The time to pause and look within

 

Living in the warmer south of the country, I always have looked forward to these two months of December and January which people here refer to as 'cold' months. They wear woollen caps or mufflers and drape shawls over the shoulders most of the mornings and late evenings. 

I love the nip in the air and the sharp wind that tickles the tip of the nose and the cheek bones. The sunlight feels wonderful. And music flows in the air, engulfing me in the perfect symphony! 

Yes, it is the time for slowly losing myself, edges blurred, in the rhythm of life all around me. My memory associates the early morning ritual of designing different 'kolams' at the entrance of the house, the 'Dhanur masa pooja in the temples and yes the 'pongal' with cashews and the biting and hot pepper during the cool mornings with this time, particularly the month of 'Markazhi' (மார்கழி) in Tamil. The time between 16th of December to 13th of January in the Indian tradition is referred to as the ninth month,  (Agrahāyaṇa ) or मार्गशीर्ष - Mārgaśirṣa.

The house I grew up in had a broad pavement made of cement slabs and my neighbour and close friend had the same kind of space to display her designs. So there began a subtle competition  - in different layers about different aspects like who was the first to fill the entrance with a kolam, the size and the type of kolam.

The competition still goes on and now manifests itself in complex layers. Age and experience have added nuances to it and technology aids us efficiently. More than anything, there is an effortless sharing and adapting between us. My friend's designs influence the wonderful women in her other group to put together a bouquet of words in beautiful verses in Thamizh. The creation of kolam is no more a mere dots and lines but manifestation of deep reflection and meditation on our part.

My reflection took me to the origin of the observation of this 'vrath' or 'நோன்பு ' (like taking a vow or keeping a fast) during Markazhi. Andal, the Bhakthi saint who was devoted to God Vishnu, is said to have observed this Vrath called 'Paavai nonbu. Paavai in Thamizh means a doll or an image. All through the month of Markazhi, young girls would wake up before sunrise (Brahma Muhurat) ,go to nearby rivers/tanks and take bath. This is the last quarter of night; time of Brahman, which starts around 4.24 am local time and goes up to 5.30 am . It is considered an auspicious time for practices of yoga and most suitable for meditation or worship. It can translate as 'Creator's time'. In some other parts of the country, during the same time, Kathyayani Vrat is observed by young girls. This Vrat has been mentioned in Bhagavatha Purana, Devi Mahahmiyam, Skanda Purana and Taitiriya Aranyaka. 

And how would the young girls observe their 'nonbu? They would create an image of goddess from the clayey soil and pray to get good husbands.(Since the dawn of urbanisation and civilisation, patriarchy is well entrenched in human life.) But then, the 'vrath' was meant for the well being of all as well. 

Andal had taken this to a new height when she prayed to be united with Vishnu Himself. Immersed in that sense of devotion (Bhakthi), she saw herself as one of the Gopi and her community as the Yadava community (shepherd) of Gokulam. The thirty verses known as 'Thiruppaavai' - one verse each for every day of this holy month - bring out the Bhakthi of Andal to the exclusion of all material things. 

What strikes me immediately is the simple but sweet pattern in which the words flow into beautiful lyrics. Her love for the Lord and care for all the living beings shine through her verses. She adds the many stories about Krishna, Rama or Narasimha and there is a lively banter when the friends and Andal from outside wake up the sleeping friend inside the house. Sometimes, it is an affectionate and gentle call like "Hey,  Little parrot!( எல்லே, இளங்கிளியே !); at other times, it is a teasing way to bring the person inside like wondering whether Kumbakarna (Ravana's brother, known for his months long sleeping), had given away his sleep to the friend inside the house after his defeat. 

"...…..                                   பண்டொருநாள் 

கூற்றத்தின் வாய் வீழ்ந்த கும்பகர்ணனும்

தோற்றும் உனக்கே பெருந்துயில் தான் தந்தானோ!"

 

Shiva and Markazhi nonbu:

Shaivites have their own system of prayers, Vrath and dip in the pond/river. The verses were composed by a Shaivite Bhakthi saint, Manicka vasakar. He places himself in the position of a 'Nayika' (heroine, woman in love for Lord Shiva) and calls out other young girls to bathe in the river/tank and sing in praise of Shiva. The 20 verses are collectively known as "Thiruvempavai' (திருவெம்பாவை) and along with a set of 10 verses referred to as 'Thirupalliezhuchi' (திருப்பள்ளியெழுச்சி) are chanted in Shiva temples and Shaivites at home in Tamil Nadu. 

Each verse soaked in Bhakti touches me deep within my core and I see the God as the endless column of fire (as in Tiruvannamalai). All compositions (besides Thiruvempavai)  of the Prime minister (of Pandiya king) turned Bhakti saint are literary gems. 

Unbroken chain of tradition but adapted to the changing time and the needs of the people:

It is a strange mixed feeling of humility and pride that fills every pore of myself when I get up in the morning to create a kolam or sing the Bhakti-filled verses. There is no barriers/boundaries here. The purists of Thamizh culture can bask in the antiquity of the custom and the race with puffed up chests. The dreamy poets and lovers of the language can feel the cool morning breeze, inhale the scents of those morning flowers and smells and listen to the calls of different birds like king crow, drongo and the musical laughter of the young girls splashing in the water. The devotees and religious people can find comfort in the recurring actions and rituals year after year. I love all the dimensions of the tradition.

I love the language and the beautiful verses and I love to sing them as well. The cool days with the lazy warm caressing sunlight, the bite in the air which tickles the tip of the nose and cheeks, the distant chiming of temple bells and the strains of devotional songs including Thiruppaavai and Thiruvempavai moving along the wind - all infuse me with energy.

This time, the online music concerts brought another setting to experience music. The old curtains were peeled off and new scenes rolled past adding layers to my experience.                                                                                                                              

Markazhi is always a meditative time and this year, new ways, no, different ways of doing the same things felt like plucking a ripe mango straight from the tree and eating it with the juice trickling down my hand and then to the ground under the mango tree. I can hear the tree speaking through the rustle of the leaves and the mouth-watering smell of ripening mango sharing a joke with me; the squirrel with the tail lifted up, the parrots, Myna and some other small birds gathering around to listen to the story of the mango tree. 

I see people distinctly, relate and connect with their thoughts a shade more easily than before. I am beginning to understand the irritations, nagging or the incessant chatter of'our own--'namma-chennai-auto drivers' ! There is so much to appreciate, enjoy and experience in this fine web of connections.  I see each and every being around me - tiny and large - with more clarity, sparkling after the abundant rain. Each moment emerges in a slow rhythm from within to blend seamlessly with the space outside.

s