Sangam Lit

In this episode, we perceive the tug between hearts that are apart, as portrayed in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 351, penned by Porunthil Ilankeeranaar. Set in the ‘Paalai’ or ‘Drylands landscape’, the verse highlights the beliefs of the ancients in omens about another’s homecoming. வேற்று நாட்டு உறையுள் விருப்புறப் பேணி, பெறல் அருங் கேளிர் பின் வந்து விடுப்ப, பொருள் அகப்படுத்த புகல் மலி நெஞ்சமொடு குறை வினை முடித்த நிறைவு இன் இயக்கம் அறிவுறூஉம்கொல்லோ தானே கதிர் தெற, கழல் இலை உகுத்த கால் பொரு தாழ் சினை, அழல் அகைந்தன்ன அம் குழைப் பொதும்பில், புழல் வீ இருப்பைப் புன் காட்டு அத்தம், மறுதரல் உள்ளமொடு குறுக, தோற்றிய செய் குறி ஆழி வைகல்தோறு எண்ணி, எழுது சுவர் நனைந்த அழுது வார் மழைக் கண் விலங்கு வீழ் அரிப் பனி பொலங் குழைத் தெறிப்ப, திருந்துஇழை முன்கை அணல் அசைத்து ஊன்றி, இருந்து அணை மீது, பொருந்துழிக் கிடக்கை, வருந்து தோள் பூசல் களையும் மருந்து என உள்ளுதொறு படூஉம் பல்லி, புள்ளுத் தொழுது உறைவி செவிமுதலானே? In this trip to the drylands, it’s less of the land and more of the mind, as we listen to the man say these words, at a time when he’s parted from the lady, having left in search of wealth: “Wishing fervently to travel to and stay in other countries, when I left, my precious kith and kin came behind with affection and bid farewell. The heart that left so, with much determination to obtain wealth, has now the satisfaction of finishing the task it set out to do, and returns contentedly. As the sun’s rays scorch on, loosened leaves are scattered by the wind from low-hanging branches, in the grove with tender sprouts, akin to glowing flames, blooming on the Mahua tree, with hollow-tubed flowers, in this dull scrub jungle in the drylands, through which I traverse on, with the intent of returning home. At this time, as she keeps counting the marked circles made day after day on the wall, her moistened, rain-like eyes, would fill with tears, and the shining drops that fall down would splash on her golden earrings. As she sits there, resting her chin on her forearms, with well-etched ornaments, leaning on the pillow upon the bed, will that lizard that keeps clicking proclaim in the ears of that maiden at home, who prays for bird omens, that the cure to remove the affliction of pining from her worrying arms, was on the way?” Let’s listen to the intentions and hopes of these parted lovers! The man starts by recollecting how he had left with much determination to seek wealth and the way his relatives had bid him luck. That goal had been achieved and he’s now returning home, with much satisfaction, the man mentions, and talks about how he’s walking through the harsh drylands, where dry leaves are being pulled and thrown by the hot winds, and where sprouts on the Mahua tree appear like flames. From his own state, the man then accesses the state of his beloved with his mind’s eye and he sees her sitting, looking at the wall on which markings have been made day after day ever since the day he left. The lady’s eyes start brimming over with tears and these tears fall down and scatter upon her huge earrings, the man visualises. Then he wonders if the lizard on the wall would tell the lady, fervently hoping for some good omen, the delightful news that the cure for her disease was coming towards her with much speed! At a time when our phones keep chirping incessantly like that lizard on the wall, and we can dash off a message, talk to or even see someone on a screen, no matter how far apart they are, it’s hard to relate to this feeling of missing another, having no way to reach them. We can see how that sense of being apart and yearning to be back was so much stronger and deeper in those times without all the technology of today. It’s true that parting these days do not have the pain and pining the people from the Sangam era experienced, but at the same time, we have to acknowledge that the reunions in that past would have been much sweeter and deeper. If only humans can somehow learn the art of keeping their emotions and values intact, no matter the technology that overpowers, then there will be redemption!

