śiva for help. Drawing together the combined energies of the many gods and constructing a chariot from various elements of the cosmos, Śiva demolished the anti-gods’ cities with a single fiery arrow (15, 17).

Many of the twenty verses of Tiruvuntiyār allude to the myth of Dakṣa’s sacrifice. Dakṣa, the father of Śiva’s consort Umā, held a great Vedic sacrifice but failed to invite his daughter and son-in-law, against whom he bore a grudge. The goddess implored Śiva to punish her father for the insult, and Śiva complied with her request. He emitted the fierce Vīrabhadra from himself, and Vīrabhadra laid waste to the sacrifice and punished all the gods who were present. According to some versions of the myth, Dakṣa was beheaded and was given a goat’s head in exchange for his own (18, 19,20,21,22).

Unlike the other mythological allusions found in these verses, which can be traced to Sanskrit sources and are well known throughout India, the story of the hunter-devotee Kaṇṇappar, alluded to in Tiruttōṇōkkam 3 (Selection 24), belongs exclusively to the lore of south Indian Śaivism. Kaṇṇappar’s manner of worshiping Śiva, detailed in the verse, violates the most fundamental canons of “proper” worship. Nevertheless, he proved himself willing to forfeit even his own eyes for Śiva’s benefit, and thus he is viewed as a paragon of unselfish devotion.

Some of the names of Hindu gods that occur in these verses may be opaque to readers who are unfamiliar with the Tamil language, even if they would easily recognize the gods signified by these names. In Tamil bhakti poems Viṣṇu frequently bears the name Māl or its variant Tirumāl (7, 9, 16), which may be translated either as “Great One” or “Black One.” Ayaṉ (7, 9, 16) is a Tamil adaptation of Sanskrit Aja (“Unborn One”), an epithet of Brahmā. Purantaraṉ (19) means “destroyer of fortresses” and is an epithet of Indra.

It is well known that sacred places play a central role in Tamil bhakti; and pilgrimage to these sacred places is an important element in the legendary biographies of the Tamil bhakti poets, Māṇikkavācakar being no exception. The emphasis on sacred places in the biographies of the Tamil saints and in their poems underscores the saints’ role in the Tamilization of puranic Hinduism.

For the Tamil devotees of Viṣṇu and Śiva, these gods are the protagonists not only of myths set in remote mythological space and time, but also of stories that are played out in the Tamil country. Not only is Śiva the Lord of the Universe, in a very specific sense he is a member of the ruling dynasty of the Pāṇṭiya kingdom, a historical kingdom located in the southern part of the Tamil country (3). The verses translated here mention several places, all sites of Śiva temples, that are located in the Tamil country: Aiyāṟu (2), Āṉaikkā (3), Iṭaimarutu (28), Northern Kōcamaṅkai (28-32), Peruntuṟai (1, 3, 15), and Tillai (8, 10, 13). The last two of these are of special importance in Māṇikkavācakar’s biography. It was at Peruntuṟai that Māṇikkavācakar is said to have had his first direct encounter with Śiva and to have undergone a conversion experience. Tillai, known nowadays as Chidambaram, was the final destination in Māṇikkavācakar’s journey which took him to many places in the Tamil country, and it was there that, according to legend, he merged with the god’s image in the temple. Śiva is enshrined at Chidambaram as Naṭarāja, “lord of the dance,” and the sanctum of this temple is known as Ciṟṟampalam, the “Little Hall” (8, 10, 13). It is here that Śiva is said to perform the dance that sustains the universe.

The poems translated here are published in G. Varadarajan, ed., Tiruvācakam-Virivurai (Madras: Palaniyappa Brothers, 1971).

Let’s sing of the Lord

who dwells in the hearts of people

who keep him fixed in their thoughts

without a moment’s lapse.

He’s the remote Lord,

the hero who favors the southern town, Peruntuṟai,

the Lord of the Vedas

who keeps the goddess as half of his body,

the master who took me, a lowly dog, for his slave.

He’s the embodiment of truth, our mother,

our ruler who became all the seven worlds.

Let’s sing an ammāṉai

Tiruvammāṉai 7

Bangles jangle on our wrists,

earrings dance on our ears,

bees clamor for honey that clings to our black curls,

and we sing of the red Lord who wears white ash,

the Lord who fills every space

and yet can never be found,

Lord of the Vedas

who appears as truth for his friends

and stays remote from the loveless,

the Lord who dwells at Aiyāṟu.

