It was a 'Fall of Civilisations' video on the Vijayanagara empire that led me to read the Amuktamalyada. I'll also admit that the stunning Thanjavur painting of Āndāl on the cover was a contributing factor. 😁
I read it twice - once, only reading the poem, and the second time when I read each verse while reading the notes at the back.
The vivid descriptions of Madhura and Sri Villuputtur by Sri Krishnadeva Raya transported me to an era that seemed like a fantasy but was, in fact, real in India's history. It was as if those green fields of paddy were right in front of me; as if I could smell the camphor and incense in the evening air; and as if I could hear the hymns and temple bells reverberating all around me.
Might sound like an exaggeration, but I loved the emphasis on the seemingly mundane and common things the people of the time did. It was as if they carried on with their lives with silent pride, knowing very well that poems eulogising them would leave readers in awe and longing for a world like the one they inhabited.
Reading verses that spoke of pride, ego, love, passion, honour, duty, and devotion - I couldn’t help but be moved. Above all, I was left with a deep sense of admiration for Sri Krishnadeva Raya. Writing about events that unfolded centuries ago with such authority and exquisite detail is a testament to his exceptional talents and perhaps, even divine inspiration.
It surprises me how a mere translation of this poem transformed my perspective on the world. I find myself with a greater appreciation for nature, people, life, and God.
At what point it started, I’m not sure. But it was probably when I read the chapter titled ‘The King’s Contest’
The Pandyan king of Madhura happened to overhear a wise sage utter the following words -
“Just as you should gather provisions for the rainy season
In the eight months before the monsoon,
You should prepare for night during the day,
For old age when still young,
And for the next life, right now, in this life.
While you still can, you should try your very best
To lead a righteous life!”
These words struck a deep chord within the king’s heart, as he thought to himself -
“Oh! What is this glorious empire?
What are these pleasures?
Why these emotions?
This body is nothing but a bubble about to burst.
Even Manu, the primal man who was born at the dawn of time
Was ultimately destroyed, trampled by the great God of Death!
I’ve enjoyed this life without ever considering the path to freedom,
But have I ever really lived?
Just as travellers are ferried to the far shore
Without even noticing the movements of the boat, so too
Does Time pass, quickly without our realising it.
And in this trance, life just passes us by.”
So, incredibly profound.
I remember setting the book down for five solid minutes, gazing out the window with overwhelming gratitude for having read this. For everything, really.
Reading this book has made me realise that some of humanity's most important questions haven’t really changed. They’ve assumed newer forms, sure, but at their very core, they remain the same.
When and how did it start? Why am I here? Where was I before? Who is behind all this? and most importantly, ‘Why did it all happen?’
I do love it when a book makes me contemplate like this! 😁
And then there's Goda. How much I’ve come to adore her! I remember visiting Srirangam a few years ago and thought it was very interesting how she offered God a garland already worn by her. Now, I see her in a new light, appreciating her inner turmoil, and then her calm; her love and devotion. She embodies both the earthly and the divine, serving as a beautiful reminder of her connection to the Goddess of Earth.
About Srinivas Reddy. Where do I begin? Incredible talent! His respect for the material he’s engaged with becomes very obvious right from page one.
To have enabled his readers to connect with the characters and the imagery so well, only through a translation, suggests that the degree to which he stayed true to the original is very, very high.
The notes at the end too proved very insightful.
What I also loved was his little introduction to the Telugu language and culture at the beginning. That he describes it as lying at the heart of both Northern and Southern Indian cultures, and as one that draws inspiration from the many cultures dwelling in its lands, is very endearing to read.
Another of my favourite chapters was the last one about Goda’s and Sri Ranganatha Swamy’s wedding. I could very well visualise all the Telugu rituals and found it wonderful how much they’ve remained the same even today.
Overall a wonderful, wonderful book. I hope to read it in Telugu someday.