In this episode, we perceive words of welcome, infused with a hidden message, as depicted in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 350, penned by Chenthan Kannanaar. The verse is situated amidst the crashing waves of the ‘Neythal’ or ‘Coastal Landscape’ and etches a scene depicting an ancient occupation in the seas. கழியே, சிறு குரல் நெய்தலொடு காவி கூம்ப, எறி திரை ஓதம் தரல் ஆனாதே துறையே, மருங்கின் போகிய மாக் கவை மருப்பின் இருஞ் சேற்று ஈர் அளை அலவன் நீப்ப, வழங்குநர் இன்மையின் பாடு ஆன்றன்றே; கொடு நுகம் நுழைந்த கணைக் கால் அத்திரி வடி மணி நெடுந் தேர் பூண ஏவாது, ஏந்து எழில் மழைக் கண் இவள் குறையாகச் சேந்தனை சென்மோ பெரு நீர்ச் சேர்ப்ப! இலங்கு இரும் பரப்பின் எறி சுறா நீக்கி, வலம்புரி மூழ்கிய வான் திமிற் பரதவர் ஒலி தலைப் பணிலம் ஆர்ப்ப, கல்லென, கலி கெழு கொற்கை எதிர்கொள, இழிதரும் குவவு மணல் நெடுங் கோட்டு ஆங்கண், உவக்காண் தோன்றும் எம் சிறு நல் ஊரே! In this trip to the shore, we get to see both the peaceful as well as festive sides of this domain, as we listen to the confidante say these words to the man, when he prepares to leave to his home, after a tryst by day with the lady: “In the backwaters, the short-stalked blue lotus and the red lotus have closed their buds; The crashing waves of the sea that flood the shore cease not; In spaces nearby, a crab with a long, branching antenna, peeps out of its moist hole in the dark mud, and as no one passes by, silence fills the air. At this time, without bidding that the thick-legged mule, be tied to the curving yoke of your tall chariot, decorated with well-etched bells, for the sake of this maiden, having uplifted, beautiful, rain-like eyes, why don’t you stay back and then leave, O lord of the great seas? In the vast spread of the ocean, avoiding the attack of sharks, fishermen with wide boats, dive deep in search of right-whorled conch shells, and as they step out onto the heaped sands of the long shore, they are welcomed with the blow of conches echoing loud and clear, with much uproar, by the boisterous people from Korkai. Look well, right there, is our fine, little hamlet!” Time to dive into the pristine sea of the past! The confidante starts by describing the surroundings at that time of the day, and mentions how both the blue and red lotus have closed their buds, telling us it’s the evening hour. While those flowers may have shut shop, the waves never call it a day and continue to keep crashing on the shore. There’s a quick shot of a crab peeping out of the mud hole. Other than this little denizen, there’s no one about and a thick silence fills the air, the confidante sketches. She turns to the man and tells him pointedly not to ask his helper to tie his mule to the chariot and leave as usual to his town, at that time of the day. Instead of that, she asks the man to stay the night and then leave. Pointing at some distance, she talks about how fishermen in huge boats, take a deep dive, and expertly avoiding the sharks, they collect the right-whorled conches from the seabed. When they emerge with these shells and step out on the sands with their bounty, the waiting people of Korkai render a rousing welcome to them, the confidante sketches. She concludes by saying that very close to that landing spot on the sands was their village and that the man should spend the night there and then leave! One may think the confidante is extending a sweet welcome to the man, but that’s not all. The confidante knows that it was not custom for the man to stay at the lady’s house, before they are man and wife, and so, she means to nudge the man to give up his temporary trysting and choose the path of permanent happiness. Let’s focus on that scene of diving in the seas to gather conch shells. Those divers did not stop with collecting conch shells and were renowned to collect such exquisite pearls from this region, and that’s why you have people from Korkai, waiting on the shores to welcome these divers. Whatever those divers brought from the seabed would then be polished and parcelled to destinations, as far as Rome and Greece. In fact, there are many historical accounts that say those pearls from the seas around Korkai was much favoured by Queen Cleopatra. No doubt the effort of those pearl divers translates as gold and silver to the waiting people from the port of Korkai, and that’s why those divers are given that jubilant welcome, mentioned in these lines. At the same time, the confidante conjures this scene as a metaphor promising the welcome that the man would receive at the lady’s home if he were to seek her hand in marriage. A verse which turns out to be an ode to the art of welcoming, and as the third and final act, it ends up welcoming us, the people of the future, into the lives and homes of those ancients, who have left their footprints on the shore of time!