Let’s sing an ammāṉai

Tiruvammāṉai 13

Let’s sing about the Lord, older than the three great gods,

who became the whole world

and will remain when the world ends,

the Lord with ornamented hair

who made his home in Peruntuṟai, the town we hold dear,

Lord of the Sky who keeps the Goddess as half of his body,

our Uncle who stays in the south at Āṉaikkā

and in the Pāṇṭiya land,

the Lord who is sweet as nectar

for people who call him Father.

Let’s sing an ammāṉai

Tiruvammāṉai 19

He smears his body with white ash,

and he wears a hissing snake.

The words he speaks are obscure like the Vedas,

See, my dear!

What he smears, what he wears, what he speaks—

what of them?

Lord Śiva is the essence of every living thing.

Cāḻalō

Tiruccāḻal I

My dear, you call him—my father, our Lord, everyone’s God

but why does he wrap a tattered rag around his loins?

The string he ties around his waist

is the essence of the arts

and that rag is the four Vedas

Don’t you see?

Cāḻalō

Tiruccāḻal 2

His temple is the cremation ground

and his best cloak is a deadly tiger’s skin,

with no mother and no father he lives all alone.

See, my dear!

He may have no mother or father and live all alone,

but if he loses his temper

the whole world will turn to dust.

Don’t you see?

Cāḻalō

Tiruccāḻal 3

My dear, if he’s so smart,

why did he swallow deadly poison

that rose from the roaring sea?

If he hadn’t swallowed poison that day

Ayaṉ, Māl, and all the gods above would have perished.

Don’t you see?

Cāḻalō

Tiruccāḻal 8

The Lord who dances facing south

at Tillai’s Little Hall

takes delight in women.

He’s a madman, my dear.

Stupid girl,

if he didn’t take delight in women,

all who live on this great earth

would aspire to the yoga of heaven

and leave this world behind.

Don’t you see?

Cāḻalō

Tiruccāḻal 9

He wears the skin of a wild tiger,

he eats from a skull, and the jungle is his home,

so who would want to be his slave, my dear?

What you say may be, but listen—

Ayaṉ, Tirumāl, and the king of all the gods in heaven

serve him generation after generation.

Cāḻalō

Tiruccāḻal 12

The Lord of the Little Hall at Tillai

where cool fields flow with honey,

this Lord performed a dance.

Why is that, my dear?

If he didn’t dance

this whole world would become a meal for Kālī

who wields a bloody spear.

Don’t you see?

Cāḻalō

Tiruccāḻal 14

If he’s so clever, why does he wear a spotted hide

and why did he drink deadly poison

as if it were precious nectar?

Tell me, my dear!

No matter what he wears, no matter what he eats,

our Lord is greater than he himself knows.

Don’t you see?

Cāḻalō

Tiruccāḻal 19

Even a mother’s love can’t compare with the mercy of the Lord

who paid attention to me though I am lower than a dog.

We’ll pick flowers for my ruler

who slashed away birth’s illusion

and threw dust in the mouth of my stubborn deeds.

Tiruppūvalli 3

My Lord gave me a head to bow before his long feet,

he gave me a mouth to sing of his glory,

and he assembled his servants so I could join them.

We’ll pick flowers and tell all about the Lord

who dances with the Goddess

at the Hall of beautiful Tillai.

Tiruppūvalli 7

I praise the Lord who showed me the way of virtue,

led me to the golden feet of his devotees

and took me for his slave.

We’ll pick flowers and tell how he made us his bondsmen

and cheated the old deeds that brought us pain.

Tiruppūvalli 8

When the master, Lord of Peruntuṟai,

placed his blessed feet on our heads

we were freed from our bodies, seat of desires.

We’ll pick flowers and sing of the Lord

who holds a skull in his hand,

who waged war on the three cities

and joyfully swallowed the poison

that rose from the murky sea.

Tiruppūvalli 10

He is praised by eminent Māl, by Ayaṉ,

by all the gods and demons

who will never know the glory of his golden feet,

yet he entered my mind and became my ruler.

We’ll pick flowers and sing of the cobras

he wears like sparkling jewels.

