THE CONSORT

A wide-awake Balarama directed the Aayapaadi girls into a secret chamber that looked like an extremely spacious, well-lit passageway. At the far end of the passage was a door. 

“You will find Krishna here,” said Balarama, and left. 

Kothai and the Pengal stood at the entrance, dazed and confounded. There was something very sacred, something very pristine about the atmosphere in that chamber; a certain peace and joy they had never experienced before. It was as if they were violating that calm by their very presence, as if they had no right to be there.

But they also knew that they could not turn back now. So they moved forward with the same determination they had had when they had set out from Aayapadi a few hours ago. Was it only a few hours ago that they had set out? It was difficult to believe, for, so much had happened since early dawn, so much transformation.

Hard to believe it is, O my Krishna, 

For such was the path

You made us walk upon, step after step

Of divine graciousness.

Destined we were to tread that path,

Come all the way, wherefrom there is no going back.

And why would we now, O my Krishna

When we know that just beyond that door yonder

Is Your sanctum sanctorum 

Where, waiting You will be for us

With open arms!

This thought took Kothai forward. Her Thozhis followed her. The girls were still chanting His Name for every step they took, but it was in the silence of their hearts they pronounced His Name. Their handwoven sarees seemed to have voluntarily diminished their brightness to merge with the calm. They swished no more, the jimikis danced no more, and their anklets dared not to squeal, so overpowering were the divine vibrations.

Reached we have, my Thozhis,

The door that separates us from our Krishna,

A simple door this, with no paraphernalia

Except for this elephant-headed brass knocker.

Could this be the head of Kuvalayapida,

The elephantine ego that He subdued?

O my Thozhis, tell me please…

Shall we use this knocker to let Him know

Of our waiting here, outside His chambers,

So He would let us into His presence?

Or, shall we just burst into the song

We have been practising to sing before Him,

So to awaken Him?

He would know the song, of course, the Maayan that He is,

I know would have been hiding behind bushes 

To listen to our practising.

But the Paavai pengal had no answer to give to Kothai. They were all dumbstruck.

O Krishna, what play is this? 

Why are You not at Your door, waiting?

Is this indeed the door to Your sanctum?

It has to be, for Balarama is not You to play tricks 

Upon naive village girls.

Are you in there, O Krishna

Or is there someone else we must pray to?

Confused, Kothai invoked the Guru Tattwa. The ever-empathetic Nandagopan came to her aid. 

“My daughter-in-law, Nappinai, is inside with my Son. Call out to her, wake her up. She will take you to Him.”

So Kothai sang thus:

 

O Nappinai, Mahalakshmi, you whom our Lord Narayana

Keeps close to His Heart,

Wake up please!

You whom our Krishna won over 

By overpowering seven bulls,

Wake up please!

You who are the moon to the solar effulgence 

Of our Lord Parthasarathy,

Wake up please!

You who are Prakriti to the One and only Purusha,

Wake up please!

O Nappinai, in waking you, 

I wake up the prakriti in me,

Forgotten have we humans that we too

Are creatures of the earth.

Wake up we must 

The rooster in us, and believe like the crowned bird

That everyday brings a new dawn of hope.

Wake up we must 

The koel’s song upon our lips that fills depressed hearts

Not with hurt but with melodies enriching.

Wake up we must 

The freedom of a bird that chirps with exhilaration,

And with wings spread out, soars skyward with abandon.

Wake up we must 

The might of an elephant so that we run away not

From life’s battles but face them instead

With the strength of wisdom. 

Wake up we must 

The joy of giving 

Like the perennial maadhavi flower,

Our fragrance unasked, unbiased.

O Nappinai, the world is a fecund ball in your hands

For you to play with,

And in waking you, I awaken nature within me —

The stability of earth,

The flow of water,

The spirit of fire,

The potency of sound,

The generosity of space.

Wake up, O Nappinai, 

We pray to you to rise from your repose,

Take dainty steps towards the door

And with your hands so soft and red like the lotus,

Open the doors for us to the jingle of the bangles

You wear on your wrists.

Nappinai, who was lying beside her Lord Narayana, did not want to leave His side even for a second. She told the girls that the door was not bolted and that they could come in.

Kothai and her Thozhis looked at each other. Their moment had come, the moment of reward for their diligent efforts. There was now but just one door that separated them from their Krishna, and all they had to do was to open that door and walk in, and lo! their Ranga would be waiting for them, His eyes glued to the door, as eager to see them as they were longing to see Him.

Pushing the door open noiselessly, the girls walked into the room in all reverence. There they were at last, in the sanctum sanctorum of their beloved Lord Narayana. The room was lit with soft lamps that cast a welcoming golden glow all over, surprisingly with no shadows. 

Nappinai, an epitome of beauty and grace, was lain upon the divine cushiony bed, from where she smiled at Kothai and the girls, her collyrium-lined eyes joining her red lips in the greeting. Her long, thick tresses that cascaded from the bed to the floor were neatly plaited and studded with pearl ornaments and jasmine, the flowers rendering an aura of pleasantly mesmerising fragrance that hung heavily in the air, giving Kothai and her pengal a heady feeling.

And, as if dazed by the perfume, and probably the ravishing charm of Nappinai, lay Madhusudhana next to His Mahalakshmi, His eyes closed, unaware of the arrival of Kothai and her Thozhis.

Photographs courtesy: Shankar Ramakrishnan
For more such photos, please check Facebook Page: VISHNUMAYAM
Please note: This is NOT a translation of the divine verses sung by the revered poet-saint Andal. I have not the qualifications for that undertaking, my greatest limitation being my inability to read and write Tamil. Nor can I claim to be as devoted and as passionate as Andal was to Her Rangamannar. But I do love Krishna in my own way and these verses are just my attempt at writing a poem a day, as Kothai did over the thirty days of Margazhi, centuries ago. The muse for each of these thirty verses are the thirty songs that form the thirty paasurams of Thiruppavai. As I can't read or write Tamil, I have had to look up the Internet for translations and transliterations of Thiruppavai. I have provided the links below. Also for the same reason is why my poetry is in English. 
I offer this humble work at the Lotus Feet of my Lord Parthasarathy, my Krishna, my Flautist of Brindaranyam.
Click here for Thiruppavai series 2020, Day 17 of Margazhi: 01 January 2021THE MANTRA

 

www.facebook.com