In this episode, we observe the bewilderment of a person at another’s course of action, as depicted in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 349, penned by Maamoolanaar. Set in the ‘Paalai’ or ‘Drylands landscape’, the verse etches the victory and generosity of a Sangam-era king. அரம் போழ் அவ் வளை செறிந்த முன்கை வரைந்து தாம் பிணித்த தொல் கவின் தொலைய, எவன் ஆய்ந்தனர்கொல் தோழி! ஞெமன்ன் தெரி கோல் அன்ன செயிர் தீர் செம் மொழி, உலைந்த ஒக்கல் பாடுநர் செலினே, உரன் மலி உள்ளமொடு முனை பாழாக, அருங் குறும்பு எறிந்த பெருங் கல வெறுக்கை சூழாது சுரக்கும் நன்னன் நல் நாட்டு, எழிற் குன்றத்துக் கவாஅன், கேழ் கொள, திருந்து அரை நிவந்த கருங் கால் வேங்கை எரி மருள் கவளம் மாந்தி, களிறு தன் வரி நுதல் வைத்த வலி தேம்பு தடக் கை கல் ஊர் பாம்பின் தோன்றும் சொல் பெயர் தேஎத்த சுரன் இறந்தோரே? In this trip to the drylands, we get to see the usual sights and visit a king’s court, as we listen to the lady say these words to her confidante, when the man had parted away from her and gone in search of wealth: “Leaving me to lose the old beauty of these forearms, decked with beautiful bangles, cut with a saw, which he had claimed in marriage and held close, what has he found that’s so precious, my friend? Nannan renders flawless, fine words with justness, akin to the mid pointer of a weighing balance, and when seeing singers and their fatigued clan, he would render without any hesitation, great vessels and wealth that he had captured from the formidable forts of his foes, after ruining them in the battlefield with much determination. In Nannan fine country, where soars the Ezhil mountain peak, blooms a bright-hued, dark-stemmed Kino tree, with an etched and soaring trunk. Feeding on its flame-like flowers, a male elephant places its tired, curving trunk on its striped forehead, which appears akin to a snake crawling on a boulder. Why has he gone, crossing many such countries, where languages differ, and parted away to those drylands?” Time to ponder on the lady’s words! She starts by asking a question to her friend about the man, wondering what is that thing he has found to be so important for him to leave her and make her lose the beauty of those arms the man had linked together in marriage. Then she goes on to talk about King Nannan and his just nature, bringing the pointer of a weighing scale to symbolise his qualities, and mentions how he would render all the wealth he had gained in the battlefields to singers and their clan, without any thought of keeping it for himself. We learn that Nannan has been called to mention his country of Ezhil mountains, and the lady taking us to this land, points to a particular Kino tree growing there, whose flowers a tired elephant preys upon, having nothing to eat, and places its trunk on its head, making it appear like a snake crawling up a hill. After that description, the lady connects saying it’s crossing many such countries, where different languages are spoken, the man has gone to the drylands, leaving her! In essence, the lady’s wonder is, ‘What is that which he deems so precious than my health and beauty?’. When in courtship, no doubt the man had been pursuing the lady with such devotion, but once he was married, he was off to his new pursuit, and that’s why the comparison is so stark in the lady’s mind. Pondering on a beloved’s choices seem to be a custom, then and now, here and everywhere!