Tiruppūvalli 17

He drew his bow, the war began

then the three forts fell

fly unti, fly

All at once they burned to the ground

fly unti, fly

Tiruvuntiyār 1

When greedy Fire reached for food

he cut off his hand

fly unti, fly

The sacrifice turned into a rout

fly unti, fly

Tiruvuntiyār 7

Purantaraṉ became a koil bird, bright as a flower

then he fled to a tree

fly unti, fly

And yet they call him King of the Gods

fly unti, fly

Tiruvuntiyār 9

Tell how that rite raised his ire

and how he lopped off the priest’s head

fly unti, fly

That’s how the chain of births is destroyed

fly unti, fly

Tiruvuntiyār 10

When the sun came to eat he trapped him

and plucked out his eyes

fly unti, fly

That’s the way he helps us conquer rebirth

fly unti, fly

Tiruvuntiyār 12

The Goddess of Speech lost her nose,

Lord Brahmā lost his head,

and the moon’s face got smashed

fly unti, fly

That’s the way he destroys our old deeds

fly unti, fly

Tiruvuntiyār 13

He gives shelter to robed sages

and he watches over the sky

fly unti, fly

He guards the realms beyond the sky’s limit

fly unti, fly

Tiruvuntiyār 20

Play tōṇōkkam so the world may know the glory of the hunter

who cooled the Lord’s body and received his grace.

Though his feet were shod,

his mouth carried the Lord’s water

and his offering was flesh,

his worship shone as if he knew the learned books.

Tiruttōṇōkkam 3

Play tōṇōkkam and tell how

one became many:

how he became the seven worlds and the ten directions,

and how he’s wedded to the eight elements

as earth, water, fire, wind, sky, moon and sun,

and as the Lord who rules the senses.

Tiruttōṇōkkam 5

While Buddhists and followers of other trifling creeds

flounder in error,

the Lord, our father, transforms intellect into enlightenment

and deeds into penance.

We’ll play tōnōkkam and sing of his compassion.

Tiruttōṇōkkam 6

We quelled our pride and surrendered our minds,

so play tōṇōkkam, good ladies.

As servants of the Southerner, the Lord worshiped in heaven,

we’ll turn our thoughts to his long feet.

We’ll receive the joyful Dancer’s grace

and enjoy supreme bliss.

Tiruttōṇōkkam 8

Sing of Iṭaimarutu,

the abode of Northern Kōcamaṅkai’s king,

the Lord sweet as honey, with three shining eyes,

who floods us with nectar,

who clears my mind and melts my flesh.

Even ever-youthful gods in heaven

can’t see his feet, bright as flowers.

O girls beautiful as noble peacocks, graceful as swans,

Let’s ride the golden swing

Tiruppoṉṉūcal 2

Sing of the palace so tall

lightning plays around its towers

at Northern Kōcamaṅkai, town splendid as a jewel,

home of the Lord who has no beginning or end.

While councils of wise men and countless gods

stand in attendance,

he blesses me with sacred ash

and drowns me in his mercy.

O girls whose breasts are adorned with gold,

Let’s ride the golden swing

Tiruppoṉṉūcal 3

O girls wearing stacks of glittering bangles,

sing about the Lord of stainless reputation,

the compassionate Lord who frees us from birth and death.

United with the Goddess who speaks gentle words,

he enters the hearts of his servants

and bathes them in nectar.

The Lord, leader of gods, whose throat holds deadly poison,

dwells in Northern Kōcamaṇkai, the town brilliant as a jewel

with towers that touch the clouds.

Let’s ride the golden swing

Tiruppoṉṉūcal 4

O girls whose breasts are adorned with buds,

melt with love and sing about the dangling earrings

that adorn the Lord, half woman,

who wears cassia blossoms in his hair.

The Lord of Northern Kōcamaṅkai

chose me over all his other servants

to be his own slave

though I am just a lowly dog.

He sheltered me from my old sins

and freed me from rebirth.

Let’s ride the golden swing

Tinippoṉṉūcal 6

O girls beautiful as sleek, dancing peacocks

with jeweled breasts bright as gold,

When you soar high on the swing, like swans in flight,

sing about the glory of the Lord, my father,

the master who took me for his slave,

the radiant Lord of the Vedas,

Lord who dwells in Northern Kōcamaṅkai

who eludes the mind’s powers.

If we chant his praise and bow our heads in worship,

he’ll burst the chains of our sins.

Let’s ride the golden swing

Tinippoṉṉūcal 7