In this episode, we perceive a subtle message of persuasion, as portrayed in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 348, penned by Madurai Ilam Paalaasiriyan Chenthan Koothanaar. The verse is situated amidst the flourishing millet fields of the ‘Kurinji’ or ‘Mountain Landscape’ and details the ingredients and recipe of an ancient fermented beverage. என் ஆவதுகொல் தானே முன்றில், தேன் தேர் சுவைய, திரள் அரை மாஅத்து, கோடைக்கு ஊழ்த்த, கமழ் நறுந் தீம் கனி, பயிர்ப்புறப் பலவின் எதிர்ச் சுளை அளைஇ, இறாலொடு கலந்த, வண்டு மூசு அரியல் நெடுங் கண் ஆடு அமைப் பழுநி, கடுந் திறல் பாப்புக் கடுப்பு அன்ன தோப்பி வான் கோட்டுக் கடவுள் ஓங்கு வரைக்கு ஓக்கி, குறவர், முறித் தழை மகளிர் மடுப்ப, மாந்தி, அடுக்கல் ஏனல் இரும் புனம் மறந்துழி, ‘யானை வவ்வின தினை’ என, நோனாது, இளையரும் முதியரும் கிளையுடன் குழீஇ, சிலை ஆய்ந்து திரிதரும் நாடன் நிலையா நல் மொழி தேறிய நெஞ்சே? In this short trip to the hills, we get to witness a unique culinary custom, as we listen to the lady say these words to her confidante, pretending not to notice the man listening nearby but making sure he’s in earshot: “Taking the fragrant, sweet fruit, which has ripened in summer, with a honey-like taste, growing on the thick-trunked mango tree in their front yard, and mashing it with the sticky slices of the jackfruit, adding some honeycomb, they prepare a bee-buzzing nectar, pour it into the hollowed-out stems of tall and swaying bamboos and store it for long. That well-aged, sharp toddy turns out with a sharpness, akin to the bite of a snake. After offering a portion of that drink to the god, who resides in the soaring, sky-high peaks, mountain maiden, wearing garments of tender sprouts and leaves, offer to their men, who drink it up, and forget all about guarding their millet fields in the mountain ranges. Then, realising that elephants have raided those millets, unable to accept that, the young and old group together, and then, selecting their bows and weapons, set out and rove around in the country of the lord. What will happen now to that heart of mine, which had trusted in his wavering words?” Time to explore the highs and lows of this terrain! The lady starts by describing the man’s mountain country, and to do that, she first zooms on to a mango fruit in the summer, growing on a tree in the front yard of a home. This mango fruit is said to have the sweetness of honey. We see a hand choosing and plucking this mango fruit. Next, some sticky slices of the jackfruit are taken, and both these fruits are mashed well, with a dash of honeycomb too. Beating this mixture well, next they pour the liquid into the hollowed-out bamboo stems, swaying in the wind. Apparently, they leave this bee-buzzing mixture for a while, and then, when they take out the aged, fermented toddy, it has the sharpness of a snake bite, the lady details. Next she talks about how the womenfolk first offer this well-aged toddy to the god in the mountains and then to their men. Those men happily slurp their fruit wine, and lie there, completely sloshed. Consequently, they forget their task of tending to the millet fields, and as can be expected, elephants come to enjoy their bit of delicacy. Hearing about the raid, the men can tolerate no more, and the young and old prepare to go hunt down the elephant, in the man’s country, the lady connects. She concludes by wondering what is going to happen to her, because she had trusted in the man’s words, which did not seem to stand steady and render permanent happiness! While that long description of a toddy preparation and millet fields may seem like a mere description of place, within lies a sharp and biting metaphor for how the man too had become drunk with the pleasures of trysting with the lady, and had forgotten to protect her from the gossiping mouths, spreading slander in town, and causing her health and beauty to fade. When the man hears that, he will understand the angst in the lady’s situation and take steps to claim her hand. In this usual theme of ‘Marry me, marry me’, I was intrigued to learn about this specific way of preparing what seems like a fermented fruit wine, and when searching about the same, I came across this research abstract published in 2025, named ‘Investigation of wine fermentation from dual mango (Mangifera indica) and jackfruit (Artocarpus heterophyllus) mash‘, by a scholar from an University in Vietnam, exploring this very same dual fruit fermentation, mentioned in this Tamil poem from more than two thousand years ago. Made me smile to see how these random connections seem to turn up from nowhere, without any constraints of space and time, echoing again and again the core of our oneness! Reference: Nguyen PM. Investigation of wine fermentation from dual mango (Mangifera indica) and jackfruit (Artocarpus heterophyllus) mash. Plant Sci. Today [Internet]. 2025 Nov. 21 [cited 2026 Aug. 28];12(4). Available from: https://horizonepublishing.com/journals/index.php/PST/article/view/8751

In this episode, we listen to the angst-ridden words of a maiden, as portrayed in Sangam Literary work, Aganaanooru 347, penned by Maamoolanaar. Set in the ‘Paalai’ or ‘Drylands landscape’, the verse interleaves the victory of a Chera King amidst the melancholy of pining. தோளும் தொல் கவின் தொலைய, நாளும் நலம் கவர் பசலை நல்கின்று நலிய, சால் பெருந் தானைச் சேரலாதன் மால் கடல் ஓட்டி, கடம்பு அறுத்து இயற்றிய பண் அமை முரசின் கண் அதிர்ந்தன்ன, கவ்வை தூற்றும் வெவ் வாய்ச் சேரி அம்பல் மூதூர் அலர் நமக்கு ஒழிய, சென்றனர்ஆயினும், செய்வினை அவர்க்கே வாய்க்கதில் வாழி, தோழி! வாயாது, மழை கரந்து ஒளித்த கழை திரங்கு அடுக்கத்து, ஒண் கேழ் வயப் புலி பாய்ந்தென, குவவு அடி வெண் கோட்டு யானை முழக்கு இசை வெரீஇ, கன்று ஒழித்து ஓடிய புன் தலை மடப் பிடி கை தலை வைத்த மையல் விதுப்பொடு, கெடு மகப் பெண்டிரின் தேரும் நெடு மர மருங்கின் மலை இறந்தோரே! In this trip to this challenging domain, in addition to the usual scenes, we take a short historic detour, as we listen to the lady say these words to her confidante, when the man had parted away from her, intending to seek wealth: “As my arms lose their old beauty, and day after day, the pallor of pining, intent on stealing away my health, torments me without any grace, leaving me with the shame of slander in this uproarious old town, owing to the gossip of hot mouths in the neighbourhood, resounding akin to the vibrating eyes of the well-crafted drum, made by felling the burflower tree of enemies, who were chased into the huge seas, by that Chera King, the leader of an esteemed, huge army, he has left! Long may he live, my friend! Though he has left me so, may he succeed in that mission he intends to accomplish by leaving away to those mountains, which rain clouds have hid away from, filled with dried-up bamboos, wherein as a radiant-hued, strong tiger pounces on it, the thick-footed, white tusked elephant trumpets aloud, and hearing that, frightened, its soft-headed, naive mate, runs away, forgetting its calf, and then, akin to a woman, who has lost her children, hurrying in a confused panic, with her hands on her head, it searches anxiously in those spaces with soaring trees!” Let’s explore those barren spaces and search for the moisture within! The lady starts by pointing to her current state of her arms thinning away and pallor attacking her ceaselessly. Then from the physical torture, she moves to the mental domain, and mentions how she’s afflicted by a sense of shame, owing to the slander spreading in their ancient town, thanks to the gossiping mouths of the townsfolk. That slander is spreading so thickly tells us the parting between the man and lady has happened prior to their marriage. Returning, the lady sketches the manner in which slander is thundering in their town, by placing it in parallel to a resonating, victorious war drum, made from a burflower tree. Apparently, this burflower tree was a protected, sacred tree of a Chera King’s enemies, whom the king drove away, chased them even in the seas and after a fierce battle, felled the said tree and made his victory drum. That historic nugget slipped in talks about the exploits of the Chera King, who was known by the name ‘Imayavaramban Cheralathan’, a southern king, who is said to have planted his flag up north in the Himalayas. Back from the history lesson, we find the lady has mentioned those elements of physical and mental angst, only to say that was all because the man had left her and gone to the drylands. She goes on to describe the space as a drying mountain region, which the rain clouds have forsaken, and filled with browning bamboo trees and a place where a female elephant, frightened by the roar of its mate, when attacked by a tiger, had run away, leaving its calf, and then comes back in much panic, searching for the little one, exactly like how, a woman who has lost her child, would run around in panic, hands on her head. The lady concludes by saying even though the man had left her in such a state and gone so far away, she wishes that he succeeds in his endeavours! Yet again, it’s a ‘though he left me in pain, may he attain all he seeks’ message, which is wrapped in the layers of history and nature, standing as picture-perfect parallels for the human condition!